Two Doors

It is heartbreaking to me that right now somewhere in the world a woman is waiting for her 20 week ultrasound and will find out there is no heartbeat, a woman can't feel her baby kick and finds out her baby will be stillborn, or that a woman begins to spot and finds out she is miscarrying.  On the flip side, there is a woman who will find out her baby is a boy and has a strong heartbeat, or that her baby was just sleeping but is still alive and well, or that the spotting is nothing to worry about and she will deliver a healthy baby.  It seems unfair to have two doors, one which will bring you the greatest amount of happiness and the other the greatest about of despair.

I've been both women.

I had a pregnancy, which was problem free and easy (except for some painful gallstone attacks). I had the natural labor and delivery I wanted and at the end I held my beautiful baby girl.  I was empowered by the experience and changed in becoming a mother.  I never knew the instant bond and love would begin the moment I laid eyes on her. 

I've also been the women who found out at 19 weeks there was no heartbeat.  I was so excited to be pregnant again and every week went on uneventful and problem free.  I was so moved by my birth experience with Natalie, that I wanted my second delivery to be photographed by a professional photographer. Some people looked at me strangely when I told them this, but for me I wanted that raw emotion of love and happiness captured so that the memory of that day could be relived just by looking at the photo. Of course, things turned out very differently and instead of the anticipation of a live crying baby in the delivery room, we waited for our tiny lifeless baby to be born.

I hoped that I would never have to live the horror of the second door.  The one that leads to sorrow and heartbreak and not knowing if the door to happiness will ever open again.  But having lived through an amazing birth experience, which brought me my daughter, I know how awesome the first door can be and have to believe that I will get to experience it again. It is the moment, when my next child cries for the first time and is laid on my chest and stares into my eyes, that keeps me going.  It is what gives me hope through the difficult days and strength in wanting to be pregnant again.  I know that very moment will be *even* more amazing because I'll know how fortunate I am to be there. I only wish I could have had that with Oliver.


I wish that the door leading to pain, tragedy and unfairness didn't exist in the world, but I'm beginning to believe that is it required to open up our eyes to the frailty of life and the ability to be truly grateful to the door which leads to happiness and bliss.  I obviously never wanted to lose my son to feel complete sorrow and despair, but I feel stronger for having experienced both ends of the spectrum.  Some days it's not easy to do, but I feel I can only move forward being thankful for both experiences, the birth of Natalie and the birth of Oliver, and use them to find peace in whatever door comes my way.