When I was a kid, and honestly, up until I turned 24, my birthday was my favorite holiday. Ask anyone I know- especially my parents and siblings. They were annoyed by the time my birthday rolled around (and rightfully so) because I started reminding them of the upcoming “holiday” MONTHS in advance. “Hey mom, my birthday is in 5 months!” That would be the January 1st text, and so on, until the day finally arrived.
June 1st was my 27th birthday. It was also the one year anniversary of my miscarriage, which I just like to refer to it as Isaac’s birthday. That’s what we named our baby – Isaac Gabriel. The name wasn’t on our list of baby names, but when I heard the meanings, I knew that was his name.
Isaac – laughter; Gabriel – God is my strength. In my mind, I have this image of him running around, smiling and waiting for us in heaven. One day, our whole family will reunite and our sons will meet each other. Until then, we will enjoy this boy who is due in 6 weeks, and have the hope that Isaac is laughing with Jesus.
We technically didn’t have confirmation of gender, since I was only 10 weeks along, but I had dreams that he was a boy, and we stuck with mama’s instinct. With this current pregnancy, I also had dreams of having a boy, and at 20 weeks it was confirmed that I was right. So on that note, I am pretty trusting of my gut instinct.
Birthdays just seem like the perfect time to reflect over the past year. And to be honest, 26 was awful. I’m sure there were some good moments, but in between the miscarriage, being diagnosed with PTSD because of it, and throwing up for 21 weeks of this current pregnancy, it didn’t exactly measure up to the year I had imagined and hoped it would be.
What this year did do for me – it taught me to rely on people, and that being stubborn and suffering alone is worse than asking for help. I learned that my husband is actually the best. I learned that Gremlin, my dog, does not leave my side for one second when I am sad. I learned that Jesus really doesn’t give up on people, even when you beg him to just leave you alone. I learned that crying does not make you weak. I learned who the people are that truly care, and I learned about the people who don’t. I learned that sometimes it takes a whole lot of suffering to appreciate the good things, and that sometimes there is no rhyme or reason to suffering – sometimes crappy things just happen because they happen and there is nothing to blame other than the fact that we are humans.
This photo is why I keep getting out of bed in the morning, it’s why I continue to carry on even when I’m sad about our loss. We are due to have our boy in about 6 weeks, and lets be honest, at this point, I am hoping to go into labour tomorrow. I AM SO UNCOMFORTABLE. Really, people keep saying that I look “amazing” and, while my hair has been having some seriously good moments this pregnancy, I mostly just feel like a whale who can’t move without crying in pain or shuffling around like that old person who you have to walk behind at the mall when you’re in a hurry. I am now that person… Sorry. In any case, our world is about to be seriously rocked, and I could not be more excited and terrified.