Exactly one year ago today I impulsively took a pregnancy test. I'd had a sneaking suspicion for a couple of days that I might be pregnant and right before we headed to Tulsa to watch the fireworks, I snuck to the bathroom to verify my suspicion. Surprisingly enough, it was actually positive. Riding to Tulsa was filled with mixed emotions. I was happy and scared and so worried about how it would affect our future. I had wanted a third child in the first few months after Lennon was born (wanted to know there was a third in our future not one right then), but I had come to terms that with our future goals and probably limited income even after getting into our careers (I mean, Chad plans to become a professor) that three children just wasn't something that we'd be able to manage. As I said, we were happy but also very unsure about our future and taken aback by how much our lives would be changing. There were just so many things to consider.
We told no one in our families. I had to talk to someone about it and the only person that I confided in was my best friend, Hannah, who has a baby the same age as Lennon and could fully understand how crazy I felt having a 9 month old and finding out I was pregnant. Chad and I planned to share the news with our families after Lennon's first birthday.
There was about a week where we were really filled with angst over it all. Then we really found our stride and realized that three was manageable and we found new ways to make this pregnancy and child special and part of our family. Chad decided that he would read a poem to the baby every night until s/he was born. He was also the only one that was going to find out the gender. I had been a control freak planner in the past and had always wanted to be surprised but never could handle not being fully prepared with clothes, etc. This time I was going to let him buy anything that we needed clothes wise. We'd even devised a system that I could still have an opinion on the clothes. We would look in both the boy and girl sections and then he would later purchase the outfit appropriate for the gender. We were both so excited about that arrangement. I got to have the surprise (with planning!) and he got to be the only one that knew. We also reveled in waiting to tell everyone. It was our little secret surprise. We called the baby Peppermint as a code word (originating from the Rugrats) for pregnant. It worked as a perfect name that transcended gender, too.
Chad had a week of vacation in August just before the Fall semester started and the timing worked out just right that our first ultrasound was going to be Wednesday of that week. We anxiously awaited the ultrasound just to finalize the reality we'd so recently come to terms with. We took the kids so that they could share this new mystery of our unexpected third baby. Then all of the initial fear and then joy of the previous 6 weeks came crashing down around us. The ultrasound revealed that Peppermint had stopped growing and died around 8 weeks and that I had a missed miscarriage. Missed, because my body allowed me to continue to feel pregnant and gave no signs otherwise. I had my D&C that Friday, the day I was to be exactly 10 weeks. I won't go into any more details about actually finding out that horrible news but it was just that, horrible. I still feel pain daily because of this loss.
Even now, I feel like all the air is sucked out of the room when I allow myself to think about it more than just passingly, which I don't often allow myself to do. I feel such an emptiness in my being and a weight on my chest. I was so wrapped up in it that the Fall was marred by awful depression and I had to reorient myself and set a new path so I hastily enrolled in school immediately before Christmas to start this past Spring. I suppose it is in part because I have such a love for learning, but also because my education is something I have tangible control over.
I feel like my world just keeps spinning out of control and it all started with that July 4th, one year ago. March was a particularly bad time for me when I was forced to really deal with the reality that Peppermint was gone as we neared her/his due date. Then just a few measly weeks later my mom died suddenly, something I still am struggling to come to terms with. I just really don't know how to continue. Maybe this why I want to go to law school so much, something else I can attempt and conquer, further empowering myself. Of course, I have other reasons for finishing my BS and pursuing law school, for one, I need a career someday and working in the public sector and challenging laws that are written poorly and are intentionally motivated by hate and fear (think along the lines of Oklahoma's "Arizona Plus" or the previous HB 1804 that actually passed and has dramatically impacted the immigrant community). I guess, for now, my coping mechanism is transferring this immense pain that I feel into passion. Even doing this, I still have good days and very bad days. I am not coping with this well and I just really despise this last year of my life. Also, I now hate the 4th of July. It can no longer be a symbol of independence for me but rather exists only as a prison of pain.
