I have waited for you.
And I don’t mean the easy kind of
wait. I mean I’ve really really
waited. We’re the same, Olive, we take things slow. We wait until we know for
sure, that this is the right moment, before we make decisions. But Olive
Elisabeth, you have been a long time comin’ my dear, and I need you to know how
much I love you already.
october 2012
I was freshly 25 and newly in love. In love with a boy that finally made my
heart feel like it belonged right where it was. A love that was good. A love
that, little did we know then, could get through just about anything. The
colors were starting to change outside and as I drove myself home from work
that Friday in October, I found my mind wandering... to fall, and new sweaters,
and pumpkin bread, and to a thought that, wait a second, could I be...?
And the answer was yes. That bright
red shiny positive. I was pregnant. That Friday in October, I became a mother.
I don’t remember feeling scared, or nervous, or worried. Just instantly in
love. And ready. So ready to be a mother. I wondered things like who will this
little baby be? A boy? A girl? What kind of mother will I be? I am so in love. So
in love.
november 25, 2012 – the hardest day
Things weren’t right this day. Starting in the very early hours. Things just
weren’t right. I knew they weren’t right. This wasn’t how I was supposed to be
feeling. And as the day went on, the feeling got worse. Much much worse. Painful.
No. it can’t be. I’m supposed to be a mother. I was supposed to be a mother. But
things didn’t get better and as the night went on, I learned that you were
already gone. And as the tears flowed and our hearts broke, we said goodbye to
our tiny little someday baby in the late hours of that cold Sunday night. You were
gone.
I still don’t have the words to describe the months between then and now.
Except for that it was not easy. And that our hearts will never be the same. That
the ache never really goes away, it just gets a little easier to bear. I think
the hardest part was not knowing if I will ever get another chance to be a
mother. And wondering what I could have done differently, or why this happened
to me? And will I ever feel joy
again? But you need to know how lucky you are, Olive. Because you have two
parents who have so much love for each other that we learned how to let this
make us stronger. And braver. And if it was possible, even more in love. An unbreakable love that we couldn’t wait to share with you. We couldn’t wait... but we did. We
waited.
may 2013
And waited.
I knew you were there, then, but my heart wasn’t sure if I could
even take it. So I waited, some more. Summer was on its way and as I drove
myself home from work that Friday in May, my heart felt its first glimmer of
hope for you. And the answer was yes.
That bright red shiny positive. I was pregnant... with you, Olive. I
remember sitting on my bathroom floor, just me and Lola-pup, crying and
thanking all of my stars and whoever grants my wishes for my second chance. For
you, Olive. You are my joy and my peace and I have waited for you. Really
waited.
october 2013
Its been a year. I am freshly 26. Just a few days shy of 28 weeks. 28 weeks pregnant.
90% viability. I keep telling myself all of the facts. And as I’m typing, I can
feel you doing some sort of somersault-stretch that hurts my guts, but I don’t even
care. Because in 12 weeks I will get to kiss your little fingers and toes and
see what your little baby lips look like and what color your hair is. I am
your mother. I have been a mother since October 2012. And my nervous little
heart sometimes can’t even handle the wait. But I love you. So much. Already.
I am bringing a woman into this world. I don’t really know how to explain how
that makes my heart feel. Except for that I feel so lucky, and honored. And I
know that the world is a scary place and that sometimes, really awful things
happen. But I am so grateful that you will grow up around other strong, kind,
and amazing women. The women who helped me through the hardest days and were by
my side through the happiest. We are women who help and support other women,
Olive. And I already know that you are destined for great things.
Thank you for teaching me how to feel joy again, Olive Elisabeth.
I love you.
