The day I started living-really living-was the day I was told you were dead, Natalie. I was coasting through life, not really thinking about what I was doing or why, but then I found out I was pregnant with you. I majored in accounting, simply because I was smart enough to get the grades and I knew I could make a good living. I did well in school and went on to get a masters in it as well just for the heck of it. Did I feel passionately about it? No! Does anyone feel passionate about being an accountant? "Passion" and "accountant" really shouldn't be used in the same sentence! I just did it because I had no idea what to do with my life. I had spent most of it trying to make people happy and living up to other's expectations of myself. I always thought the key to a successful life was a simple equation. Graduate from college, get married, have a couple kids, make a decent amount of money, etc. Badda-bing-badda-boom happy life, right? Well, there's a lot more to it.
When your daddy and I decided to start a family, it all seemed pretty easy. I was hesitant to have kids for quite awhile-we got married pretty young which is just fine if it's the right person, but I was scared to take that plunge. As an only child, I knew nothing about children-just that they seemed messy and always sticky, with something dribbling from their face. The first diaper I changed was yours, my angel. I would only talk about starting a family after a couple glasses of wine. The next day I would write off all of the previous night's talk to the wine and on we went. Now, when I started talking about kids without having drinks, it seemed to indicate I was ready to go for it. I thought the next chapter in my life would be easy going, but it was far from it.
Luckily for us, we got pregnant the very first time we tried, although I had a heck of a time confirming it. Probably TMI, but your mom runs as regular as a Rolex watch, so I knew something was up when my visitor was not visiting. I can't really say how I felt "different", I just did. I dutifully called my doctor and scheduled my six week appointment, even though I wasn't able to get a positive test. I still didn't get a positive test at my six week appointment even though I had no indication anything was wrong. This prompted an early ultrasound. I was in fact pregnant, but at six weeks there should be a heartbeat - and there wasn't. I looked at the ultrasound, and my heart sank. I was told that it was probably a missed miscarriage, and I would miscarry in the next week. I was coldly handed a very sterile pamphlet about miscarriages and that blood work would be done to confirm the inevitable. They may have said more to me, but I entered a complete daze and quietly left the office in shock.
Before this moment, I hadn't put much thought into what it must be like to be a mother or how much I wanted it, but at that moment everything became crystal clear. Even though it still seemed like a bit of a dream. I imagined holding a baby that I loved more than life itself, and it being abruptly taken from me. I felt like a failure because my first attempt at having a child was not going to come into fruition, and-worst of all-I had no control of the situation. I drove still in a daze to a restaurant to have what was to be a celebratory lunch with your daddy, but instead had my first anxiety attack in the parking lot. I buried my face into the steering wheel and sobbed. There was nothing to celebrate. I felt full of failure and extremely confused. I returned to work that day due to lack of vacation time, quietly sobbing in my cubicle which (thankfully) had high walls because I was a senior accountant at this point-why not excel at something just for the heck of it? I tried to show no emotion that day and be "professional" - how messed up is our culture where we aren't allowed to show emotion? This is a situation where emotion was definitely in order. I had just lost a child I didn't even know I wanted. I had just experienced my first glimpse of the overwhelming love a mother has for her child. The "I would literally die for my child to save them" love. It's hardcore - it is scary and magnificent at the same time. That's how us moms are programmed.
The week that followed was the longest and scariest week of my life. I spent it in limbo and in yet another daze. I had my blood drawn every other day three times to check the amount of HCG (human chorionic gonadrotropin) in my system. (I have earned the equivalent of an abbreviated medical degree in all I have faced with bringing the three of you into this world). A healthy pregnancy is indicated by particular levels of this hormone and it's multiplication in set periods of time in early pregnancy. It's hard to write this now, but I had already given up on you from what my obstetrician had told me, even though there was this part of me, my gut I guess, that told me everything was okay. I cried so much that week, grieving the loss of my precious child I already was in love with, but I still had no physical evidence that anything was wrong. That week I had my first bouts with insomnia-it is one of the most helpless states I can describe. It is really hard to feel out of control when you have spent most of your life under the false impression that you (arrogantly) have control over pretty much everything. Your daddy spent many sleepless nights curled up with me as I wailed and cried for you to "just get out of me" if it wasn't meant to be. For the first time in my life in a long time, I prayed to God to save you. I don't remember the last time I had prayed. Still, I was discouraged. I yelled at you to just leave-little did I know that you weren't going anywhere, my girl. I began to receive good news. My HCG levels were high - almost indicative of twins (which you weren't, obviously), and my HCG levels were multiplying as they should be. I was told to come back to see my obstetrician for another ultrasound.
