Good Things Will Come

It was never a question for me whether I wanted him. I already had a sweet baby girl who I adored and loved so much, but I could tell something was missing from our family. Pregnancy proved to be very difficult for me, but I was ready and willing to make the sacrifice. It just seemed right- our family needed this little soul.

It didn’t take long before I started getting the first signs of pregnancy. I was overjoyed, everything was going according to plan, the timing was just right. The initial joy is always wonderful, but it hit me like a truckload at week 6. I was so nauseous I could barely get off the couch. Eating was a chore, I couldn’t even escape the sickness while I was asleep. My little 1 year old daughter was full of energy and wanted to wander and explore, but I couldn’t even walk. I was lucky to have a good support system through all the hard initial pregnancy stuff. People would take my little daughter while I rolled around, making a permanent crease in my bed feeling miserable and counting down the days. At the time it felt like it would never end.

At 20 weeks, I went in for my anatomy ultrasound. I was so excited. Because I struggled with sickness, I felt like the growth and development of my baby gave me strength to carry on. I was ready to cling to that strength as I saw and heard my baby. 

I will never forget that sweet ultrasound tech. She did the scans of his head, his stomach, fingers, feet, the heart, then all of his organs. She suddenly paused, and starting measuring this white blob in the placenta. She scanned it over and over and took tons of measurements. She was calm but she was all the sudden quiet. I could tell this something wasn’t part of the baby and something that concerned her. My doctor took a look and tried to reassure me as it required further testing and a visit to other medical professionals, but the wait for answers was a long, hard road. The sickness did not subside, and I didn’t know what that last ultrasound meant for me or for my baby. 

I spent a lot of time crying. My anxiety spiraled out of control. This pregnancy was supposed to bring me completeness and joy, and instead it made me feel broken and miserable. 

I will never forget the day that Harvey was born. I was anxious because I still didn’t have all the answers. The moment he was delivered and set in my arms, my anxiety melted. Every second of my sick pregnancy, the unknowns, the hurt, flashed before my eyes, and I knew I would do it all over again for him. I had just experienced one of the hardest mental and physical trials life, but there he was staring back at me with his perfect eyes. I finally found it; the completeness and the joy, it flooded within me. 

I know that not every story similar to mine turns out with a happy ending, but the miracle of bringing life is a powerful, spiritual experience. One that I know will bring you peace and overwhelming love despite the outcome. The life you sparked and introduced into your life, somehow outshines the hard you had (and will have) to endure. You might not see yet, but it will come. Just like my Harvey came.