Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Streets of Heaven

I haven't blogged in awhile and I apologize for that.

Four years ago on the Saturday after thanksgiving I found out I was pregnant. I was over the moon. It was the first month we had tried. She to this day is the only baby we tried for. I remember POAS (it was a clear blue easy digital).

I went down stairs to show Big man. The way I told him I had bought an Atlanta Falcons onesie and handed it to him. It took him a minute and then his eyes got wide. He was so happy. We told out parents with Christmas cards that said "Merry Christmas Grandma and Grandpa."

I think we were all in a state of shock. I certainly wasn't expecting it to happen so fast. I had read stories about how hard it can be to conceive a child. I was so excited that for ONCE we were catching a break in something that something was going to be easy for us.

The first trimester was super easy. The only thing that had me worried was they kept pushing my due date back. By my last period it should have been Aug. 10, then it was moved to Aug. 13th, then the 16th and by the last ultrasound it was August 26.

Our first Christmas as a married couple we were given an ornament that was an upside down umbrella with baby toys in it. I was so happy thinking that this time in a year we would have a four month old baby. Part of me knew she would be a girl.

Before this I have been lucky in my life, I had never had any one close to me die.

When I was in the hospital bed waiting to deliver her I kept thinking that she was going to be all alone in heaven. Who would keep her company? Who would tell her about me? Would she be lonely? Would she know how sorry I was that I couldn't make her healthy? That I couldn't protect her? Why was she being taken from me? What had I done that was so terrible that I was faced with this choice? Didn't God know how badly I wanted this baby? Why did crack heads who don't want their babies get to have them? Wouldn't I be a good mom?

Then when it came time to push I can't tell you the absolute terror I was seized with. If I could just keep her inside me, I could protect her, please don't make me push her out I can't she needs to stay safe. You don't understand I need to PROTECT HER. Please don't make me say good bye.

I don't know how I did it, but I did.

Some days I am ok, but I am not nearly as ok as I act like I am. Drugs don't work, alcohol doesn't work. Writing helps a little.