and baby makes 6! » Archives » You finally got your girl!

This comment follows me wherever I go. There are many variations of it, my least favorite being "Had to keep trying ’til you got that girl".

These words are mostly uttered by strangers. People who see me out with my 4 kids. Naturally, when they see a girl at the end of 3 boys, they assume that we are done, because we finally reached the peak, the pinnacle so to speak, and finally got that girl.

These people don’t know the whole story. They were not there when I miscarried for the first time. They could not guess that 4 months after that sorrow, I would again lose another child to m/c. Nor could they have the knowledge that I experienced another loss a mere 6 weeks later. I wonder what they would say if they knew that 3 months after our 3rd loss, I sobbed as we watched on US the tiniest heartbeat in the world slowly stop beating. Would they cry if they knew that 3 days later I delivered him/her in the bathroom with my 3 children sitting outside the bathroom door listening to my muffled cries?

Could they know that my heart was broken? How could they possibly be aware that it took the life out of me? That getting out of bed in the morning was a testament of my love for my 3 children, because, people, it took the strength of Hercules to pull back the covers.

What do you say to someone who takes for granted the gift and thinks that each pregnancy ends with a live baby? What can you say to someone who thinks that the worth of a child is in their gender?

I mean, how could they know that we kept trying until we got that live baby? I can’t even type that without sobbing. She was the one that survived. She lived, even when the doctors were telling me that her chances were less than 20%. My body no longer was a safe, warm haven for creation. It was a hostile, violent place that pregnancy was not welcome. Yet, she survived.

She grew, month by month and I waited, month by month for her to die. After all, it had happened 4 times in 10 months. Why would this pregnancy be different? Every day was like an eternity. I waited in terrified anticipation for each milestone. Each goal met was enormous! 8 weeks:

10 weeks:

12 weeks:

Feeling the first movement, viability at 24 weeks, my 3rd trimester. Each one was met with utter disbelief.

Then came her birth, and as she was pulled from my body, she inhaled her first breath, and cried her first cry. I sobbed so hard I could hardly breathe. I said "Is she okay? Is there anything wrong with her? Is she really crying?" I remember thinking "Oh my dear God, is she really alive, is this real? Am I dreaming?" I remember looking at Bill and I saw him crying too. He told me later that he did not cry from watching the birth. He was watching me so he could see my reaction to it, and that is what made him cry.

Shortly after, she was placed in my arms, and I held her and was so grateful that I could now protect her. I felt that her safety was not out of my control anymore.

Regardless of the wonderful outcome, 15 months to the day have passed since her birth, and I still can’t believe she is here. I still can’t put her in her crib at night. I still sleep with her in my arms. She goes everywhere with me. I have never left her with a baby sitter. Bill has just started taking her with him when he goes to the pool with the kids, or takes them to ball practice. Up until I started riding my bike again, I would not leave her with anyone. Sometimes on my rides, when I am 10 miles out, panic will seize me as I wonder if Bill will remember to close the gate if he goes outside with her. Will he cut her food up small enough so she doesn’t choke? Fear stabs me. At these times, I pick up my pace so I can get home to her.

How do you tell a stranger all of this? I usually smile and say something generic like "We are so lucky to have all our kids". Then there are times when a person says that line, and I see them really look into my eyes, like they know there is a great story there. So I tell them everything. It is when I see their tears that I know they understand.

My girl is 15 months old today. Yes, I have a daughter. There is no denying the joy this brings me. But, that is another story all together.

She is a rare and precious soul. Her life, a gift to me it seems. Her gender is the icing on the cake.