Different

Ever since Christa's birthday, I have been thinking a lot about this time last year. It's been hard not to, and I think it's because these were the days we were celebrating our pregnancy with our Teeny-bear. We had shared our news with family and friends, via video, at Christa's party, and were happily celebrating the 4th of July and getting settled into our new town with one baby and another on the way.

Even though we were in the process of moving, I had strong feelings about having my first doctor's appointment with the same doctor who delivered Christa. I had a great pregnancy and delivery with her, and although I give God credit for that, my doctor was awesome! Plus, I hadn't had time to ask around about our new local doctors, so we scheduled an appointment in Augusta, thinking we could stop off on our way to the beach.

One year ago today, we donned Christa in her newly purchased "I'm the Big Sister" t-shirt, while Cline wore his "New Dad" polo. I took Christa to a Chick-fil-a breakfast, and held her on my knee while I gagged in the bathroom in much the same way I had during my early pregnancy days with her. We drove to the same hospital and walked into the same office that we had walked into so many times when we were expecting Christa. We checked in with the same receptionists. We waited in the same waiting room, and the same nurses called me back to get my blood pressure. We walked through the same walkway and waited again in the same secondary waiting area. I imagined having the same chatty conversation in my doctor's cozy office and had a page full of questions about how we might logistically work out a long-distance delivery. We had the same excited anticipation about hearing the baby's heartbeat for the first time.

The same ultrasound tech who did my later ultrasound with Christa called us back to the same ultrasound room. I changed into my paper drape and laid down on the same ultrasound table, noticing the same, annoying "no picture-taking policies." (Stupid malpractice lawsuits!)

The ultrasound started off the same. We looked at my uterus and saw the baby. Teeny-bear looked the same to me as Christa had at that point. But when the ultrasound tech turned the machine off without letting me hear or see the heartbeat, things started to change. I asked about the heartbeat, and she said she couldn't pick one up. At first, I was annoyed, thinking it was too early, and I'd have to worry all weekend over nothing. But as the seconds ticked away, I started to realize that I was on a very different table... in a very different room. I had a different conversation with Cline as I searched for some hope that my dates were wrong, even though I was certain they were correct. Cline gave me a different hug, and we cried different tears. A nurse let us stay in the ultrasound room until the doctor was ready to see us... not in his warm and cozy office, but a very different exam room.

We had a different conversation with Dr. Burns about what to do, and he confirmed our different instincts. My questions about long-distance deliveries were replaced with different questions about this unchartered territory. After the appointment was over, I called my mom in a different tone of voice, and we left on a different vacation, trying to figure out how to go back into a very different world.

I've pretty much chronicled our life since then - we've had our ups and downs, and I'm pleased to say it's been mostly up.

On my due date, we took some small gifts to the Labor and Delivery floor, to be given out to all the babies born that day. As we were awaiting our security clearance to get back to the nurse's station, a woman approached us, and asked us if we had a baby back there. We said no, and she went on to tell us that her granddaughter was behind the locked doors, sick and on a ventilator, and it was just killing her that she couldn't be with her. I gave her one of our gift bags, and told her we would pray for her granddaughter and their family. She said she felt like we were supposed to meet that day. Maybe we were. I hope her granddaughter, Emma Kate, is at home and healthy today.

One year later, life has gone on for us. We are settled in our new town, and even found a different doctor, close by, who we like and trust. We are excited to welcome a new and different daughter into the world in just a couple of months. But we still think about the baby we lost. And knowing that there is no biological way we could have had this baby without losing the other one is... well... different.

One day, we will get to have all of our children together. We very much look forward to that day. In the meantime, we love and enjoy the two precious daughters that God has entrusted us with. And we love and miss the baby He took with Him one year ago today.