What I Want You to Know is a series of reader submissions. It is an attempt to allow people to tell their personal stories, in the hopes of bringing greater compassion to the unique issues each of us face. If you would like to submit a story to this series, click here. Today’s guest post is by Lindsey.
“I used to be in your tummy,” this little, sweet, 4-year old boy told me. “And you were so fat.”
I saw my life very differently from how it has turned out. I wanted to get married and have children. I wanted to plan a baby shower and set up a nursery. I often threw out names to my husband- baby names that I liked or that I thought he would consider. Month after month of trying, I would cry when my period came or when it was late but I got that negative sign on the pregnancy test.
It was early November, and I just *had a feeling*. I called my twin sister at the crack of dawn and made her take a pregnancy test with me, because I was just so sure this was it. We took our tests together. Mine had one line. Hers had two. I was ecstatic and heartbroken all at the same time. I was jealous. Me. Me. I had been waiting, trying…. Why not me???
Two months later, on January 12th, I woke up unusually early for the crazy, party night I had had the night before. My husband was out of town, leading the youth group to winter retreat, so I had met his cousins at a bar for some drinks and then my best friend picked me up and took me out for her birthday. I awoke to a phone call from my mom, who was concerned about me. I had seen a doctor, who had told me I had not ovulated that month, as told by a blood test. I was way overdue for my period, but still waiting, as my periods are often irregular. My mom convinced me to take a pregnancy test. I took it, mostly to get her off my back so I could go back to bed.
POSITIVE.
The test had two lines. Not one line- TWO lines. That has never happened to me before and the joy I felt was incredible. “I need to call my sister!!!” I exclaimed to my mom on the phone. That was my first thought. I need to call Emily. Emily needs to know! The day passed with telling my close friends and my husband and my parents driving in while I got a blood test at the hospital, which, indeed confirmed, I was pregnant! When my husband arrived home we called every family member possible and even visited his Grandmother to tell her. We were ecstatic. We planned names, schools, nursery colors, sports and extracurricular events.
Almost exactly two months later my mom came in town and picked me up for an ultrasound. The woman doing the ultrasound did not show me the screen. I didn’t care because I was so sure my baby was in my belly. We had talked. We had bonded. He had made me feel sick and sore. He was real. “You’ll need to go upstairs so the doctor can see you,” the ultrasound technician told me. I began to get dressed as my mom’s eyes filled with tears. I rolled my eyes as she gathered me in a hug. She was being ridiculous. The ultrasound technician had no clue. It was too early to see anything, but I could feel my baby.
I had a D&C the next day. On Valentine’s Day. To this day, almost two years later, it doesn’t feel real.
“I’m your baby right? You love me right?” my babies ask me daily. My babies were given life by another momma. My babies have different DNA than my husband and I. My babies are my life. I love them more than I love myself. I thank God every day that I am lucky enough to have three beautiful children in my life.
“I used to be in your tummy,” this little, sweet, 4-year old boy told me. “And you were so fat.” I don’t remember that, Baby, but if I could dream the best dream in the whole world, it would be having you in my tummy and being very fat.
I saw my life very differently from how it has turned out. I wanted to get married and have children. I wanted to plan a baby shower and set up a nursery. I often threw out names to my husband- baby names that I liked or that I thought he would consider. Month after month of trying, I would cry when my period came or when it was late but I got that negative sign on the pregnancy test.
It was early November, and I just *had a feeling*. I called my twin sister at the crack of dawn and made her take a pregnancy test with me, because I was just so sure this was it. We took our tests together. Mine had one line. Hers had two. I was ecstatic and heartbroken all at the same time. I was jealous. Me. Me. I had been waiting, trying…. Why not me???
Two months later, on January 12th, I woke up unusually early for the crazy, party night I had had the night before. My husband was out of town, leading the youth group to winter retreat, so I had met his cousins at a bar for some drinks and then my best friend picked me up and took me out for her birthday. I awoke to a phone call from my mom, who was concerned about me. I had seen a doctor, who had told me I had not ovulated that month, as told by a blood test. I was way overdue for my period, but still waiting, as my periods are often irregular. My mom convinced me to take a pregnancy test. I took it, mostly to get her off my back so I could go back to bed.
POSITIVE.
The test had two lines. Not one line- TWO lines. That has never happened to me before and the joy I felt was incredible. “I need to call my sister!!!” I exclaimed to my mom on the phone. That was my first thought. I need to call Emily. Emily needs to know! The day passed with telling my close friends and my husband and my parents driving in while I got a blood test at the hospital, which, indeed confirmed, I was pregnant! When my husband arrived home we called every family member possible and even visited his Grandmother to tell her. We were ecstatic. We planned names, schools, nursery colors, sports and extracurricular events.
Almost exactly two months later my mom came in town and picked me up for an ultrasound. The woman doing the ultrasound did not show me the screen. I didn’t care because I was so sure my baby was in my belly. We had talked. We had bonded. He had made me feel sick and sore. He was real. “You’ll need to go upstairs so the doctor can see you,” the ultrasound technician told me. I began to get dressed as my mom’s eyes filled with tears. I rolled my eyes as she gathered me in a hug. She was being ridiculous. The ultrasound technician had no clue. It was too early to see anything, but I could feel my baby.
I had a D&C the next day. On Valentine’s Day. To this day, almost two years later, it doesn’t feel real.
“I’m your baby right? You love me right?” my babies ask me daily. My babies were given life by another momma. My babies have different DNA than my husband and I. My babies are my life. I love them more than I love myself. I thank God every day that I am lucky enough to have three beautiful children in my life.
“I used to be in your tummy,” this little, sweet, 4-year old boy told me. “And you were so fat.” I don’t remember that, Baby, but if I could dream the best dream in the whole world, it would be having you in my tummy and being very fat.
