Sad Stories Are Not Over Yet, Part II

Back in 2009, I found out I was pregnant, and Chris and I were very excited.  We told everybody too soon and I miscarried four days later.  It was very sad and I have had a lot of thoughts about that over the last couple years, but one thought is particularly persistent and I think I’ll have to share it to get over it.

Beware—this is ridiculous.

This is like when I was diagnosed with diabetes in Turkey.  I was just out of the hospital and thinking about the different tasty things that were out of my life forever when the worst thought ever occurred to me: I would have to start carrying a purse.  That was seriously the most upsetting thing to me about being diabetic.

So right off the bat, Chris and I started calling people and making pregnancy plans.  The baby would be due in February and he wanted to get married before that.  We thought we could pull it off in September and I got this great idea.  I called Dad and he said he was up for it, but then everything changed and if I did it now it would just be sad, so my only option is to just tell you about it.

My idea was to have Dad fly up to Reno and he, Chris and I would go up to Virginia City to get some of those Old West pictures taken.  We’d all dress up and the setting would be a shotgun wedding.  Wouldn’t that have made the funniest wedding announcement ever?  Well, I think it’s hysterical.  Think about the silly expressions we could have made!

Like I said the other day, some stories are sad because they aren’t over yet.  I may not have a biological child in my future, but ALL the TIME I get confirmation from the Universe that it was just not meant to be and that my energy is not at all wasted on Ant.  I read so many things about how kids will always be like their biological parents, even if they have never been around each other.  It was so depressing to think that I would put all this time and care into him—not that it would be worthless, but that it wouldn’t matter?  I don’t know.  But now I can see where I show up in him and it is so neat to watch.  He is a good kid regardless, but he is also a good kid because of me, and I am extraordinarily proud of that.  Could I have given him as much as I have with a baby?  Maybe, but in my gut I don’t think so.

Goodbye, baby Seren.  See you next lifetime.