So apparently I lied. My last post I promised it wouldn't be months until my next post. Clearly, I lied. Here we are almost a full year from my last post and so much has happened and changed. There were happenings happening last year at this time that I was not at liberty to discuss with the public, but now, if I don't discuss everything I feel I might explode inside. I know...I know...I'm being criptic, but I swear the reasoning is coming.
The Story of You and....
It was Thanksgiving and we were not expecting you to come to us like a blessing, but then....there you were. A tiny plastic stick telling us that our lives had changed. The month of December happened like a blur. Bloodwork, ultrasounds, more bloodwork...next thing you know it was Christmas and you were 8 1/2 weeks growing and my heart was filled fuller than it has ever been. I talked to you almost daily...knowing in my very science filled head that you really didn't even have ears yet...but in my heart knowing that you could hear me. I prayed for you as a part of me and started to imagine all the things that you would one day be. I was enamoured with the thought that you had a tiny heart beating just inches below my own. It was a miraculous thought and it was the first truly miraculous thing that I have ever encountered. The first ultrasound showed you looking like a little white dot sitting atop a perfectly round ring...almost like a diamond. We could see a slight flicker, but knew you were going to grow and grow and we would see you develop. Every week we checked to see how big you were estimated to be. A poppy seed, an apple seed, a sweet pea, a blueberry, a raspberry....this gave Daddy a chance to understand how you were growing deep inside. We loved you from the very moment we knew you had come to us...but during the second ultrasound we saw your heart beating. Like a tiny steady flicker...it was the most beautiful thing we had ever seen. You were ours. We told all of your grandparents that they were indeed going to be grandparents. Our family grew and they loved you too...from the minute we announced the news. Aunts, unlcles, great aunts and uncles, grandparents, great grandparents, and others who would be apart of your life forever in some way or another. My heart was overflowing with how much we loved you. At 10 weeks, (you were now a green olive/prune) we had our visit with the doctor. We were really hoping for a doppler so we could hear that sweet sound of your heart beating, but the doctor promised us that it would be the next visit. He was pleased with how you were growing. My belly growing just enough that my pants were tight. I relished in every change my body made to accomidate you and your growing little body. I knew you were changing every day at warp speed because everyday I felt a little different. Lightheaded, dizzy, aches and pains of a growing belly and breasts that would one day provide you nutrition. It was overwhelming in a way that just made me smile without thinking. At 11 weeks and 4 days, January 15, I woke up feeling strange. My heart was beating out of my chest. I had gone to work just thinking it was just my nerves and my pregnancy anxiety. I made it through most of the day, constantly having a pressure deep down in my groin. And before I knew it, you were gone. It was so quick and our time together was not supposed to end. But I guess God had other plans for our little miracle. We cried for you. Both of us. Mommy and Daddy cried because you left and we never got to meet you or see your little face. We didn't even know if you were a boy or girl, and even now I can't honestly say that I see you as either. All I see is your big hazel eyes and sweet lips like your Daddy and dark brown hair and dark lashes like me. I picture holding you in my arms and having you tuck your sweet face into my chest. I see your Daddy holding you with a look of pride that I have never seen. And it makes it so hard to say good-bye to you. My heart broke that day. A sizeable chip completely shattered never to be healed. I know there were conversations with people about how "sorry" they were for our loss...but none of them were sad for you. But I was. I was shattered and some days I still am. I can't even type this without tears falling from my eyes. I miss you sweet baby. I miss you so much my heart has not entirely healed. I get by day to day...but moment to moment you are there in my thoughts. This Christmas is not as bright for me, because I don't have you to share it with.
So after some time the doctors cleared us to "try again". It was like everyone thought that if we could replace one lost child with another child, that the hurt would go away and we could get back to "normal." I wasn't ready. We weren't ready. We mourned. We cried. I avoided all things baby... And then, we celebrated my 29th birthday and low and behold by the end of March...we were blessed...again.
