I've been on quite the journey the last six months. I worked through the most intense grief I've ever experienced. I had countless Doctor appointments. I had awkward and invasive tests. I got a diagnosis and answers! I quit my job. I started school. I got a new job. I started going to a church closer to us. And I changed my priorities from children to a career.
So much has changed, but yet I still would give everything to have Connor here with us. How I would love to feel him kick right now. How much I would enjoy daydreaming about our new life if I could.
When people think about pregnancy, several things coming to mind. Morning sickness, ultrasounds, feeling kicks, mood swings, a growing belly, your water breaking, labor, finally holding your little one. I believe it is highly likely that I will never experience all of those things, but I'm grateful for all of the new things I got to experience with Connor.
Each pregnancy has been special to me, but this one was the most hopeful. We got to see him alive in our first ultrasound. I begged the doctor to order an early ultrasound specifically because I wanted a chance to see our baby alive. I knew that there were no guarantees. The joy that we both felt as we saw that little heart beating was indescribable. Looking back, I'm so grateful for our ultrasound tech. She knew our history, and why we were there. She was so happy for us, but realistically explained that it still wasn't a guarantee. She got it. She understood.
Oh what a difference those two ultrasounds were. Immediately we could see the concern, and I knew. I knew he should be bigger than that. All we could do was wait for her to actually say it. She was kind and sympathetic. She told us everything she could. And then we left.
It was over. There wasn't any hope anymore. The only expectation was a long few days of very preterm labor. It was horrible. I nearly passed out multiple times. I slept on the bathroom floor when I could. It was one of the worst nights of my life. And then it was done. He was gone. I no longer was pregnant.
The stages of grief are predictably unpredictable. Every ten minutes felt like a shift. I have never experienced the depths of grief like I did with his death. The anger and bitterness. The denial. The extreme guilt. The depression. Never has the world seemed so dark as it did those following months.
Time does heal. It doesn't forget, but it eases life. The days are few and far between that I feel trapped in despair. I am so grateful for the amazing support I have found in old friends, new friends, new doctors, and our family. I have felt the amazing level of support from each of you. Thank you. Thank you so much for letting me talk, cry, laugh, despair, rejoice, and experience all facets of life with you. And most of all, I truly thank you for not forgetting my little angels. Every time someone mentions them by name, it's like a warm bubble of contentment grows in me. Thank you for letting me remember, and not pushing me to get past something I will never be fully past. And to all my beautiful friends, sisters, who have been where I am, thank you for sharing with me. Thank you for showing me that I'm not alone. Thank you for knowing that the right words are sometimes not words at all. I'm so grateful to have met each one of you.
What could very well be my last "first" estimated due date is fast approaching. Everyone laughed at the irony when I told them my due date was Labor Day. It will be a labor of my heart this year, and I will never forget my highly desired boy.
