We found out we were pregnant for the third time, 9 weeks after losing our second child, our first daughter Yasminah Ann. It was in my mind, a natural miracle. A gift of hope, born from love and great loss.
I still remember my husband looking at my belly and asking me If I could be pregnant. I immediately dismissed the suggestion replying that I was still 'just fat'. Placing my hands on my wobbly belly, staring at the marks permanently etched into my skin. Marks of love, honour and growth. A part of my body that once held so many dreams and nurtured two precious babies. The crushing weight of knowing I'd only ever get to hold one of my babies in my arms lived with me each time I saw my scarred body.
The doubt, fear and excitement set in. Could I be pregnant? Would this baby die too? What would people think? Yasminah just died! Are we ready to have another child? Who cares what they think! OMG we might be pregnant! There could be a baby growing inside me right this very moment.
Then I was late........So I did a test, but I was so busy that I didn't wait the three minutes for the lines to appear. I saw one faint line appear on the test and put it aside on the bathroom vanity and went on with the day. Perhaps it wasn't being too busy to stop, it was the fear that held me back from waiting any longer after seeing that one faint negative line appear. My body had failed me, it had failed my child only a few short months beforehand. How could I believe that anything positive could happen after the devastating loss of my one and only daughter.
How on earth could I be trusted to deliver another healthy, living, breathing child into this world? How could I be trusted with growing another child? How could I trust my body growing a new child? A million and one questions and doubts ran through my mind. There was this little glimmer of hope and I grasped it with both hands and held onto it tight! How beautiful would it be to have the opportunity to grow our family, to bring another child into this world, to give my son the sibling he so desperately wanted. To feel that moment of happiness when you hold your newborn child in your arms.
It wasn't until after lunch, cleaning the ensuite I realized the test was still sitting on the bathroom vanity. When I picked it up, holding it in my hands, I couldn't believe my eyes! There staring back at me were two pink lines!! Two pink lines. A positive pregnancy test. I was pregnant. Right in this moment there was a child growing inside my broken womb. A new child. We were going to have another child. I started shaking and crying and staring at these two pink lines that appeared on the test in my hands. Something to hope for.......
I still remember my husband looking at my belly and asking me If I could be pregnant. I immediately dismissed the suggestion replying that I was still 'just fat'. Placing my hands on my wobbly belly, staring at the marks permanently etched into my skin. Marks of love, honour and growth. A part of my body that once held so many dreams and nurtured two precious babies. The crushing weight of knowing I'd only ever get to hold one of my babies in my arms lived with me each time I saw my scarred body.
The doubt, fear and excitement set in. Could I be pregnant? Would this baby die too? What would people think? Yasminah just died! Are we ready to have another child? Who cares what they think! OMG we might be pregnant! There could be a baby growing inside me right this very moment.
Then I was late........So I did a test, but I was so busy that I didn't wait the three minutes for the lines to appear. I saw one faint line appear on the test and put it aside on the bathroom vanity and went on with the day. Perhaps it wasn't being too busy to stop, it was the fear that held me back from waiting any longer after seeing that one faint negative line appear. My body had failed me, it had failed my child only a few short months beforehand. How could I believe that anything positive could happen after the devastating loss of my one and only daughter.
How on earth could I be trusted to deliver another healthy, living, breathing child into this world? How could I be trusted with growing another child? How could I trust my body growing a new child? A million and one questions and doubts ran through my mind. There was this little glimmer of hope and I grasped it with both hands and held onto it tight! How beautiful would it be to have the opportunity to grow our family, to bring another child into this world, to give my son the sibling he so desperately wanted. To feel that moment of happiness when you hold your newborn child in your arms.
It wasn't until after lunch, cleaning the ensuite I realized the test was still sitting on the bathroom vanity. When I picked it up, holding it in my hands, I couldn't believe my eyes! There staring back at me were two pink lines!! Two pink lines. A positive pregnancy test. I was pregnant. Right in this moment there was a child growing inside my broken womb. A new child. We were going to have another child. I started shaking and crying and staring at these two pink lines that appeared on the test in my hands. Something to hope for.......
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