A different kind of #tbt

Two years ago...we were hanging out in a lovely room at Bergan-Mercy. We'd been in the hospital for several days, with what I initially thought was indigestion, but was actually early labor. We had an emergency cerclage, got discharged the next day, and ended up back at the hospital later that night. Over the next few days, the doctors and nurses worked to get the contractions to stop, but they never quite did. This was the first year I actually watched any March Madness...it was better than any other daytime TV!

Two years ago tonight my water broke. I'll never forget that moment when the resident came in, said there was in fact an infection, and that there was nothing else they could do but wait for our baby to be born. Since we weren't yet 24 weeks, he wouldn't be able to go to the NICU. Thus started a long night of labor, waiting, tears...

When you first become pregnant, you never imagine it ending like this...you never imagine walking out of the hospital with all the physical after effects of giving birth, but with no baby. You don't imagine planning a memorial for your baby who was born without ever taking a breath. You can't imagine the depth of pain or immense sense of loss. After such a loss, the innocent belief that being pregnant means you will bring home a baby is gone.

Yet even though we didn't bring home a baby, I didn't come away with nothing. I came away with a greater appreciation for enjoying every little moment. My relationship with Tim became so much stronger as we came together in our grief. And I realized how much it meant to me to be a mother.