That day was one of the best days of my life - a healthy heartbeat-I just ovulate late. I had only been five weeks pregnant, not six. I can't express the joy I received from seeing that tiny little heart pounding away I saw that day. There is a silver lining to all the drama your pregnancy started out with. All the extra bloodwork led my doctor to discover a progesterone deficiency, which can cause miscarriages when everything else is fine. I was put on hormone supplements to alleviate this issue. If those extra tests wouldn't have been performed, I could very well have actually lost you. I think about that sometimes when you're giving me a big hug or when you're driving me crazy. It makes me be very thankful for you and puts a lot of the frustrations of raising children into perspective.
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| Natalie at six weeks gestation when a healthy heartbeat was found! |
I went on to have a healthy pregnancy, more than healthy by most standards. I delivered via C-section a healthy, 9lb 1oz baby girl on October 15, 2009. I was scared to death of having to have a C-section (I had a legit case of cephalopelvic disproportion), but I went through it just fine because I was focused on you, Natalie. I couldn't wait to meet this mysterious girl that wasn't but than was. Sometimes I feel a bit cheated of the rocky start we had, but I also give thanks for it. Because of it, you are a complete miracle to me. I never will EVER take you for granted, because while I was preparing myself for a loss, you were preparing me for the biggest blessing and gain I have ever received. I encourage you, Natalie, to treat life as a gift. Every life matters and we are ALL here for a purpose. It's all so surreal writing this to you tonight with you lying in bed next to me. You weren't supposed to be here, but yet you are. Going through what I did with you gave me a reason to NEVER give up hope in what you want most and to trust your gut, because your gut is usually right.
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| My sweet miracle at 4 years old. My miscarriage is awfully beautiful. |
I'm writing this for my kids-Natalie, Anders and Gwyneth. The three miracles that give my life purpose and the reason I get up every day. You guys have a fourth sibling that you will meet some day in heaven which is just as important to me. I don't know when you'll discover this blog, but I pray it finds you well and we are close. I can't begin to tell you what I went through to get you all here and how much I love you! I want you to always know I will be here for you - always. No questions asked. One thing I have struggled with my whole life is how to understand people, even people I should be very close to. If you ever find yourselves wondering why I am the way I am, why I say the things I do - keep reading. I'm about to tell you everything, the good and the bad. The monumental and the seemingly monotonous moments that make up your mother and the time we spent together during your childhood. Don't worry, there will be a lot of funny parts, too - I can't live life without laughing. Life will kill you, right? You might as well laugh your way through it! You must also take moments out of your day to recognize how amazing life is and to not let it pass you by like I did in my early years of ho-hum existence. Don't spend one minute coasting through life. Make it count!
This is also for anyone who needs encouragement and who might need a bit of help seeing the good things that have come out of difficult times. It's for people who don't think they matter, because they do-everyone matters and everyone has a purpose. It's for moms like myself that may need some help seeing the beauty in the many moments in our lives that seem mundane. It's for those of us that simply need help slowing down to enjoy life and get our prioritizes straight. It's also to remind everyone, like I try to remind myself every day to make life count. We are here a finite amount of time - make the time you have here matter. My kids and my marriage are the part of my life that have made it meaningful. They are the reason I am striving every day to improve myself, while realizing I will never be perfect. It's the journey that matters-live life to it's fullest, and above all else never give up hope. I never gave up on you, Natalie-my first born guinea pig. I couldn't imagine my life without you and that was for good reason. You were supposed to be here despite what I was told. The funny thing is that you have taught me much more than I have taught you in your four short years, but more on that later.
