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  • A week or so before Thanksgiving I found out I was expecting!!! I was... we were - OVERJOYED!

    I wanted to tell everyone - but knew I needed to tell my Mom first and was a little hesitant about it. After all, Matt and I aren't married - and even though that doesn't matter to us - it matters to HER.

    We needn't have worried because she was super excited by the prospect of a new little one to love on. She had just told a friend earlier that week that there would be no more babies for her family until her grand-babies had babies which would hopefully be a long way off.

    I was so thankful to be given another opportunity to participate in bringing something special into this world. It was difficult to wrap my head around the knowledge that I'd have an ELEVEN year old by the time this little one was here. I couldn't believe that I was going to be one of THOSE people. :) But I didn't care. I loved being pregnant and I was just... thrilled.

    The day I found out I was pregnant my breasts had just begun to be tender. That and the exhaustion was what I remembered most about the early weeks of my pregnancy with Taylor. My stomach had already begun to be tight and I couldn't "suck it in" anymore. Matt was so precious. He would rub on my tummy and smile up at me adoringly. He'd never wanted a baby before.

    I had a doctor's appointment scheduled and a tentative due date of July 24th. A summer baby. I didn't care that that meant I would be HUGE during some of the hottest months in the year - which is REALLY saying something for Florida... It was perfect.

    A few weeks after Thanksgiving I realized that my breasts were no longer sore. I googled that situation and found that each pregnancy is different and found several posts about women who had the same thing happen - not as much breast soreness the second go round. I tried not to worry about it.

    I went for a walk around the beautiful lake at my work with my best good friend, Nadara. When I got back and went to the bathroom I had some very light spotting. I googled that, too. It's NORMAL! It happens a lot. Some ladies spot through their entire pregnancy... I tried to worry less.

    I began to think about the medications I had been taking about a month earlier -- some heavy stuff. On our trip back from Washington, D.C. I had pulled some muscles in my neck and shoulder carrying my bag around the airport all day. Muscle relaxers, Lortab, Ibuprofen... I told myself that the baby had been protected while I had taken that stuff - it shouldn't have harmed it. But I was still concerned. My sister and I even joked about me giving birth to a baby with a tail because of all the medicine I had been given.

    I didn't stop spotting.

    At the scheduled doctor's appointment they were able to do a sonogram first because I was deeply concerned that I was miscarrying this child that we wanted so badly. The sonogram confirmed that "it" was on it's way out.

    The doctor said that we could wait and let my body do what it's already started to do and miscarry naturally. That's what I wanted to do.

    After almost a week and a trip to Urgent Care - I had still not passed everything that I was supposed to pass.

    This past Tuesday I had to go in for a D & C. The anxiety leading up to the procedure was worse than the procedure itself. I was very sad - but am thankful that it is over - complete. That I am not in pain anymore and not waiting to pass more stuff. It's over.

    Since this happened I've been thinking a lot about what the difference is between a "baby" and a "fetus."

    I am "Pro-Choice." I am. I know this goes against my "Christian" upbringing - but I believe that a woman has the right to choose whether or not to have a baby. I'm not going to get into some big rant - it's not the purpose of this story. If a woman was as pregnant as I was and decided to NOT have her baby - I would support her decision. I wouldn't look down on her for terminating that pregnancy. I wouldn't judge her for not being "sad" that she was "ending a life." That is her decision and I would not mourn for that unborn child. I wouldn't.

    Why then was it so heartbreaking for me to lose the life growing inside of me?

    I believe it is the "wanting" that makes the difference. The wanting is what made it a "baby" - not a "fetus." I - WE - WANTED this baby. I could see our happy and exhausting future in this gift that the universe had given us.

    But if I have learned anything in my measly 33 years - it's that the universe is fickle; neither fully good, nor wholly bad - and sometimes it's an Indian Giver.

    My heart broke - but hearts are universally resilient and mine is no different.

    I am happy to say that Matt and I aren't devastated. We are stronger than ever - living in more love than we've ever known before. Taylor is fine and hopeful that a new baby will be in our future.

    Life goes on - and, for me, life is - still - so very sweet.
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