Friday, July 16, 2010

Nine

I had to get my pre-op bloodwork done yesterday. I drove to the hospital, stocked Will up with snacks, plopped him in his stroller, and headed to the lab.

Boy, is the paperwork thorough for all of the blood. The kind gentleman who took my blood did not speak English as a first language, so it was painstaking work going through each form that needed to filled out. We were there for quite awhile for just two vials of blood, but I am glad that he was thorough, since we don't need any mistakes!

It was while I was sitting there, with Will in his stroller next to me, that it happened. The tech looked at me and asked, "How many pregnancies have you had?"

Well. . . usually, to keep it simple, I would just answer two. That's really what most people want to know anyway. But he went on. "How many miscarriages have you had?"

"Nine," came my response.

"One?" he echoed, clearly not thinking he heard me correctly.

"Nine," I repeated.

His eyebrows raised and he wrote the number down with his ballpoint pen. It looked so stark on the paper. Then he went on and asked how many live births, last rhogam shot, etc.

I do not ever forget my lost babies, but part of dealing with my miscarriages has been to move forward in many senses. I try not to dwell on everything that we don't have and instead focus on the miracles that we have been blessed with. We went through a lot to get to where we are, and I am certainly affected by it, but try not to let it overshadow my life as it once did.

But there are moments when the reality hits me and I really start to think about it. It makes me even more grateful for this moment. I know so many of you are still waiting for your first miracle while I get to have a second one. I am sure my fears about the transition, my nerves about the preparation, may have made it seems at times as if I have forgotten where I came from.

It is quite the oppositive, however. You see, I know what a gift we have been given. Twice. I know that we are blessed beyond measure and I never want to fail these children. I want to be the mother that they deserve and I constantly fear falling short of that. My preparation and nerves are just me wanting to try and make everything "perfect" for these children that we love so very much.

Will changed everything and now Emma will, too. Those nine other souls also changed everything. They made me realize that life is so precarious and precious and not to take any of it for granted. They are with me every single day.

6 comments:

Ms. J said...

I get ya, honey.

Every time (EVERY time) I am alone in my basement on my treadmill...I cry about the babies that died inside me, and the one adoption referal that didn't pan out because the baby had juvenile leukemia (our dr. determined based on medical reports we were sent) and was going to die. Oh, I am fighting back tears right now.

Luv you endlessly for sharing. Really.

Rachel said...

Such a beautiful post. While I have not lost any babies, I am sure that the wait (and the years of anxiety about it) have made me cherish all of the little moments with my daughter even more.

HereWeGoAJen said...

I remember yours too.

Stacey said...

All I can say is Yes, and I understand this. Thank you for writing this. It is amazing to think of all that you've overcome to have these two babies, but I know we never ever forget the ones we lost. Remembering with you. <3

Surely said...

wow. nine. that's amazing. and your attitude of gratefulness and courage is even more amazing. =)
hope everything goes super well with Emma's delivery! can't wait to meet her!

studentrntiffany said...

I too can understand this feeling. I dont think that anyone expects us/you to forget or even move on. We all have to find our way of coping.

I love that you have turned such a difficult experience into a drive to be such an amazing mother to your earthly children. What a wonderful legacy to all 11 of your babies.

Im proud to know you.