Today, one year ago, I found out I was pregnant with Asher. I remember I was 6 days late and Hubby wanted to go spend $7 for a fancy pregnancy test. I told him I was not wasting money on them when the dollar store test does the same thing. I never expected the test to be positive and I wasn’t wasting money on a fancy test to tell me I wasn’t pregnant. I thought for sure my period was late from my D&C and my body was just getting back to normal. So we went out to the dollar store to grab a couple tests. I came home and took the test. Immediately, I saw two lines. I remember feeling terrified. I didn’t cry like I did with my first pregnancy. I just yelled, “Hubby, its positive!”. I was so very afraid of having another miscarriage, I didn’t allow myself to get excited. I never expected those two lines to be staring back at me.
One year later, it has been almost 6 months without my sweet boy. It’s days like this, that I think to myself, “How is this my life? How did everything go so horribly wrong? How is he not here? How is it 2017 and I do not have a reason for why my son died?”.
This past week my husband’s grandmother passed away. Yesterday we had her funeral service. While it is sad that his grandmother passed, she lived a very long and wonderful life. She was almost 92 and she was suffering towards the end. I told Hubby that now she will be able to meet Asher and that brought me some comfort.
I actually found myself to be more emotional about Asher while at the service than the loss of Grandma. During the service, I felt like the pastor was talking to me about the loss of Asher. We never had a service for Asher so the things he was saying applied to the loss of him too. There were several moments where I had to reel it in. I found myself on the verge of tears seeing the photo collage of Grandma with all the family members. There was a photo of her with every member of the family, except for Asher. She never got to meet him and there will never be any new photos of him…ever. During the fellowship hour after the service, the families were catching up about their children. Photos were shared of each other’s grandchildren. But, understandably so, there was no talk of Asher. It broke my heart that he would never be bragged about by others because he will never grow up. I sat there quietly and pretended not to listen. Shortly after, I was introduced to Grandma’s sister and I told her I was sorry to meet her under such sad circumstances. She thanked me and told me that she was sorry to hear of our loss. Her words were almost my undoing. Not only because I was just very emotional, but because Asher was acknowledged. It meant so much to hear the absence of my son mentioned.
I forgot about what this day was to me last year until I looked at my Timehop this morning. Seeing the photo of that pregnancy test was like a slap in the face. SMACK! Your life should be very different than it is today. SMACK! You didn’t even allow yourself to celebrate that positive test when you had the chance. SMACK! Instead of playing with your child one year later, you are struggling to conceive another. The emotions I held back yesterday came to a head today upon seeing that photo.
Luckily, today was still a good day. I was able to spend time with my parents for a little belated birthday brunch. Asher came to visit me in the form of a butterfly on our bush (I haven’t seen one in a few days, but today there he was). I got a new Cricut machine and was able to use it on our first order for The Lucky Anchor Project. They say in grief certain days are simply harder than others. I find they are the days that remind me of what my life should be like had things not gone terribly wrong. Yesterday and today were both reminders of that.