It's been a long time since I wrote here. It seems like I tend to do a lot of updating on Facebook and of course writing for the Catholic Sistas website takes a lot of my time too. Still, I think of writing here almost every day but rarely get to it. I know I should be better about it since I love coming here and looking back on my days and remembering all the things we have done and have gone through. It's a good reminder of how far we've come in various aspects of our life.
Today marks 3 years since I gave birth to Joseph, or Little Joe, as I referred to him here when I posted his story. It's a sad day for me not only because of the loss of our son but because of how we were treated after we lost him by both sides of our family. It was a huge wake up call to us and we've never been the same.
On Monday I have an article over at the Catholic Sistas website that talks about today and how much we have changed in the past three years. I know that because of our faith we have been able to withstand so much more than we ever thought possible. Still, there are days like today that just rip at my heart and make me wonder why.
Of course on top of the pain I feel over losing my babies I have the fears that come along with this pregnancy too. Just after midnight early this morning I realized that it had been hours since I had last felt the baby move. I decided to do my kick count as instructed by the doctor and lay with my hands on my belly waiting to feel him move. He stayed still. I pushed and poked, changed my position, shined a flashlight on my belly and yet still he stay motionless. I began to panic. I got up and got some orange juice and then layed down on my left side hoping he would begin to move for me. Nothing happened. I started to pray with a fervor that I haven't felt in a long, long time. I pleaded with God to please let this little boy be ok. Just one kick and I would have relief. None came.
Mike was gone so I layed alone in the bed, crying and praying. I tried my hardest to calm my heart that seemed to be racing out of my chest. I focused as hard as I could to feel any kind of movement whatsoever. None came. I checked the clock. I knew that I was supposed to feel 10 movements within an hours time and if I didn't that I could give it another hour before calling the doctor. An hour had come and gone and still nothing. I prayed for a miracle.
As I lay there praying I tried my hardest to just trust God but it was so hard. We have experienced such horrible loss that I wasn't sure how I could handle a loss of this magnitude. We know that this pregnancy is dangerous to begin with but I am willing to risk everything to give this little one life. What if despite all my efforts he died anyway? It was a thought that I tried hard to push from my mind.
About 20 minutes into the second hour of trying to get this little one to move I felt a kick. I pushed on him and he kicked again. They were gentle kicks but they were kicks. I let out my breath and started to cry tears of joy instead of tears of fear. I prayed prayers of thanksgiving. As I lay there he began to kick more vigorously and I finally could feel that he was ok.
I couldn't begin to imagine how this day would have been forever changed if on the anniversary of losing Joseph I lost this baby too. It's unimagineable. I remember holding Joseph in my hands 3 years ago and wondering how I could ever get past his death. It's not that I have it's just that I have figured out ways to deal with it better than before, just as I have figured out ways to deal with all our losses. But to think of what this day could have been is just overwhelming. My heart cries out for my lost babies but it also cries out for joy that this little one is doing well.
While I lay there worrying about this baby I prayed that his brothers and sisters in heaven would come to him to stir him awake for me. I have no idea if that is what happened but I like to think they are looking out for not only this baby but for all of us. It helps me to keep them close to me thinking that they are always here and always loving us. If I can't hold them in my arms then the best I can do is hold them always in my heart and in my memories. One day I hope that I can tell this baby about this day and how his brother woke him from his sleep to settle my worried heart.