Thursday, March 15, 2012

A conversation.

Back in August of 2010 I had my 20 week ultrasound scheduled. I was pregnant with my 5th baby. Something had been a little different with this pregnancy. I had a feeling something might be wrong. I didn't seem as big as I had been with my other babies. I had this feeling, but hoped that I was just carrying the baby differently and that everything would be ok. I made sure that my husband was able to go with me to this appointment because of the feelings I was having.

I'll never forget that day. That room. I remember some of what I was wearing.

Before the lady doing the ultrasound got started, I remember her telling me that she would believe it when she saw it because I was tiny.

When she started the ultrasound, she moved it around for a little bit and then said something like, "If you'll excuse me", and walked out the door. I, of course, began to cry. I wondered what was wrong, what was wrong with the baby.

Pretty soon my doctor came in and gave me the news that there was no heartbeat.

I had been into the doctor at 14 weeks and just decided to wait until my ultrasound to come in again. Her heart must have stopped beating at about 15 weeks.

I won't go into much of the rest of that day. It's one that's hard to think about. I felt some of the most intense sadness I've ever felt. Intense. Sadness.

A little while back I wondered if one of my kids was still having a hard time with the miscarriage. I decided to talk to this child. After speaking to this child for a little bit, my child said something like this. "If that baby wouldn't have died, would we still have Cali?"

"Probably not", was my reply.

I don't think that thought had ever even crossed my mind.

What I do know, is that I can't even BREATHE thinking about not having my Cali.

Maybe that conversation was not as much for my child, as it was for me.

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