Today has really made me think about where my life has taken me. January 13th 2011 I was at the doctor’s office waiting to see my baby on the ultrasound. Instead of seeing the baby however…I saw a tiny baby that no longer had a heartbeat. I remember sitting there staring at the screen waiting for the doctor to see something…anything that would give me some hope. Instead…I got a scheduled surgery. A surgery to take my baby away from me for good.
The next week was a whirlwind. I had my surgery, and curled up on the couch for 2 days. After those days I started to feel like something was wrong. I had an extreme fever, I felt weak, slightly delirious. My ex-husband took me to the hospital, where they discovered I had a nasty infection. My fever was 104.3 when I got there, and the pain was unbearable. They did an ultrasound and found that the doctor who did my surgery had messed up, but I was too unstable to go back in for surgery to fix it. I spent the next 2 days in and out of consciousness, with a fever that I couldn’t shake. I didn’t find out all of the details until last year when I was reviewing medical records with my current doctors. But during those two days, they almost lost me twice.
It was a hard week, full of heartbreak…not to mention extreme physical hardship. But here I sit 3 years later…surrounded by people that love me…and a truly amazing life. 3 years ago life was a lot different. I was in a marriage that neither my ex nor I was happy in. I was out of school, working way too hard…and I had no idea who I was as a person. I had a lot of crappy friends, my father was in jail, and to be honest…I had no future.
In those 3 years I’ve gotten divorced, I’ve lost my father, and I’ve finally truly found myself. I’ve gotten back into school, I’ve found a job that makes me really happy, and I’ve found friends that better me as a person instead of ones that hold me back.
I’m not sure exactly where I wanted this post to go. I started thinking about writing because I started thinking about all the places that my life has gone. I only started thinking about that journey because I was thinking about my baby, and all of the other babies I’ve lost over the years. That sounds bad, but the truth is…I’ve been pregnant many times. And every time it has ended in extreme heartbreak…and not only for me.
I can truly say, that for the first time…well…ever…I’m happy with almost every aspect of my life. Don’t get me wrong, I miss my babies, I miss Nick when he’s gone…hell I miss my mom every day too. But I’m happy. I’ve found this inner peace with the things that have happened, and I’ve accepted why they’ve happened. I’m not holding my babies today, and that hurts. Nick isn’t here when I wish he was…and that hurts too. My mom lives far away, and sometimes that’s hard to deal with. But I have come to find a peace through everything.
I was abused. For 15 years I was abused physically and emotionally…my father dragged me through the dirt over and over again. He made me feel like I wasn’t a person, and that my life would never mean anything. The bruises, the cuts, and most of the scars healed…but the emotional ones didn’t. Losing my children broke my heart more than anything ever has. Being told one minute that you’re about to be a parent…just to find out a few months later that your child has been ripped out of your hands…is a knife to the chest that I can’t begin to explain.
I’ve been to 4 colleges…I’ve lost 3 pregnancies in their late stages…I’ve been in 2 serious relationships…but for the one and only time…I’ve found me. I’ve found this life that I can be proud of. I’ve found a man that loves me now, and will forever. I’ve learned how amazing my mom is, and how strong she has been over the years. I’ve found a way to honor my dad’s memory in a positive way, instead of falling apart in a way that hurts and scares other people.
It’s hard for me to write sometimes for two reasons. 1- things seem so good that I wonder what I have to write about. And 2- I don’t want to bring up the things that aren’t so good…the things that brought me to where I am. It’s not because they don’t exist…it’s just because everything is going well and I don’t want to dwell on the negative in my past.
But the fact is…all of the things that have happened…have made me who I am. And I don’t say that as some cliché. I can literally say that without my father being completely insane and tormenting me…I wouldn’t have taken the chances I did in my life. Without my mom being a solid rock throughout my life and teaching me to fight…I would have given into drugs and a horrible life years ago. Without my failed marriage…I wouldn’t be in the amazing relationship I’m in now…and even if I was I certainly wouldn’t have appreciated it. Without losing my babies…I wouldn’t have the chance that I have now…
The chance to start over. The chance to learn from my past mistakes. The chance to have this new amazing life with the first man that saw me for exactly who I am. Not to mention a man that loves me for just how completely insane I am.
I’m not perfect. Holy hell…I’m a complete disaster in so many ways. I say stupid things, I make split decisions, and sometimes I make choices that are completely ridiculous. But doing those things for the last few years has really put me in a good place. I’ve never felt quite so rounded, or quite so happy.
And I have to say…I give a lot of that credit to my angels. I lit a candle tonight in their memory. There’s a reason they aren’t here with me…and as horrible as this may sound…maybe it’s because God knew their mommy needed some extra guidance over the years. Because let’s be honest…I can use all the angels I can get.