~If one dream should fall and break into a thousand pieces, never be afraid to pick one of those pieces up and begin again~
I found this picture on Facebook today, on my last day with a two year old.
And I found myself reminiscing about this day three years ago. I had no idea that the next day I would no longer be pregnant. I was still in the midst of my FIGHT. Because fighting I was. Call it faith. Call it denial. Call it what you will, but even then, at 29 weeks pregnant and entering my third week of hospital bedrest at 4 cm dilated, moved back to Labor and Delivery and back on magnesium that was failing, I was NOT having a baby then. You could have talked yourself blue in the face with every amount of medical knowledge and information and I still would have told you to stuff it, I had 8 more weeks until my fight was over and I was going those 8 more weeks. It wasn't until that moment the doctor came and explained to me that at 7 cm dilated and active laboring for over an hour that I was having a baby then that I gave up the fight.
And I guess, the phrase "gave up the fight" isn't even the right phrase. Because I didn't give up the fight. I just changed the fight. Instead of fighting to keep my baby in my belly, I fought for her life in an incubator, with tubes and wires.
I picked up a piece and I began again. And I sit here today with a dream come true.