Remembering February

January 16, 2019

By Sanda Rathamone

“Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.” - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

We are only midway into January, but my mind is swimming in February. The month of February has been in my thoughts since the end of December. I know that I shouldn't get ahead of myself and stay in the present moment, but February was the month of a miracle. God's miracle.

Near the end of February in 2016 (almost three years ago!) was when I had witnessed two pink lines for the very first time, in years. Those two pinks lines appeared so fast, I didn't have to wait for more than 30 seconds!

My heart dropped and stopped beating for at least a minute, before realizing that what I saw right before my eyes were indeed, very real. What made me jump for joy was knowing that God had answered my prayer from just weeks before. I prayed and cried out to God that He would bless us with a baby.

To this day, I still gaze at that photo, wishing that I could reach into it and hold that pregnancy test one more time. Just one more time, could I feel that very same joy? Could I just stand in that moment, in the bathroom, all alone, in tears, and relish in the quiet excitement of a whole new life ahead of me?

I have forgotten what this had felt like. I want that moment back.

It was this past December that I was watching pregnancy announcements on YouTube. It seems like everyone on YouTube is getting pregnant, at least the channels I have been watching. For some reason, it is easier to watch these YouTube announcements than seeing them on Facebook or Instagram, I don't know why.

I was watching this woman about my age, announcing her first pregnancy to her husband on the very same day that she found out she was pregnant. First, she gave him a box of new shoes (for work) as an early Christmas present. Then, she handed him a plain brown paper bag. I watched her husband's face turn from shock to pure happiness as he pulled out a onesie. I began to smile. And then I cried.

I cried harder as she kept telling him to look into the bag for a second time, but he didn't care. He sprang towards her and tackled her with hugs and kisses. Clearly, all of his excitement was in his tight squeeze of her body.

At the bottom of the bag were positive pregnancy tests and he held them with eyes that would have said, "unbelievable" and "hallelujah!" as if his favorite football team ran towards a touchdown. It looked as if he wanted to shout out to the world that he and his wife were having a baby...

Even with my own pain, I was happy for the both of them. I have never met them, nor do I personally know them, but there was this joy and excitement - reserved, just for them. Yet, in some way, it was also for me. I watch these announcements because it is the only way I could relive those moments of when I found out that I was pregnant. I want to be pregnant again so badly that this is all I could do to "feel it" again.

As time passes, I lose the clarity of my memories of Elijah, all of which were when I was pregnant. It saddens me that all I have to remember Elijah by are of those pregnant memories, the time we spent at the hospital, and things he never got to wear or touch - nothing more.

I am trying my best to grasp everything I could remember on that very day that one line became two and changed my life. Forever.

This is infertility after loss.

With love,
Must Read:
Read the full story about Elijah:
Elijah's Story: From Gender Reveal To A Spontaneous Delivery

Photo: maxpixel

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