All my life I’ve wanted children. When I was younger and people would ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I could never get a clear picture of a career. All I could see was myself surrounded by children. My faith in that dream was tested quite early in my life. My first pregnancy ended in an early miscarriage just days after I found out I was pregnant. I was able to accept that sometimes things just didn’t work out.
My husband and I decided to try again. Six months later I was pregnant again. Although I was overjoyed, I felt a sense of foreboding. I couldn’t picture myself with a cuddly newborn. As much as I wanted to look forward to the birth, I held back a bit. Very soon, I developed severe morning sickness. I spent a lot of time being sick. I made many trips to the hospital to be rehydrated and stabilized. However, the sickness made me feel closer to my baby. I knew he was in there, and I was going through this for him. Somehow I just knew he was a boy.
At about fourteen weeks along the doctors ordered an ultrasound. My excitement to see the baby soon turned into terror. The ultrasound tech called in several doctors. Those doctors referred me to even more doctors. My baby had a condition called Hydranencephaly . It is a deformation of the brain, and the doctors called it “incompatible with life.” The specialist that I had seen wanted to perform a termination of the pregnancy. Between the condition of the baby and my own declining health, they were certain I could not continue to carry the pregnancy. But I held on, wanting time to think things through.
A few nights after I got the news, I dreamed of my little boy. He told me that this wasn’t his time. I should let go and know that he would be OK. I finally felt peace, like everything made sense. I agreed to go ahead with the termination, knowing it would somehow be OK. In my heart I named that little boy Caleb and I knew I’d see him again.
Before I left the hospital, the doctors went over some very scary risks if I should become pregnant again too soon. I had lost about 30% of my bodyweight in 3 months. I’d had complications with bleeding and my blood pressure was high. I understood and agreed it was safest to wait a year to try again. My husband and I used multiple types of birth control to avoid another pregnancy too soon. However, about 2 months after I lost Caleb I felt that same old sickness.
I took a home test and it came up positive. I was terrified. I made an appointment with my doctors for the next day. That night I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t know what I should do… if this baby would be healthy, if I could stay healthy. As I thought about everything and reflected on my dream, I was sure this pregnancy was meant to be. I knew deep in my heart that I would have this baby and it would all be fine.
My doctors had different opinions. I was told that it was so unlikely that I was pregnant again that I should have another procedure to clean out any remaining “products of conception.” I refused. I found a different doctor who was willing to wait a few weeks to see how things developed. I was on pins and needles until my ultrasound at 12 weeks which showed a perfectly growing baby. Words can’t begin to say how grateful I was that I refused my old doctor.
My pregnancy went well, I was still sick, but my baby was fine. I had frequent ultrasounds and at every one I was hoping to learn the gender of the baby. My baby had other ideas and kept its little legs crossed tightly! My husband and I picked the names Kassidy for a girl and Colton for a boy. I couldn’t get a clear picture of the baby in my head, so I waited and waited. Kassidy was finally born two weeks late. She was perfect and happy and healthy. We were thrilled! She was some sort of miracle to have been conceived and carried against so many odds.
Still, I thought of my little boy from my dream. When Kassidy was two I became pregnant again. When I told her there was a baby in my belly, she told me “I know, mommy, that is my baby brubber Colton.” From that moment on, nothing could dissuade her from her “brubber” or his name. I took her with me to my ultrasound appointment at around twenty weeks .She promptly informed the tech that she was here to see a picture of her “brubber.” I was afraid of what would happen if it was another girl!
Of course, Kassidy was right. I was having a boy. And even though we had never told her that Colton might have been her name, she insisted that I name her baby Colton. He was born healthy and wonderful. Kassidy sat on my bed looking at him with a very “I told you so” expression on her face. They are 12 and 9 now and are still very close and loving towards each other. I’m sure they are both very old souls and have known each other before birth.
As Colton grew, he looked more and more like the boy from my dream. When he was eight years old, I looked at him and knew it was the same child. I’ve never been a particularly religious person but I know that I was blessed to have him at the right time. My children are everything to me and I love them more every day.