Today marks the one year anniversary that my second pregnancy ended in a miscarriage. Our second chance at hope, building a family and moving on after we lost sweet precious Ava came crashing down on us like a thunderous hammer of hate.
I remember sitting in the emergency room crying while trying to understand what I must have done in my life to deserve carrying such a heavy burden of death, heartache and tragedy when suddenly, a woman came up to me, opened my hands and delicately draped a pink rosary between my fingers. Holding my hands in hers, she looked me right in the eye and told me that one day I would have many many children, and then folded my hands around her prayer beads and left.
The first emotion that coursed through my body as I stared down at the decades of Aves in my hands was anger that a complete stranger tried to push her religion onto me while I was feeling so weak and vulnerable because for me, the vibrations of the universe that fulfill my spiritual need do not fit into a neat and tidy box that can be labeled Christianity, or Hinduism, or Taoism, or what have you. My definition of spirituality is one that is constantly changing and evolving as I grow and change with the various experiences life tosses my way. It is a personal journey that I am able to mold, analyze, reshape, define and follow in a way that feeds my soul with the things that fulfill me without being bound by the teachings of one particular religion. I couldn’t help but feel like I should be on the defensive when it seemed that the way I chose to lead my life brought me nothing but empty arms and sadness.
I realize now that her intentions were pure, and she was only trying to help me during a time of crisis. It still eludes me to this day how she knew I was miscarrying though. I wasn’t far enough along in the pregnancy to show the world a gloriously rotund belly signaling life inside of me. Even though I am far from the praying kind, the experience of her hands clasped around mine, while she shared with me a piece of her, and something that brings her meaning and hope in life has not been forgotten. To this day, I carry that pink rosary with me everywhere I go, like it has a strange magical power that keeps my third chance at life, my little Nate, safe from the evil perils that swooped down and tore my life to pieces when I was without it.
Superstitious, perhaps, but with it Nate has survived long along to exhibit male pattern baldness and this:
Sometimes people come into our lives and disappear in the blink of an eye right when we need them. Some would say a angel, some would say coincidence. Does it matter? She was there and you needed her.
The one phrase that I use that has pulled me through some rough spots in my life is that "everything happens for a reason". Whether it feels like it at the time or not, the reason behind it always becomes clearer later down the road.
I'm happy for you that your life has continued to evolve in a way that has allowed you to have Nate in your life. And from the outside, I can only think that you are a better mother to him because of the pain that you endured with Ava and the miscarriage last year.
So here's to a year with more experience under your belt and a beautiful baby in your arms.
I never thought I could feel so strongly for someone I've never met, but it puts tears in my eyes to see your joys in these little videos and feel your pains when you recall the memories. Lisa is right, everything happens for a reason, even if we will never know what that reason is. The events of the past will affect your actions of the future, even if only in the slightest of ways. I am so glad that you have little Nate, you deserve so much happiness.
I had an experience in the hospital when I misscarried. My roommate (an irritating woman who was NO angel) said out of the blue, 'you will be back in a year, I promise you'.
A year to the DAY that I miscarried, I brought my son home from the hospital.
It's funny that when she said it, I got that creepy-crawly feeling so strongly that I never have forgetten it.
Since my miscarrage was caused by a problem requiring me to have vials of blood drawn every week for months and months I was NOT to get pregnant for a year after my blood came back good.
I was three months pregnant, yet my doctor kept telling me my symptoms were all in my head. My 'symptom' is now a 26 year old man.
Even though I am a Christian, I am not of the variety that boxes up God and tries to squirt him around at will. I'm all for mystery, and God certainly used that irritating woman to give me a message. Good thing, as it gives me hope that he can also use an irritating woman like me.
My initial reaction to people telling you in light of an unfathomable tragedy like you losing your beautiful girl and then miscarrying "that everything happens for a reason" was anger. It just sounds so trite. What possible purpose could it have served?
But then I thought, look how many people you have helped and will help by your honest reaching out with this blog. Unfortunately we'll all deal with tragedy in our lives, so I suppose it's what you do with it to keep on moving forward.
Me : March 02, 2007 
