This morning, after my check up, I took a ride up the elevator back to the 4th floor. That familiar door. I had emailed Meagan that I was going to stop by. After all, she was our biggest cheerleader, I felt the need to keep her updated.
But I also had apprehensions. I remember what it was like sitting in that office. Watching pregnant woman come and go. Although I know they were all high risk patients, it still stung. I didn't want to be like that to someone. But I wanted to whisper to them to not give up hope. Its ok to feel bitter and angry, and hate me all you want. But please just don't give up on yourself.
I think that desire can be overshadowed with feelings of bitterness and guilt. I know it often got hidden deep inside of me. But I'm convinced that I never let it go. It was hard to bring it back to the surface sometimes. To think about all the good things that you wanted, when all life what handing you was bad. Then life changes.
There was only one couple in the waiting room when I got there. And when Meagan came out to see me, they were at the reception counter. I was glad that they were right there. By the time they came back, we were done oohing and ahhing over the ultrasound photo, and we both needed to get back to work.
I'm not one to flaunt anything, ever. I'm grateful for where we are and how far we've come. You just can't give up hope.
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