February 12th. It's my 1/2 birthday. My mom used to bring cupcakes and a balloons to my elementary school on my 1/2 birthday to celebrate. Being a summer baby, one wasn't allowed to have the, "let's eat cupcakes at school for my birthday attention", so we made up our own extra 1/2 birthday party.
February 12th has changed for me. February 12, 2019, I was 13 weeks pregnant with surprise baby number 2, when my water broke at 3:10 pm. Perfect timing, as the school bell was ringing for students to go home, I called my husband to tell him I was going to the ER. Just 2 weeks prior, we had seen the baby's ultrasound, we saw how everything was progressing normally, and we had started to get excited. We had not planned to be pregnant and have 2 under 2, but we rested God is still God and this baby has a purpose. But here we are, sitting in the ER, blood now running down my leg, excitement had been replaced with fear. I knew it was bad, I knew I was losing my baby, and on that day I did.
Miscarried is the word. MISCARRIED. I hate that word. As though I dropped my child. I miscarried it, so they say. This was the day I had to sit on the bathroom floor and cry, as I handed the nurse a tiny baby, my baby. My baby had a head, body, arms and legs. Tiny yes, but a baby. I like to think the baby was a girl. We didn't know, it was to soon, but I keep saying her. As I pick her up, I held her in both hands and gave her up. She was gone. 13 weeks. Some say they are not a baby at that point, believe me, she was a baby.
As the days rolled and seasons changed I healed, had my precious baby Neal, but today is February 12th. My 1/2 birthday any my baby's birthday. She may have only spent a few minutes with me, but she will forever be mine and not I did not miscarry my child. She was always in the Lords hands and now she is sitting at his feet.
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