The story of.....two.
I couldn't shake the feeling that maybe my saddness over the last few months were taking a toll and making me sick. But when those sick feelings were accompanied by a late cycle, I revisited the small plastic stick. Sure enough....we started over. Lab work was done on Thursday and I was instructed to come back Monday as the levels were low. "Positive, but low" is what the nurse told me on the phone Friday afternoon. Saturday we spent time wondering if we were ready for this again. And by Sunday...it was over...again. Our second little angel said goodbye before we even saw their little form on ultrasound. It was like my heart broke all over again. This time the break took off anonther little chip of my heart and left a few resounding scars. I was petrifed. What if we would never actually see one our our lovely babies in the flesh? Was I broken? Was I less of a woman and even less of a mother because I couldn't bear my own children?
The doubt is still there everyday. Since then we have had testing. Lab work upon lab work....ultrasounds....hystersalipinogram.....and we've done it all together. I cry alot. I cry sometimes when I get my cycle for the month just knowing that it resulted in another month with no child. I have an emptiness in my heart that has not resolved. We have an emptiness in our life that we can't fill. Michael and I want to be parents so badly that it's hard to find pleasure in other people's happiness. We've become insensitve to the effects of other people's happiness. Don't misunderstand, we are happy for our friends that are starting new lives, because we were there once too and we were more happy than we've ever been in our lives. Getting married and making that decision to share your life with someone is joyous and we've shared that with a few this year. Finding out you are pregnant and that you are going to be parents for the first time, we are experiencing that too...and we are happy for those. But deep in my heart there is a hole. I envy those women who get to have a "normal" pregnancy. I fear that any one of those women that are close to me will every have to endure the heart ache that I've endured. It's an overwhelming list of emotions. I can't navigate most of them...not even part of the time. So I don't. I try to deal with each day on a moment to moment basis. If I allow myself to get too wrapped up in all the happiness of others it only makes my lack of that particular happiness overwhelming. So I keep it at a distance.
I have to say about half way through November I realized I'm a little less "thankful" this year. I know that is selfish and generally a lot less positive than I usually try to be. But I'm heartbroken and I realize how fortunate we are, but is that really enough for the rest of my life? Is that really enough for me to just go on being the greatest aunt or the "almost" aunt forever? I'm somebody's mom! I just dont' have a baby here to show you. My babies are in some far away heaven and I can't even pretend to not be bothered every time someone asks, "So, do you have any children?" or "When are you and your husband going to start a family?" WE HAVE!!! You have no idea!
And here comes Christmas around the bend. A very holiday surroung the birth of a savior and I can't even give birth to a non-savior. Please don't think I'm less Christian for thinking these things about Jesus, but I'm at the point where I'm jealous of Mary. That is true sadness. And I'm supposed to believe that God has a plan. I tell myself over and over that "God will only give us what we can truly handle." Do I believe that? At this point in time, do I believe that? I have a sadness in my heart that makes the christmas lights a little less twinkly and the music a little less cheerful. Although the decorations are up, I'm not sure that I feel cheerful. I've noticed it more this year. Usually I want the lights up weeks ahead of Thanksgiving so that I can turn them on the Friday after...granted my husband knows this about me and had them up the week before and we did do just that...my heart really isn't in it. We decorated yesterday and are heading out for a tree today, but the thought of pulling out last years ornament that had names of our whole little family..."Michael, D'Arcy, Saucy, Pina, Katy, Daisy, Bubba, and Baby" (yes, we get an ornament with our cats as part of our family every year), is enough to make the tears come. I don't want to forget. I just want it to not hurt so severely.
I guess that's the story. The saddest tale that I could possibly tell. The tale of two losses with the addition of my loss of Holiday spirit. I have faith and I will try to hold on to that over the next few weeks. I will try to smile and make it a happy holiday because I know I won't be able to take it back when things aren't so dark. So Christmas tree shopping we go and this year I'm placing two little angels on the tree.
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