A few months ago I was told that I wouldn’t be able to have any more children. It was a shock without a doubt even though I couldn’t imagine myself with any more kids. I already have 4 but it broke my heart just hearing that I couldn’t have anymore. Then in June I was told that due to the current medications that I’m on and the stress that my disability is having on my body I was entering early menopause. Another huge shock but I dealt with it just like everything else in my life. Why cry over spilled milk? I then found out a week ago (Saturday July 31, 2010 to be exact) that I was pregnant again. I cried, I yelled, I cussed. I was hurt, scared, and angry but underneath it all I was also happy. Happy because all children are a blessing and this baby was my miracle baby. Would it be hard to raise 5 kids on my own? Of course but there was a reason why God gave me this baby. And then just like that, it was gone.
I wasn’t sure I’d be able to carry another child. With the amount and types of medications that I am on there was a chance the baby, if it survived, would be born with serious complications. Plus the pressure of carrying a child on my already fragile back could leave me at best in the hospital on bed rest and at the worst permanently paralyzed. But I don’t believe in abortion except when necessary to save the mother’s life and my life wouldn’t be in jeopardy. My boyfriend didn’t want to take the risk at all. The one family member that I did tell told me I’d be a fool to have the baby so I didn’t tell anyone else but my twitter fam (a group of great women who have been so supportive but whom I’ve never even met). I tried to escape all of what's going on this week by staying on the blogs and trying to fill my head with mindless nonsense but that didn't work out because my presence, words and who knows what offended other people. My mom and friends complained that I was distant and had an attitude, right now they aren't speaking to me at all. Funny thing is, you never know what someone is going through. I saw the doctor on Wednesday and learned that the baby appeared to be healthy and that with the exception of two medications I could continue my current regimen without worry in regards to the baby although carrying the baby would put me through hell to say the least and I thought I could deal with it. I told the dr I’d been cramping and she said that was normal for now and she referred me to a group of specialists for my back and scheduled a follow up appointment for the following week. I had my ultrasound and saw him or her (I’m going for him) and finally set my mind to the fact that I was going to have this baby. My blood pressure was high at the visit but it was one time and we attributed it to stress. Until that night when my cramping got worse. I went in for a second visit and found out that my blood pressure was still high, too high and with the early stage of the pregnancy there was no way to determine if the baby was okay and given the circumstances combined with my health, my dr decided that I could not continue with the pregnancy.
I found out I was pregnant on Saturday and by Thursday afternoon, my baby was gone. The boyfriend doesn’t understand. He can’t understand how I can be actually hurt over a baby I never knew but this was my miracle and that’s not something you just get over. Whether it was 4 days, 4 hours or 4 seconds, I had a life growing inside me, a life that would have grown into a child no different than the 4 sleeping kids lying next to me as I type this right now. That was mine¸ of my own flesh and blood, that is now gone. I would have to be completely heartless to not feel something. I have yet to tell anyone else what happened because I don’t want to answer the questions, receive the looks from the same people who couldn’t understand my hurt when I discovered I couldn’t have any more kids earlier this year (because as so many said, I have more than enough already) so I’m writing this here. So that while baby Cinco (for #5) will never be known to everyone else, it will always be there in the back of my mind as what could have been. Life goes on and everything happens for a reason, what is this reason? I have no idea but I know that I can't simply move on and forget. It's amazing how you can love someone you've never even met but I did. I fell in love with him because he was mine, because he wasn't supposed to be here, because I thought I would never feel what it's like to be pregnant again and then just like that I was. He was my last shot, I won't have another one. They will be tying my tubes next week so that another "mistake" like this can't happen but to me it's not a mistake. How can you call life a mistake? You may be wondering why I'm writing all this, well it's so that someone else knows what happened this week. I don't want him to be forgotten, just another blurb in the monotonous moving picture of life. So that someone knows that a life was created this week and now that life is gone but the memory of that life will always be here and I will never ever forget. He deserves that much, I never got to hold his little hands or see his little face but I loved it, if no one else did. It’s only fitting that my birthday is tomorrow yet he (or she) never got to see his. There are those who will read this and say I'm over reacting and maybe I am, maybe I'm too sensitive or should grow a tougher skin but that's easier said than done and my heart hurts for my child that I wasn't able to have.