Mayra

On May 20, 2003, I took a pregnancy test because my body had been feeling very different in the past couple of days. I was tired, sore (breast tenderness), just overall different, and I knew I was pregnant. Sure enough, the home pregnancy test came out positive. The little pink line was light, but I knew it was positive because my husband Raul and I have been trying and until then every test had been negative. The light pink line on this test was clear enough for me. I immediately went to a pregnancy center to get a confirmation and was told I was indeed pregnant! I was so excited. This was my first, and Raul and I have been married almost a year. Although Raul had wanted a child right away, I had been afraid of becoming a mommy and had told him I wasn’t ready yet. But when I learned I was going to become a mommy I was the happiest girl on this Earth. Raul came home that evening from work and asked me how my day was. I told him I was more than good, and I asked him if he was ready to become a Daddy. He gave me a look as though he knew exactly what I was talking about! I wasn’t ready to tell anyone else until after my first appointment and everything was OK, so we had our own little secret.

On May 25 we were in church. Raul was in the sanctuary as the service began, and I was taking my Sunday school class on a “potty break.” I wasn’t feeling right, so I went into a stall and found I was bleeding badly. I told my assistant that I was pregnant and bleeding, and she rushed out to get my husband. We rushed to the emergency room. My assistant then told the pastor’s wife, who went to the pulpit and told the pastor what had happened. He announced it to the entire congregation and took a moment to have them all pray for me. Remember, I hadn’t told anyone that I was pregnant, so here we were in the emergency room waiting to be seen and suddenly everyone from my church shows up. They were all excited to find out I was pregnant but also very upset that I might be miscarrying.

By the time the hospital got me into a room, it was 1 pm. I had been in the waiting room for 2 hours. They took blood work and an hour later came in and confirmed I was 6 weeks pregnant. After another hour passed, they told me I needed to have an ultrasound. Afterward I returned to my room for more waiting. I didn’t have my D&C until about 10 pm that night, and later I was released. Like many others, I felt completely empty after the surgery. I wasn’t in any kind of physical pain, but I had so many emotions. I was sad, mad, and confused. I didn’t want to go on without my baby. I cried every minute of every day, and still today I cry! It was about 2 days after the D&C that I cried to Raul and told him that I wanted my baby back. He then told me, with as much compassion as he could, that “the baby wasn’t yours, it belongs to God, and he took her (I was sure she was a girl and had already named her Nevaeh, which is heaven spelled backward) to be with Him. It’s in her name.” Part of me was upset that he had said that, and yet I realized that he was right. Everything that we are given is exactly that: given to us by God. Nothing is ours. We all take that for granted. So I now know that she is in heaven, and I will one day see her again.

But here on Earth, I still hurt. Every time we drive by the hospital (we pass it on our way to church four times a week), I feel like it was yesterday. I constantly got my blood work done, and my levels kept going up. I started chemotherapy 2 weeks later, and that was a nightmare! One day I am pregnant, the next I lose her, and then the next I have cancer! I had 12 treatments until I was considered healed. My last dose was on August 8, 2003. That was a victory for me. I thank God I made it through with everything going as planned! Today it’s November 21, 2003, and my blood tests still show I’m good. I can’t wait for 9 more months to go before I get the OK to try again. I am going to have a new appreciation for my life, husband, children, and my future. God never gives us more than we can bear, and He always goes through our trials right along with us. With God, we’re never alone!

UPDATE: MAY 2007

I again became pregnant and gave birth to the most beautiful little boy on December 15, 2004, but that was not easy either. I was told when I had my molar pregnancy that I do not have a normal uterus. It is shaped differently, which could cause premature labor or miscarriage. But I beat that too! I went full-term with my son. However, during labor, my placenta ruptured, causing my son to lose oxygen. I was rushed in for an emergency c-section, and my son had to be resuscitated. He spent his first day in the intensive care nursery. Despite all that, he is here, intelligent, beautiful, and now 2 years old.

A few months after that, I was pregnant again and miscarried. This was not a mole, but a “regular” miscarriage. In spring of 2006 I found out that I was again pregnant. My husband and I were having a little girl! My son was so excited to be a big brother and rubbed my belly and kissed it almost every night.

On November 29, 2006, I was on my way to drop off my son at the sitters, just as I do every morning before work. But on this morning, I had a doctor’s appointment to schedule our c-section. I was blinded by the sun while driving and got into a car accident. My son and I were taken to the trauma unit and were given CT scans. He was OK (this is why our children belong in car seats!) and I was OK, but my daughter didn’t make it. The blunt force caused my placenta to rupture again, and she lost oxygen too quickly. She was delivered stillborn.

I eventually went back to work, and I have clients who ask how my little girl is doing. With a smile I tell them that she is perfect; she is (as my son says) playing on stars with the angels and with Jesus. Although I miss her so much that it physically hurts, I know my little girl is happy and safe. She never felt the pain of her first breath. She will never feel sadness, anger, or the pain that we feel here. She will never know disappointment or feel consequences. I have a God who spares the righteous, and I will see her again. She will be next to Jesus waiting for me with open arms.

In the meantime, I have to remember that I am still a mother on Earth and in Heaven, so my job is not done. Yes, I want my little girl here, but my son needs me to be strong for him and for my husband. It’s not only about me. We all lost her. I just wanted to write this to let everyone know that life happens, fair or unfair, and we may not have all of the answers, but I have a hope, a faith, and a God who carries me through the storms of life. God knows how I feel, because He gave up His only son to go through torture and death so that I, my daughter, and everyone that believes in Him shall have everlasting life.

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