Three months ago tonight, Sam and I were settling into our nightly routine of sleeping in the hospital. It would have been our third night there. I remember being very frustrated and confused. I felt so, so horrible. I was swelling so much, my head was killing me, but yet I had my precious baby alive inside of me. I remember being so nauseous and sick and wanting relief but yet never wanting it all to come to an end. I remember how confused we were. We had had many, many talks with God and we really felt that my health was in jeopardy (which it really was), but yet we just talked with doctor after doctor about what was to come. I remember crying and not wanting this to all be over and yet desperately wanting to meet our Mary. Three months ago tonight, at midnight, the head perinatal doctor came in and told us we would be having Mary the next day.
Three months ago tomorrow was the best and worst day of my life. Tomorrow will be hard. For some reason the 13th of each month just tortures me. It has some sick control over my mind and emotions. No matter how hard I pray, the days leading up to "Mary's Day" as we call it, are never fun. I'm so emotional. I get so mad. So sad. So confused. So tired. So many emotions... all usually over nothing. As I'm writing this, I'm talking with another mom, and dear friend, who lost her baby girl not long after Mary. We know that this will never get easier, we will just learn how to live with it. We wonder, especially tonight, when THAT begins to happen? There are still times, too often, that I physically hurt while missing Mary. Then there are days that I am so happy and realize how extremely blessed I am to be Mary's mommy. I thank God for giving her to me for 32 weeks inside and 106 minutes in our arms. Tonight, in preparation for tomorrow, I will share how thankful I am for my husband and my daughter in our 106 perfect minutes as a family. I can relive so many things again and again, but tonight I will remember the strength we had that day. Sam and I loved Mary and thought she was perfect. We kissed her, hugged her, tried to keep her warm. We sang to her and we prayed over her. Then, somehow...with the strength that only God can give us, we realized she was struggling. This wasn't new. We'd known this would happen for a while, but now we were actually watching it. Watching your child, literally dying in front of your eyes, is the single hardest thing any mother and father can ever experience. God gave us strength though. Sam and I prayed so hard over Mary. We prayed that God would take her home anytime he was ready. We knew He had answered our prayers. We knew that Mary was going to go home. We prayed that she would be courageous as she took her last, little tiny breaths. Praying your child passes in peace is not easy. Let me assure you of this. It was the hardest thing I've ever done. But... Sam and I did it together. We held each other, and our daughter, and knew God was holding us. As I sit and reflect on this, I pray for that same strength tomorrow, and every hard day to come. I know that Sam will always be there, and together we will get through all the hard days. I know God is always there, and is carrying us when we can't do it ourselves. I praise God for the strength He gives me on days when I don't think it's possible.
Tomorrow will come whether I am ready for it or not. Then four months, five months, six months, a year, two years, ect. will all come. I will try to muster all the strength from within to make the days happy and joyous and celebrate the life God has blessed me with. Mary's memory will never die, she continues to make an impact on this world, and we are so proud to be her mommy and daddy.
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| I know I might be biased, but have you ever seen such a perfect "imperfect" baby? Her little body, of 69 chromosomes, looks just like a precious baby. |
