Growing up my mom always told us that you can feel as good as you want to feel. To this day, I still believe that. During the last year and a half, I wanted to feel sad. I liked feeling sorry for myself. I enjoyed hiding in dark closets crying my eyes out with tissues all around. It felt good. It felt good to be angry with God. I liked shouting at him, and blaming him for my pain and depression. And didn’t I have a lot to be depressed about? Wasn’t my pain justified? Wasn’t it all His fault?
I lost the first baby, when I was 5 months pregnant. Almost half way there. I lost the second one 8 months later, on Mother’s Day weekend. Wasn’t I a good enough mother for a second baby? I lost the third one, right before Christmas this past year. An operation before Christmas? Really, God? Why even give me the baby if you are going to take it away? At least let me enjoy Christmas!
New year, new me, isn’t that how the saying goes? Well, the new me, in the new year decided to change my outlook on life and get over myself. I owed it to Johan and Ava to not waste another year sad or angry. If that meant getting on birth control to avoid any disappointments, then that’s what I’d do. We decided to look at booking a holiday with some friends to Thailand and just use 2014 to relax and enjoy life.
The first thing I had to do was to stop fighting God. I had to accept the past and begin trusting in his plans for me, for us. I needed to get back to reading His word and listening to Him. To thanking Him for all that we do have. Back to focusing on love and laughter. Isn’t that what life is all about?
As I started working on my happiness, I noticed my health was beginning to deteriorate. Since the operation in December, I just didn’t feel right. Like my body wasn’t going back to normal. I was gaining weight faster than I had ever before. I was tired, agitated and overall uncomfortable.
Last Friday I went to see my doctor. She starts every appointment with this sad face and “how are you“. She’s been with me since the birth of Ava, so she knows all my ups and downs. I told her about taking a year off of trying for a baby and that we were coming to terms with the thought of only having one child. We talked about our trip to Thailand and just trying to make 2014 a happier year. She agreed that if that’s what I wanted, then we should go for it. Especially, if it makes me happy.
As I began to explain my ailments, a smile slowly crossed her face. “You’re pregnant”, she said. Impossible. My cycle hadn’t even gotten back on track since the last miscarriage, so how could I possibly be pregnant? She insisted we do an ultrasound to check.
When the cold gel hit my tummy, visions of my last visit soared through my head. Back to that day when Johan grabbed my arm, pointed to the ultrasound screen and said, “oh good, there’s the baby”. Then the doctor’s shoulders shrank and she grabbed my other arm and said, I’m sorry, but no, we’ve lost it”.
Back to last Friday, as the black and white ultrasound screen flickered, and then settled into focus, there on the screen was a baby. A big baby. A 15 week old baby. A bomb could have gone off around us and my doctor and I wouldn’t have noticed. We sat in silence for a few minutes. Looked at each other. Laughed. Looked back at the screen and basically stared in shock.
I had a D&C after my miscarriage in December, it’s where they scrap the uterus, in case you don’t know. How this baby survived, we don’t know. I have seen my doctor again, got a second opinion from another doctor and even went for a 4D scan. Not one of them can tell me how this happen, but I know. I know it was God. Only he can perform miracles and this little baby is our miracle. He survived a D&C. He’s a fighter.
Johan and I are still in shock. It’s weird to go in for a checkup and come out almost 4 months pregnant, but we couldn’t be happier.
What I’ve learned so far this year, is that when I finally gave up on how I thought my life should be and gave into trusting in God’s plans, he answered all my prayers and more. He’s given me hope. He’s given me strength.
Oh, and it’s a boy!