There's Something You Don't Know About Me

I debated whether or not I should write this.

We can laugh about my parenting mishaps. We can squirm with jealousy over my husband's fancy vacation digs (I'm kidding babe!). But do you want to know my heart? Share my pain? I'm not so sure. But I decided I would break the silence and write it anyway.

I am the mom of five babies.

I have a son, and you don't even know that he exists.

I'm not sure how to begin telling his story. My husband and I were surprised, to say the least, when we learned that I was pregnant. Big Kid was just six months old. I was one of those "lucky" ones who's cycle started right at six weeks postpartum, breastfeeding be damned. I wasn't supposed to be pregnant.

The  mini pill failed me. It would go on to fail me twice more.

We did the math. Baby #2 was due in July of 2009. Big Kid would be turning one a month prior.

I was embarrassed to be pregnant. Ashamed, even.  My new baby weight was easily disguised as "old" baby weight. I wore scarves and sweaters to cover up the fact that my belly was growing rather than shrinking.

We didn't celebrate the pregnancy. We only told our doctor, our moms, and my siblings.  If you had to know, you  knew, and that was the extent of it.

Somewhere around 16 weeks into the pregnancy, I began bleeding. I knew something wasn't right. I saw my doctor a few times, but nothing significant was found. Baby was thriving. We heard his heart beating strong.

The following weekend, I attended a friend's bridal shower. I began cramping regularly. I knew that whatever was happening was getting worse. I left the shower early, went home, and told my husband that we needed to go to the hospital.

We waited for hours. Finally, the ER doctor ordered an ultrasound. Baby was thriving. We heard his heart beating strong.

The doctor discharged us before radiology reviewed the scan.. I was given silly instructions, like  don't vacuum. Rest.

We were standing at the check out desk when a nurse stopped us and called us back in. I was being admitted.  Suddenly, I wasn't even permitted to walk or sit upright. They wheeled me up to the second floor.

It wasn't long before my OB arrived in my room on the Maternity floor. The news wasn't good. With tears in his eyes, my doctor told me that my cervix was funneling and dilating. We tried to stop my contractions with an awful drug called terbutaline.  If it worked, we could place a cerclage and hope for the best.

My water broke early the next morning, and our son was born a few minutes later.

He was the tiniest baby boy that I have ever seen.

My baby never took a breath in this world. And as his mom, I have failed. You see, my heart is beating strong. The air is mine to breathe. And yet, I have not used that breath to tell you his story.  You don't even know that he exists.

I have a son. His name is Michael Joseph, and now you know that he was here.