On what would have been my due date: Our First Pregnancy - Kat Schmoyer

On what would have been my due date: Our First Pregnancy

I debating on even publicly acknowledging today, and while I know I’m not required to do or feel anything – there’s no “right” thing to do & everyone handles it differently – it seemed stranger to not acknowledge than it did to acknowledge.

So here I am. Flying 40,000 in the air, traveling home the day before what would have been my due date, writing a blog post about a day in my life I will never, ever, ever forget. And as much as it hurts to remember, I definitely never want to forget.

I’ll never forget seeing those pink lines.

I thought you were a girl. I still think you were. You have a perfectly girly name in my head & one day I’ll see you in heaven & call you by that very name. I believe that with every fiber of my being.

It was a Friday. I was rushing home from an out of town event and I knew I was pregnant. I just knew. I had to pee an hour before I got home but wouldn’t let myself stop.

Matt was leaving that afternoon for a weekend away, and I wanted so desperately to take the test & see him before he left.

I ran straight the the bathroom, took a test & waited not so patiently.

I couldn’t believe it. I mean, I knew I was – but I still couldn’t believe it.

I immediately ran to the kitchen & chugged a bottle of water … then I took another test.

2 solid lines, and 1 “pregnant” – 8 letters that changed it all.

I didn’t tell Matt in some fun, creative way. He was sitting in his recliner (hello, old man) when I handed him the tests & a onesie from Target I’d been saving.

After he left, I spent 2 hours in Barnes & Noble looking at pregnancy books, adorable baby books & sitting in the kids section thinking “This is it! It’s happening! We’re having a BABY!

Reality slapped me in the face the next morning & we spent the next week wondering if we’d ever meet you.

7 agonizing days later & bruises covering my arms from all the blood work, we were told that yes, I was still pregnant & while we’d had a little scare, all looked great & I was due February 25.

We told my parents 2 days later & there’s a video I still can’t bring myself to watch.

3 days after that, we sat in the Emergency Room of the Outer Banks Hospital with the words “not-viable” repeating over & over in my head.

We never even got an ultrasound picture of our baby.

I think that’s something I will forever miss. Just one picture. One little piece of paper that I’d frame & keep & never let go of.

I saved everything. There’s a box in our closet with those tests, the onesie & sweet cards friends sent me to encourage my darkest moments. I cherish it all.

When I was in Tampa a few weeks ago, I took a walk on the beach. It was my first time being on a beach since July. And part of me worried that I would look at the beach differently. Or that I would have anxiety when thinking about going to the OBX again. But instead of dread, I have a longing unlike any other.

It feels like home. Like a part of me will always be there.

My last moments with her were there.

And because of that, I truly can’t wait to go back this summer.

 

Our first pregnancy was not what I would have ever asked for or ever wanted. And the last 3 weeks, leading up to this day, have been pretty hard. Like, really hard. My heart has been wrecked – and I’ve been reminded that even in the pain, even in the grief, He is God and He is GOOD.

He’s the Bread of Life – the one who sustains – and while I would leverage anything & everything to be in a hospital delivery room today, that wasn’t His plan. And He is still Good.

Every day I remind myself: He doesn’t will everything, but He has a will in everything. A sweet friend told me that & it’s been a blessing… a reminder I cling to.

She changed my life in every way.

And it’s because of that, I share.

It’s because her short life was, in fact, a life that I want the world to know her. I want the world to know she existed and that I am so different from the me I once was.

Even if she never breathed air or touched my hand.

Even if I’ll never know what a February 25 birth story feels like.

Even if I will never have a picture of her framed by my bed.

She is mine. And I am hers.

“The Lord gave & the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.” Job 1:21 

 

xo! kat

 

Outer Banks image by Amanda Hedgepeth Photography

I'm a biz coach and integrator for creatives! My job? To help you dreams & dailys happen every week. Rinse and repeat.

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