My darling child,
The day your Daddy and I found out that we were pregnant was not exactly how I thought it'd go. You see, your Aunt Tiffany and I wanted desperately for her to pee on a stick so that we could find out as soon as possible but your Daddy was against that idea. He was vehemently against the idea because he wanted to be able to hold on to the idea of you for as long as possible, pregnant until proven otherwise. But he eventually was on board with us, so 5 days after the transfer, we showed up at your Aunt Tiffany's house at 6:30 in the morning, two pregnancy tests in hand.
Before she peed, we watched Uncle Craig give Aunt Tiffany her morning shot of Progesterone. (That reminds me, have you called your Aunt Tiffany lately?! You better, because she gave herself more than 100 shots to help bring you here!) After her shot, she went to the restroom and peed on the stick and we began waiting, leaving the stick in the bathroom so we wouldn't peek too early. We even waited a couple of extra minutes just to give that second line plenty of time to show up. Finally, your Uncle Craig volunteered to go get it. He placed it on the bed and all four of us crowded around, anxiously waiting to see the results.
Not pregnant.
If anyone was too upset, they didn't show it. We knew that testing this early was wishful thinking, so logically, we knew we'd just have to try again tomorrow. We went downstairs and your Daddy cut your Uncle Craig's hair while your Aunt Tiffany and I ate some breakfast and talked. I kept peeking at the test, hoping that something would change, but it hadn't. I was getting antsy. I decided I should go outside for some fresh air.
I paced and paced and paced. What if the transfer had been unsuccessful? How soon could we try again? We only have one egg left - will that one work? Maybe Daddy was right. Maybe we shouldn't have done this. I had secretly swiped the pee test and pulled it out of my pocket to look again. I held it up to the sun, tilted it to a 73 degree angle, squinted one eye and held my breath.
I saw the faintest pink line in the history of all lines.
Surely I'm imagining this. I took it inside to show everyone else, but the line was gone. No one could see it! Daddy was still cutting Uncle Craig's hair so I took Aunt Tiffany outside to see and she saw it too! Daddy and Uncle Craig rushed out and confirmed it. We were pregnant. We were all very excited, but to be honest, I was slightly disappointed that it hadn't been a BIG moment. All the, "is there a line? No? Yes? Maybe? Kind of?" had taken some of the magic out of it. (Pappy likes a little drama if you haven't noticed).
Fast forward a few weeks - "I am bleeding a bit today." Aunt Tiffany's text gave me a small heart attack, but I knew that this was common and didn't necessarily mean disaster. Six hours later though, the bleeding had gotten worse and she was beginning to pass small blood clots. Now I was scared. I went out to my truck and left a message for Dr. Chuong. I let myself think too hard about it and began praying through my sobs. Please God, let my baby be okay.
Dr. Chuong suggested we go to the emergency room, so I immediately left work, picked up Daddy, then drove to Aunt Tiffany's. We all spoke positively, but there was an undeniable air of sadness and worry in the drive there. We waited to be called back, and during that wait I was reminded of why we chose your Aunt Tiffany in the first place. Her presence brought me and your Daddy so much comfort and peace. I had a feeling it would all turn out just fine
After some blood tests and an ultrasound, the emergency room doctor came in and broke the news. The gestational sac was empty. There was a large hemorrhage in her uterus. You were gone.
Shock quickly turned to sadness. Daddy left the room and I knew why. He didn't want anyone to see him cry. I didn't know what to do. I wanted to comfort Daddy, but I didn't wanted to leave Aunt Tiffany alone. She was the one physically having the miscarriage after all and she needed support too. But it was our baby that had just been lost and I needed to cry with Daddy, but I didn't want Aunt Tiffany to see us cry because I didn't want her to feel guilty, like she was the cause of our sadness. So I hugged her, said something I don't remember, and went to find Daddy. I found him outside on a bench. We sat on the bench and cried and cried and cried. Not our baby. Not our baby.
When we went back in the room, we all tried to stay positive. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe the ultrasound tech sucks at her job. Maybe it's too early. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.
Whether Daddy and Aunt Tiffany believed what we were saying, I don't know. But I didn't. I was too hurt to be positive, but I wasn't going to admit that to them. I knew I needed to begin wrestling with the idea that you were gone.
The next day, we had a follow up appointment with Dr. Chuong. Daddy and Aunt Tiffany were still so positive and I played along so I wouldn't be a jerk. We went in the ultrasound room, and he turned on the screen. He searched the black and white screen for what seemed like an eternity, and said nothing.
I don't remember what he said finally first. It's all a blur, even though it was just this morning. But he pointed to the screen and said, "There's your baby." I began sobbing immediately. My baby! My baby! Thanks be to God!
He kept talking and moving the screen. I was too emotional to understand what was happening or what he was doing. He stopped again and said, "There's your other baby."
And so I had it. I wanted my BIG moment, and boy, did I get it. That was twelve hours ago, and me and Daddy are still wearing our big cheesy teary-eyed grins.
We love you to the Moon and back,
Pappy and Daddy
