This is a true recounting of my life…..
Life does not always turn out like we imagine or think it will. When we are young, we dream big and in our heads… those dreams still have the ability to come true. We shoot for the stars feeling on top of the world with a false sense that we can pluck one of those stars right out of the sky. However, as we age … I like to use the old road analogy. We come to an intersection and must choose a path to follow. This post is one I have been thinking about sharing for a long time. I could just never get the courage to actually put it out there for all to know. It’s a path I chose and will bare the burden too until my dying breath.
It’s not because I am hiding something. But rather, because it is hard to talk about. Hard to deal with and so very difficult to come up with the correct words to explain my true feelings during this period of time in my life. I also have others to think about as my sharing this part of my life would directly affect other people. So with permission from the person, it affects the most, I will attempt to finally share.
I have always been a dreamer. I have always warn my heart on my sleeve and felt it was the only way to live. I put every ounce of my being into everything I do. Love, was no different. I believed in the fairytales I was read too at night. I bought into the Disney movies that told me there was a handsome prince to come and sweep me off my feet so we could live happily ever after.
After a few dead ends and wrong turns, I finally met my prince. I put him high on a pedestal and from the day we met, we spent every single day together. Growing our relationship and love to the hights I always believed they could be. I fell hard and fast for this man. I put my trust and loyalty into him and our relationship. So when he asked me to marry him and become his wife, I was overjoyed and all too happy to say, “YES.” For many years, we lived the fairytale.
We hardly ever fought. I think in the time we were together we fought less than a handful of times. Don’t get me wrong, those were some pretty serious fights even leading to me kicking him out at one point. But I had felt like I had lost a part of myself during our week apart. I was empty and lost without him. So, we worked it out. He came home and it was the perfect marriage.
We knew each other inside and out. Finished each other’s sentences, respected our differences, believed in each other, lifted each other up and found comfort in each other’s arms. He was not only the love of my life, but my best friend and my soul mate. He got me like no other person on earth had got me. When he looked at me, my heart lept. When he put his arms around me, I felt his love for me seeping into my skin. It was comfortable and welcoming. It was home. When he kissed me, sparks flew like I had never known before. This man had become part of my soul.
Through the years, others would come to us and ask us how we did it? How were we so successful in love? How we seemed to get along so well and continued to look at each other as if it was the first time we met all over again. If we were in a room together but on opposite sides, we could sense each other’s presence and others admired the looks we gave each other. Our response was always the same, if it is true mutual love, it finds a way.
We woke up every single morning putting the other first, I him, and him, me. Our first thoughts were, “What can I do today to make him/her feel special, cared about, needed, wanted and loved?” We never went to bed angry or upset. Always holding each other close at night cuddled in the warmth of each other’s arms. We talked, oh boy did we talk. Open communication was a special key factor in our success.
We had two wonderful beautiful and talented children. My son, whom he became a step-father too and our love child. The miracle baby I was told I would never be able to have. Our son was 9 when our daughter was born. Between having my children I had had several miscarriages and was diagnosed with FactorV as well as endometriosis. These two medical issues coupled with RH- blood and a rare condition where I cannot produce amniotic fluid in the third trimester of pregnancy rendered my body useless to have more children. Doctor’s told me not to count on carrying my daughter to full term and prepare ourselves for the worse.
During the entire pregnancy, I could not hold anything down and could barely eat. I lost over 25 pounds instead of gaining weight. But we held out hope and never gave up that our baby would survive. She was due May 15, 2002. However, during a routine exam with several weeks left, my doctor said he could not hear a heartbeat. He sent me directly to the hospital from his office and met us there. Set me up on monitors where it was discovered her heartbeat kept dropping and there already was no amniotic fluid. I started having contractions while on the monitors so they said they had to induce labor then and there.
After several hours of no progress despite their efforts, my husband was told it would be okay to go home grab some items I would need at the hospital and make arrangements for our son to stay with his grandparents. While he was gone, doctor’s decided they could not wait any longer and rushed me into an emergency C-section. They allowed me to call my husband who then had to rush back to the hospital and came in the operating room just as they were cutting me open.
Our beautiful baby daughter was born that day perfectly healthy. Absolutely nothing was wrong with her at all. She never even had to be put in the NICU. I, on the other hand, had some setbacks. I died not once but twice on the operating table. The first time, they could not get the bleeding to stop and I was hemorrhaging out. The second, I had had an allergic reaction to the morphine and went into anaphylactic shock. I was revived both times…I know well duh… I am here writing out this part of my life story right. lol
Doctor’s said my daughter could have even gone home that day she was in such perfect shape other than being only 4 pounds. I, on the other hand, had a long road to recovery and had to stay a week in the hospital. To say it was a miracle that my daughter survived despite all odds and was perfect in every way and I was able to be revived both times I had literally died on the operating table would be an understatement. There was definitely a higher power at work her looking out for us.
I share this part of the story, so you can all get a sense of what I THOUGHT my life was like. How absolutely perfect I thought it was and how after this experience with the birth of our daughter and my survival, nothing could touch us. Nothing could burst my bubble or harm us.
TO BE CONTINUED…