What Brady Taught Me

Today was Henry's big brother Brady's second birthday.  He was born into heaven on March 27, 2013.  My pregnancy with Brady was easy, up until it wasn't.  I didn't really have nausea, I was a little more tired than usual (and crankier, as Tim would attest!), but overall I felt well and had no complications.  That all changed on March 22.  We had my wedding shower at school that day, and I indulged in plenty of treats.  When I got home that evening, I didn't feel especially great, but assumed it was indigestion.  This indigestion kept me up all night, and I remember worrying that if I couldn't handle a little indigestion, how in the world would I handle labor?!  When Tim woke up on Saturday and I was still in pain, he insisted we go to the hospital and get everything checked out.  That's when we found out it wasn't indigestion, but was early labor.  As I explained last night, we spent time in the hospital, and Brady was ultimately born sleeping on March 27.

Although he was not with us long, Brady still taught me some important lessons.  As soon as I found out I was pregnant, I was no longer the most important person in my life.  All of a sudden, this little being, tinier than my fingernail at that point, was more important than anything else.  I started worrying right away...what if something was wrong?  What if I ate the wrong thing?  Had I had anything to drink before realizing I was pregnant?  As the pregnancy went along, I continued to worry...feeling solely responsible for this tiny being that I loved fiercely without every having met him.  So first and foremost, Brady taught me what is really important in life, and that being a mother is the best role I will every have.

Then, Brady taught me to enjoy the little things.  I remember clearly the first time I felt him move.  I was driving to Lincoln, cruising along on the interstate.  About halfway there, I felt a little flutter...almost like a gas bubble but distinctly different.  I immediately put my hand on my tummy...knowing that was our little duck in there.  That feeling of fierce love washed over me again every time I felt him flutter.  During this pregnancy, I got irritated at things like my growing belly, food not tasting the same, feeling tired...I saw these as annoyances rather than a blessing.  After losing Brady, I enjoyed every second of being pregnant with Henry.  I loved seeing my belly swell, feeling him moving around, even the indigestion and discomfort as he got bigger.  I knew not to take any of that for granted, and I thank Brady for that.

And Brady taught me how strong I really am.  Prior to having him, I never really thought about whether I was strong or not.  After losing him, I certainly doubted my strength.  Looking back, though, I know that I was strong.  I kept going.  I may have wanted to hide in bed, or in a blanket fort, but I kept pushing through.  I leaned on Tim, and family and friends, and kept living.  I was strong enough to have Henry, and strong enough to keep going after losing him.  No one wants to have to be this strong, but thanks to my boys I am.

I still wish that Brady (and Henry) were here with us.  I am thankful that he was big enough for us to hold, that we got to meet him.  I am thankful for the compassionate nurses and doctors that took care of us, and those that understood our high anxiety when we got pregnant again.  I am most thankful that since our boys can't be with us, they can be together, and one day we will be with them again.  Happy birthday Brady!