Image by massdistraction via Flickr
Eleven years ago yesterday, I woke up in the middle of the night with the gut feeling that my baby had died.
One week before, we had a successful ultrasound. The baby was healthy and thriving. Its little heart was beating fast and we were ecstatic.
I remember waking up my husband and telling him that I knew the baby had died. I had the urgency of picking up a name: for a boy, José Luis; for a girl, Carlota.
He told me to make an appointment for another ultrasound as soon as the doctor was open, and so I did. At 1:00 pm, we found out that our baby had died. She measured exactly the gestational age she was supposed to be.
In a blur, I went home and packed, and my husband made reservation to fly as soon as possible to our US doctor.
Today, eleven years ago, our worst nightmare was confirmed: our baby died. She had a neurotubal defect that claimed her life.
We spent together the next 20 days. I was not ready to let her go, even though I knew she was already gone. During those days, we had so many tests and exams done, that most of our time was spent at the hospital.
Finally, on December 22, I decided to have surgery to end my pregnancy.
I never got to see her or hold her. Her little body did not survive spending 20 days dead, nor the surgery.
We later found that she was a girl: thus Carlota was named.
Nobody remembered her yesterday, except me and my MISS friends. I am used now to the forgetfulness around me.
My body remembered in a not-so-funny way. I came down with bronchitis and laryngitis a week ago. Our bodies always remember those horrible, tragic moments, even if our minds try to block it out.
Eleven years ago, I was sure I would not survive the pain and sorrow of loosing my baby girl and her brother and sister, in less than 2 years. I thought I would die of sadness....
... Eleven years later, I am a survivor. I enjoy life -most of the time- to be honest. I love those three children that were given to me to be raised, they feel my life with joy and wonder. I love my husband more than I did back then. I am honored to have known so many wonderful children, whose lives ended before their time, through their loving parents' eyes.
Sweet girl, you will always, always be loved and MISSed. No matter how long I live, I will always remember you. Thank you for choosing me to be your mommy, you and your siblings have been the greatest teachers one could hope for.