Love Lost

I heard it thousands of times while I was pregnant with Lorenzo. I assume it was because I was a miserable pregnant woman. I still feel ashamed for the faces I gave coworkers when they asked if I was able to put an IV in or place a special NG tube into their patients (both are things I am specially trained to do). 

It will be worth it. I suppose they meant the misery would be worth it when he was no longer destroying my insides. I couldn't sit at work for the last 2 months of my pregnancy. I had a donut pillow to attempt to make me comfortable. It failed. But they were right. It was totally worth it. When I saw him through the plastic sheet in the OR, my heart grew. It practically exploded. I hadn't even held him yet and I could already feel my heart love him. I imagine my heart did the same thing it did at the end of the movie for the Grinch. It grew 3 sizes, right? 

That positive pregnancy test had me dreaming of that same moment happening again. This time it would be the week of Christmas. Not the most ideal time in my mind but none the less Lorenzo would have a sibling. I spent 2 weeks dreaming of what life would look like with 2 kiddos and I was so excited. I was able to give my husband the best 30th birthday surprise. He was over the moon. Due to my current working conditions, many people were informed that I was with child. Too many. 

It was always in the back of my head, that I could lose the baby, but never did I think that it would happen to me. You never think it will happen to you. I thought I was healthy (yes despite my diabetes and thyroid condition). I was able to carry Lorenzo to term and he didn't even need the NICU (common in babies born from diabetic mothers). So, while I knew it was early, my heart fell. It fell in love with the thoughts, the hopes, the dreams. 

While it was in the back of my head, I didn't think it would happen to me. I think most women believe it won't happen to them. Or maybe we all just hope and pray it won't happen to us. The reality is 1 in 4 will have a miscarriage. I believe that's what my OB told me anyway. But you know what shame on women for not speaking about it. Shame on us for hiding in a hole and blaming ourselves for not drinking enough water or drinking too much caffeine, etc. I felt all the feels. What if mi LOBO was the only miracle I would get with my diabetes? What if I would never feel another kick from within? I was a mess, but I did what women do and I pulled up my bootstraps and went to work. You read that right. The day after my miscarriage I went to work. What was I thinking? Well, I will tell you, I was thinking that I do better staying busy. 

It turned out to be an amazing weekend at work. I was honored to work alongside my younger sister (I was relocated during pregnancy because of the pandemic). It filled me with pride to watch her in her element and share a few laughs along the way. I was also touched by an angel that weekend. I got to talk with someone who understood my grief and gave some great advice. Take time away from work. Take time to grieve. Take care of yourself. Don't be a hero because one day it'll catch up to you and you will still have to deal with the pain. The pain will just be accompanied by exhaustion by then. Take time. 

So that's exactly what I did. The following weekend, I took time. It was perfect. 

I do believe it was going to be another boy. He will always be my baby number 2. And if it weren't for writing this, I don't know that many would know about baby number 2, but I promise that I will talk about it. I promise that I will be there for the next woman that this happens to. We have to empower each other, build each other up and not let anyone feel ashamed for the loss of love because ultimately, I believe that God has a plan. He's already showed me parts to his plan.