January 23, 2012
It's been 6 months since Liam died, the same amount of time that he was alive.
I'm especially reflective around significant dates. I go through the series of events that have led me to this moment in my life and it always leaves me stunned in disbelief. How Liam came to be after the doctors gave us a 2% chance at conceiving naturally. How he died after I ruptured PPROM (pre-term premature rupture of the membrane), something that happens in less than 3% of pregnancies. Those are some odds. How my son and I spent 26 days in a hospital bed holding on as tightly as we could to each other while the doctors monitored survival rates, chances of risks and amniotic fluid levels. How one day my baby was safe in my belly and the next I was helplessly birthing him into the world only to die. It's been so much to process, so much to absorb and accept. 6 months after my son's death and I still go about my days wondering what happened? What on earth happened?
Next week I start my second cycle of IVF. My new IVF protocol is more aggressive since the first cycle failed miserably, and yes, the doctor gave us our chances for success. But I know better now. I know that it will either work or it won't. I know that while I put my faith in doctors and technology, some things are just out of our control. There are no guarantees in science, just as there are no guarantees in life.
So we take everything we know, and everything we will never know, we hold each others hand and we take the next step.