October 25, 2007 was the day I first saw those coveted 2 lines on a HPT. I have described several times the emotions DH and I felt that day. How we collapsed down on the bathroom floor, tears of joy running down our faces, laughing, hugging each other, not being able to believe what we just saw! Our problems were over! Infertility to us, till then, had meant our inability to conceive on our own. Now we were pregnant! Our problems were definitely over!! 

From then, till today, October 25, 2008 - life has changed, and oh, how life has changed! We have endured pain we could never have imagined. I can't describe the feeling in our hearts when we saw the tiny heartbeat on the ultrasound. And then a few weeks later, when that heart stopped beating, it was almost like our hearts stopped beating too. There were times I felt it physically. Like it was difficult to breathe, and like my heart was physically in pain. There were days when I fell asleep praying that I would not wake up the next day. I cried tears on my way to and from work every day, because I did not want DH or anyone else see the mess that I had become. So I did all my crying alone in the car. There were times tears were so heavy in my eyes, that I couldn't see traffic very well on the freeway. My immediate thought at those times was always "Good - I wish I can have an accident now and die."

Co-workers told me later that they were afraid to say anything to me, afraid to come to my cubicle, and that my face and eyes were always swollen from my crying. I don't even remember. I don't remember seeing myself in the mirror in those days. I don't remember getting dressed for work, or anything else too much. All I remember is absolute grief. Absolute grief. 

Depressed? Yes, I would guess so. 

I woke up this morning, and thought of last year. I had expected today would be painful in many ways. It is, but more than anything, I feel like celebrating the little short life of our daughter. One year ago, today, we got to know of her existence. Since then, she has been a constant in our hearts. Everyday. Every minute. She's there when we fall asleep. She's there when we wake up. Both DH and I feel her. She's right here with us. In spirit, if not in person. 

I'm not feeling very sad today. I'm feeling like I should acknowledge and celebrate my baby's life. I'm hoping that she, along with her little siblings that we lost later, are watching over us. I'm hoping they can send their mommy some "good uterus vibes" and their dadda all the strength he needs to take me through this surgery and recovery, and the upcoming IVF.