For as long as I can remember, I’ve always wanted to be a mom. It took me a while to find “the one”—the man who would become your dad. So when I knew he was the one, I told him right away about my deepest desire.
When I saw the “+” on the pregnancy test, I couldn’t keep it a secret. I wanted to run outside and shout that I was going to be a mom! The neighbors live way too close here, so I decided to “set the stage” for the announcement inside. 🙂 Eventually, we told our parents, friends, and extended family.
I was already looking forward to finding out your gender, to seeing if you’d have your dad’s eyes or my dimple, to hearing your laughter and the sound of your voice. But an unexplained doubt lingered in my mind. I was researching miscarriages and even asked a friend who’d been through one. I couldn’t explain why I was acting that way.
At my first doctor’s appointment, at 12 weeks, I was really looking forward to hearing your heartbeat for the very first time and, at the same time, putting my worries to rest. The doctor asked me lots of questions, but all I wanted was to hear that “thump-thump” sound. When the doctor finally placed the Doppler on my belly and I could see him searching, I got anxious and squeezed your dad’s hand really tight. I looked at him, and he understood what I was trying to say. Something wasn’t right. They told me about my retroverted uterus, which I hadn’t known about. They said you might be deep inside my belly, which was why we couldn’t hear your heartbeat. I tried to push away the negative thoughts that were flooding my mind, but deep down, I knew you had already become a little star… My star.
The doctor finished by telling me that one in four pregnancies ends in a miscarriage, but that we’d know for sure after the ultrasound. I didn’t want you to be part of that statistic, but I had no control over that part of life… even though I love having control sometimes (all the time).
After the ultrasound, we were told that your heart had stopped beating.
That day, December 21, 2012, was the end of the world according to the Mayan calendar. For Dad and me, it really was. We cried a lot that night. We couldn’t think of anything else.
Over time, the pain has eased, but it’s impossible to forget your all-too-short time in our lives.
We’ll never forget you, little angel.
Mom, who loves you