On Halloween, 2006, Jamie and I nervously and excitedly went to our first prenatal appointment. I was 10 weeks pregnant, so it was a long, anxious wait to know for sure that our first baby was growing and all was well. Two very important people in my life had just had miscarriages in the months before, so I was especially nervous.
After filling out paperwork and discussing my health, the doctor told me to lay back so we could hear the heartbeat. She moved the wand around in different spots around my belly. A few minutes went by...nothing. She looked at me and said, "I'm so sorry, I just can't pick it up." My own heart sank, and I shot Jamie a look with my eyes that meant, "I can't believe this is happening to us, too."
The receptionist scheduled an ultrasound at the local hospital, and gave me a bag of new patient goodies with the words, "You should take these just in case you are still pregnant." Her tone implied I was not.
We went right to the hospital, and while we were in the waiting room, my mother called my cell phone. Our immediate families were the only ones who knew we were expecting, and my mom wanted to hear how the big appointment went. I answered the phone and burst into tears. "There's no heartbeat. There's no heartbeat," I cried.
As we waited what felt like hours (but was less than one), my mom came in the hospital waiting room, too. She is a teacher, and she had gotten a quick substitute for her students to be with me and Jamie for support.
When we were called in to the ultrasound room, I was so scared. This was it, we'd have an answer.
A few minutes later, a picture of a little baby with a giant head came up on the screen, and I saw and heard a loud, strong heartbeat! I couldn't believe it, and it was one of the greatest moments of our lives. The ultrasound technician confirmed that the baby was growing perfectly and we could all see that the baby was very much alive. Jamie cried.
We brought the pictures out to my mom with huge smiles spread across our faces.
We returned to work as giddy as kids on Christmas, and my mom went back to her school, where she just had to tell someone. She saw her friend Pat first (who I know very well), and she confided in her all that had happened. Pat, who very much believes in St. Theresa, and prays her novena, said she knew a miracle was about to happen!
She had been upstairs, making copies for her students, and she saw that there were roses on the backs of all the papers she was using. As the St. Theresa legacy goes, Pat knew the unexpected roses meant that the saint was telling her that someone's prayers were being answered right then.
My mom was so touched and told me the story, and we agreed that if the baby was a girl, her middle name should be Rose, to always remember she was our prayer being answered by St. Theresa.
When my co-workers at the time (mostly women) heard I was having a girl, they asked me what I would name her. I said we were not yet sure of the first name, but her middle name would be Rose, and I told them the story of why we chose that.
A few months later, they threw me a nice baby shower at work. As a group gift, they bought me two rose bushes to plant at my house and a coming home outfit for her with roses on it.
As impressed by their generosity as I was, I have to admit, I am horrible with plants. But, we planted them anyway on Mother's Day weekend, 2007. Brenna was born on May 23, and our roses bloomed for the first time when I was in the hospital having her.
Of course, that was all I needed to see when I arrived home, and then they died. Roses are hard enough to care for, but by me? They were as good as dead for a year.
Until Monday - the day we learned of the miscarriage. On Monday, one lonely rose bloomed again, and it has been in full bloom this entire week as Jamie and I accepted the news that this time it was not meant to be.
Even though it is not the news we were hoping to hear, I still believe in the power of St. Theresa and the appearance of roses signifying her presence.
I think the one lonely rose this time bloomed so she could tell us that God is still here and listening.
5 comments:
That was a beautiful story, meghan! That brought tears to my eyes.
What a wonderful story! I was crying through the whole thing. My thoughts are with you all.
OK that's it, I'm not reading your Blog at work anymore. That's 2 days in a row I've cried while reading it. :-P All the best to you and your family... Anne :-)
Meghan,
My thoughts are with you.
What a touching story.
Big Mama J
That was the sweetest story I've ever heard Meghan! ((((hugs))))
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