It is in that simplicity in knowing that I am in fact part of a bigger picture. We all are. For no reason we find ourselves living at the same time bound by our place in eternity. This moment will soon be forgotten with nobody left to bring it back to life. That is so powerful in itself to think about.
My favourite advice is just get over it, but how do you just get over something that hasn’t occurred. A week and a half ago I was told there was no heartbeat but I prolonged the inevitable asking for bloodwork. I needed to know from all corners of my heart that my baby was gone and couldn’t be saved.
I never imagined I would be blessed with a rainbow baby and now I have to pray to the heaven’s for two? I know I am not worthy of that kind of salvation. My life was saved when my Schmoo was given to me. I try not to focus on the pain but it is all that I have. Right now I am relying on my three year old to save me and it is such a terrible place to be.
Have you ever been so scared of your own shadow you just want to jump and hide away? I would hide away forever if that meant my baby could finally stay. I want to hope for the best but all around me others are trying to get me to accept my fate. To all other’s tomorrow is just another date but for me when tomorrow comes I will finally know my fate.
If I am going to have to end this dream of a baby I was hoping to one day see, I am going to have to proceed with caution and do what is right for me. If I can’t turn back the hands of time, I can at least demand some validity. There is no harm in a second opinion or getting my heart to ease.
I closed my eyes and waited as 5, 10, 15 minutes passed. She told me she wanted to do an internal ultrasound as my baby was too small. Of course I consented because I just needed to know but all she was doing was taking photos of my dead baby before she could finally tell me the words.