Wednesday, April 1, 2009


I knew I was pregnant with you before the test told me so, even though I was in some state of denial before I got the proof. I remember going to lunch with my dad in that seemingly never ending inbetween time and feeling as though I was going to gag on the chicken in my tortilla soup. I remember the nagging voice in the back of my head saying "see! You're pregnant! You are!" and I felt like I would burst with the desire to tell someone, anyone, about the possibility of you. But I didn't. In fact, even though I could not hug anyone without the feeling of fire across my chest, and I could smell a simple piece of peanut butter toast from the next room so strongly that it was dizzying, I could not believe it.

It was not the time, after all. We were supposed to wait. I thought of my old manager, who had fallen pregnant unexpectedly, telling newly-engaged me to watch out: once you are married, it happens more easily. I didn't know what she meant at first, but soon I got it. The security and societal acceptance of marriage makes you lazy, more willing to take risks. Suddenly, in the midst of analyzing every twinge in my body, I knew all to well how she must have felt.

I was excited. Well, excited doesn't even begin to touch the surface of it, really. My biological clock had swung into gear a full year before and you were the manifestation of my wildest dreams. I knew it was not a good time to try for a baby, but I prayed for it to happen by accident.

It was September 9th when I found out that you did, in fact, exist. After an ambiguous line the day before, Jesse insisted we get the digital tests. He wanted it in black and white, no more analyzing little pink lines. I woke up earlier than usual, anxious to know for sure, and my heart pounded in my throat as I watched the little hourglass begin to flash. At some point, I turned away from it, the anticipation too overwhelming. "It's going to say Not Pregnant," I told myself about a million times before turning around. When I finally did, I glanced at it a few times before picking it up to examine it more closely, sure I had missed the "Not" part of it. But there was definitely only one word across the display.

I loved you from that moment on. I did not know that our time together would be so short or that you would change me in ways I could not have imagined. I loved you. I still do, every moment.


Hope said...

What a beautiful post. I remember that moment of disbelief coupled with joy vividly as well!

Your blog is beautiful. I'm so so sorry for your loss. Layla will be in your heart forever, but I know that doesn't help the hurt you feel now. I know that all too well.
Wishing you peace,

Wabi said...

Just wanted to drop by your blog and say I'm so sorry for your loss. The first year is an especially tough journey.

Also ... Layla Wren is a really beautiful name.