Wow...it's been nearly two years since I've written anything here. And what a two years to omit. Probably two of the most dramatic years of my life. And how odd that I should suddenly think about this dead thing at this point and time in my life. It's actually quite fun to look back at these posts. Fun to see the journey I was on. I can sort of understand why I stopped writing when I did. Week 12 of carrying Annabelle. Yes, she has a name. And a soul. A laugh. A spirit. A smile. And LOVE. So much love. It's funny to read how I felt about being pregnant. I can confirm two things. 1) I still hate every aspect of being pregnant. I was not a fan of the process. and 2)I do miss the Bo that was but I sure to love the Bo that I've become. She's a mama. And she loves being a mama. And the funny thing is I think I'm more Bo than I was before. I'm stronger than I was before. I'm just as fearless if not more. But now I'm a mama and so I'm fiercer than I was before. I'm more involved in the world around me than I was before (is that even possible?).
Anyway, the pregnancy was the start of a wild, transformative ride. Here's the short story.
2010 - the company I worked for, the company I loved, announced that it was being aquired by a big, slow, monster. I was told I was being cut and then I was told that I was not being cut. Not a fun game for a woman who was 20 weeks pregnant. I stayed. I got a bonus. I was told I was very important to the company. Whatever. We went on a Babymoon to Hawaii. Snorkeling paradise. Note to self: Do not try to hike into a dormant volcano when you are 22 weeks pregnant. You may not be able to climb out.
2011 - Annabelle arrives. Great Joy!
2012 - Leave the monster that was my former beloved employer. Get a new job. Love the job. Hate the travel and the amount of work. Love the public platform it gives me to do what I love to do. Annabelle is the perfect baby for J and I.
And that pretty much brings us to the present. And just leaving out a few minor details.
A few more words about Annabelle. It is my belief that we all get the child that we deserve. Annabelle is that child. She is perfection. She may not be perfect for everyone but she is perfect for us. She is smart as a whip, independent as all hell, strong as an ox, tall as a tree, stubborn as a mule, and about as beautiful as they come. She is feisty. Some people may not appreciate a child who so truly believes in her own rightness that she thinks you (the parent) is clearly an imbecile but I appreciate this about her. I could share story upon story about things Annabelle has done that amazes me but that's what facebook is for.
Have I said that Annabelle is perfection? I LOVE that little girl.
But I guess the real reason I'm writing this. The real reason I want to record this is because I have to let go of my sadness. Very few people know this and I don't think anyone realizes the depth of my sadness. I'm afraid I've become almost too good at compartmentalizing my grief.
I feel so betrayed. By science and medicine...and also my body. We were being careful. And god knows we weren't having that much sex. One truth about parenting...it does zap you of all desires to have sex. But the birth control failed and I got pregnant. But I didn't know. And this one was so different from the last. With Annabelle the signs showed up quick and early. One day I'm feeling great and the next....we'll I'm throwing up all over the Rome airport. But this one, I was feeling fine. Maybe a little tired but otherwise strong and healthy. But then I got sick. Strep throat. And then there was that injury. And all required drugs. Powerful drugs. And I took those drugs because I didn't know I was pregnant. And I even got my period...or what I thought was my period. But then it started. The nauseau. The extreme fatigue. What's wrong with me? Why do I feel so sick? God, this feeling is so familiar. Like I'm pregnant. And there are the two pink lines. In a hotel room in Lake George on vacation. With Annabelle napping away. And I think about all the things I did and didn't do. No prenatal vitamins. No watching what I was eating. All those powerful drugs and pain killers to deal with the swelling and the strep throat. What could they have done to the baby inside me? What was going on.
And so I visit the doctor expecting him to tell me that the baby was 5 or 6 weeks along and that all looked well. But the news wasn't so good. The baby looked to be about 11 weeks along. Oh my god. So old already. I could see that it was fully formed. Arms, legs, head, fingers, and even toes. I bet if they had audio I could have heard the heartbeat. Oh my god. This baby that I did not know about was inside me. This future perfection. What have I done to you? The doctor said he wouldn't be able to tell me if everything would be okay. It was too early. But I did take a lot of drugs and I wasn't taking care of myself.
And was I even ready. Annabelle was a conscious choice. And one that we feel blessed was so easy to conceive. This little one. I didn't know you even existed. How could I? Everything betrayed me.
And the doctor said if we want to terminate it would be easy to do it now rather than later because if the fetus became any bigger it would be a much more significant procedure. And so there I was taking the Valium and the Vicodin. And 45 minutes later it was all over. The baby was gone.
And the baby was gone. And a part of my heart and soul was gone.
I think about Annabelle and her perfection. And I think about the baby. What gender was it? I don't know. What if the same thing had happened when I conceived Annabelle. And what if I had made the same decision. There would be no Annabelle.
And I am so deeply sad.
I say to myself..."Well, on the bright side you're still really fertile. At 36, almost 37, you got pregnant without even trying. How many women your age are still so fertile?" Always a silver lining, right?
And next year. That's what J and I tell each other. Next year is when we will start trying for baby number 2.
But it's not really baby number 2, is it. It's really baby number 3.
And so there it is. I needed somewhere to put this. Somewhere that I can honor the baby that I will never have. The baby that was not meant to be. And even though nothing was right I know that you were perfect. Every baby is perfect. And every baby deserves to feel perfect.
And so there is it is. To live on in this story. For no one else to see but me. My record of my life.
I have been so blessed. A wonderful career, an amazing partner, a cute dog, and a perfect child. And I am blessed to live in a state where I was not harasses by my doctor. Or made to feel like a bad person.
But saddness exists and keeps all in balance. I love you and I pray for you wherever you may be.