This is a direct copy of what I wrote in my journal on October 13, 2012:
Today was the due date of my sweet angel baby. A date I will always remember. I know I have not included any details about the miscarriage so I will briefly explain what happened but I do not want that to be the focus of this entry. At one of our visits with the midwives, we could not find the heartbeat so we were sent to the ultrasound clinic and were told that our baby was gone (at 16 weeks, 6 days). That was the most horrific day of my life. Jordan and I just held each other and cried. Our hopes were shattered. I ended up having a D&C and spending the night in the hospital. We were informed we lost this baby due to a partial molar pregnancy and I was monitored closely after because it can turn into cancer. I took lots of time off work and people reached out to us and supported us in our darkest hour.
Since that time, I have had good days and bad days.
Heavenly Father has sent me the comfort of the Holy Spirit but there are still triggers that remind me - and that hurts. I think it's okay to hurt; it shows I loved, and still love this baby as well as my other two sweet babies.
Something that helps with the hurt is pushing myself to do things I never thought I could do. I did my first triathlon in August and it changed my life. It was so good to get outside and run with the wind in my face and the beautiful world all around me.
In September I knew my "due date" was just around the corner and pictured what a horrible day it could be so I searched online for races on October 13 and found one called heartbeats. I thought the name was very fitting because hearing our baby's heartbeat was so wonderful and exciting and when we could no longer hear that, our feelings were the complete opposite. I raised some money for the race to support children born with congenital heart defects and my mom, Jarom, Emily, James, Robin, Megan, and my sweetheart Jordan signed up to run with me.
When I crossed the start line, I darted around several people and rushed to be further ahead. I wanted to be away from everyone so I could think by myself and I felt like I had fire in my shoes.
For a 5K, I never run faster than a 5:00/km pace (more like 5:45-6:20) but today I just felt so motivated to push myself, and my runmeter app on my iphone kept telling my my pace was under 5mins! My mantra was, "I can do hard things!". I thought about my baby a lot and every time I did, instead of feeling weak and defeated, I felt strong and I felt like I was conquering.
I sprinted across the finish line and hugged Jordan who had already finished. We then cheered on the rest of my family as they came across the finish line.
We looked at our times and discovered that Jordan came in second (out of 205) and first in his age group (for the men) and I came in 3rd place out of the women and first in my age group also. We each got two medals and gift cards to the running room. It felt great to stand up at the front together and have our picture taken.
I DID IT! A few months ago, I didn't think I could even run 5k, let alone come out on top.
Earlier this year (when I was still pregnant), I recall saying, "I don't think I can survive another miscarriage" Yet I have. And perhaps, same as the race, instead of just enduring this, perhaps I can come out on top. Maybe I can be a better, stronger, more loving, faith-filled person after this whole experience.
I want nothing more than to be a mother in this life. I know this will happen one day, but for now, I will just keep putting one foot in front of another.
