I think I stumbled across this post via Reader, and I just found it amazing, and thought I’d share with anyone who might pass by here. It is so worth following the link and reading her entire post.
Strength was required to try again, when experience had told me it wasn’t worth it.
Strength was required to rise out of bed each morning, while wondering if I had awoken to the day in which my baby would die.
Strength was required to announce my pregnancy when there was a chance I might be announcing it’s tragic end soon after.
Strength was required to face the inevitable questions of “is this your first pregnancy?” Or, “how many children do you have?”
Strength was required to overcome the embarrassment of calling the doctor more often than she would have preferred.
Strength was required to endure weekly appointments and painful shots.
Strength was required to choose a nursery theme when I knew the nursery might never be used.
Strength was required to buy a “going home” outfit for a baby who might not actually go home.
Strength was required to simply wait, knowing that tragedy might occur while doing so.
Strength was required to take a chance on loving a baby, who wasn’t guaranteed the opportunity to love me back.
Strength was required to fight for something, someone, that I wanted so badly, when I knew I might come out on the losing end.
January 31, 2015. I had a baby. But the hospital atmosphere was anything but celebratory. My baby had been born 20 weeks too soon, and as expected, did not survive. Giving birth had resulted in death instead of life. The hope that I had carried in expectation of adding a baby to our family had […]