One year ago from this last Tuesday, was the day that Chris showed up at my school door after work and told me we were miscarrying our first pregnancy.
That day, and the following few days, were the hardest of my life.
When I look back, I can very clearly remember each horrible moment of those first few days.
I don't wish that feeling on anyone, and yet I realize it is sadly quite common.
Oddly enough, the days leading up to this anniversary were harder than the anniversary itself. I could remember how excited we were to find out we were really pregnant sitting in the REI Starbucks...going to the Rockies/Cardinals game wanting to eat nothing but jalapeno nachos...being giddy with excitement at our little secret...
On Tuesday, I honestly didn't even notice the date pass. Instead I was in St. Louis, knocked to the ground with a fever, flu symptoms, and an infection from breast feeding. I spent most of the day rotating between sleeping, whining, feeding JJ, and trying to coordinate care with our health care in a state that doesn't have the plan. We spent the evening in Urgent Care.
It was only yesterday on the 14 hour drive home through Missouri and Kansas did I actually have time to figure out what the date was. Looking back, I've never been happier to have a raging body infection because it means that I, in fact, have a baby.
This time last year was filled with discussions between Chris and I about whether we wanted to keep going through all of the crazy fertility treatments to try to get pregnant. We were emotionally warn down after three years of trying and not sure we wanted to keep going through with it -- at least for a while.
Luckily we decided to keep trying until the end of the year, then we'd stop for a while.
The last try produced my most wonderful gift...
And I couldn't possibly love him more.
As I watch him sleep next to me tonight, I am grateful for every moment that led up to getting him, no matter how hard some of those moments were.
Ah, the difference one year can make... check out those smiles!