The title might lead some to think this could be a potty training blog, alas, it is not. Sorry to those of you who were tricked into clicking on this link believing it would lead you to the meandering thoughts of a father with a three year old son who, by all means, should be going through some potty obstacle course by now. We actually got lucky and Ethan has been potty trained since he was a little over two years old. Yes, I'm allowed to brag.
Now to the real meaning behind the title.
Tomorrow, March 27th, Melissa, Ethan and I will be finding out if our bundle of joy is going to be Landon Keith or Lily Claire. We are all very excited about finding out and we are having a small get together with both sets of grandparents and some aunts as well to have a "reveal" party. These parties have caught on quite a bit with facebook and pintrest folks and we couldn't help but fall in line with the rest of America when letting the world know if there's going to be a bit more estrogen or testosterone floating around.
Three, almost four, years ago I blogged about the work put into conceiving Ethan. About how it was a great experience for both of us as husband and wife and the closeness which came with such a task. We always knew we wanted another kiddo, since Ethan was such an angel! I mean, he never throws any fits or talks back or says he doesn't love us or anything most parents told us about the terrible twos and threes (SARCASM ALERT).
I know every parent goes through tough times with two and three year old toddlers, some even do it being single (kudos to you, I'd probably give up), I also know some have twins and triplets and they go through it with multiples. One is hard enough, but two, even three? Get out of town!
Sometimes I ponder why in the world would we want to do this again, then I think, why wouldn't we! Getting here has been a bit harder and after having talked to Melissa, we thought we would share our story.
In the summer of 2013 we found out "we" were pregnant again! Happiness all around! Calls made to let relatives know, just like when Ethan was found out about. We went in for an doctor's appointment expecting good news, but got the opposite. We were no longer pregnant. This is an emotional gut punch. The happy phone calls were turned into phone calls of sadness.
Then, fear and doubt crept in, sat in the corner of the room like the big elephant they can be in marriages. We had to have the conversation about what if we can't have another, even though the doctor reassured us that many families go through this same ordeal. Even saying that women with multiple kids have a miscarriage in between sometimes. That was all well and good, but it wasn't our family. We apparently were blessed with Ethan and didn't think about anything like this happening when he was but a peanut in his mommy's belly.
We took some time before we tried again, at the suggestion of our doctor. Not long though, in the Autumn of 2013, we again were expecting, this time we didn't let everyone know until after our doctor's visit. Even, before the appointment, Melissa tested pregnant three times. We didn't want to go through the phone calls again in case something happened. Doctor's visit went smoothly and we thought we were on our way. We had photo cards printed out with four pumpkins on them and had our names on them too. Dad, Mom, Ethan and baby. We were sure it was going to work out this time. We even got to see an ultrasound and saw baby wiggling around like they do that early in the pregnancy. We set up another appointment and were going to have another ultrasound as well.
That appointment came and we went into the ultrasound room, my mother-in-law, Peggy, was there too. Everyone was excited to see the baby again, but when everything was ready, there was nothing there, just a blank screen. My stomach dropped, eyes welled up. The ultrasound tech apologized and gave all three of us some time. I was in disbelief. I didn't know what to do, so I just stood quiet and tried to reason what had happened. It wasn't that long ago we saw our baby dancing on that very screen, I wanted to say it had to be a mistake and the tools weren't plugged in correctly. I wanted to just find a way to make him/her come back and dance for us again.
The doctor came in and gave us the same speech about how many families go through this and not to get worried, maybe start worrying if it happens a third and a fourth time. Too late, we were already worried. There was even talk of surgery to remove baby if things didn't proceed naturally. We didn't talk much this time, it was harder on both of us, I know. That could have been the darkest moment we've ever had together.
We cried, we made those sad phone calls, we worried, we doubted, we held each other.
I haven't brought this up until now, but one thing that helped carry me/us through this was the thought that both of the babies we lost are in heaven and if I live my life correctly then I'll be able to see them someday. I think I told my dad, who is a preacher, that what can I do if the Lord wants to keep them with him, who am I to argue? I'm not going to ever blame God, I think of it as a prize, a trophy even, that if I run this race and live like I'm supposed to as commanded, then I'll see those two again.
I don't know if that was the lesson I was supposed to learn, but learn it I did.
Now we are at 20 weeks in with Baby Dickison number two. We've put work in, blood, sweat, and tears too. We just can't wait to find out tomorrow!
