I have a lot of time to think while I am exercising, in between listening to my music. My bear sits up in the extra bedroom where my treadmill and elliptical are. I was thinking about my bear today and thought I would share the story of Teddy.
In late March of 2006, we were shocked, and very excited to find out I was pregnant again. That meant a sibling closer in age to our son than our daughter is. We were excited! I called the doctor and got a bunch of test and sure enough it confirmed I was pregnant. An ultrasound was scheduled for several weeks later.
Before the ultrasound appointment, we went to a store called Build a Bear. We chose a Border Collie dog for our son and for the new baby we chose the above bear. It is so soft and cuddly and that's why I chose him. So both animals were boxed up in their cardboard homes in preparation for the baby and the boy playing with his.
The night before the ultrasound I just had an uneasy feeling, a feeling of dread actually. My husband and son were both coming to the appointment to see the baby.
We got there and the tech started the Ultrasound, but didn't say a word for several minutes, which I knew was a bit unusual. So I asked her what the heartbeat was--she said she hadn't calculated that yet. Ok, so I asked her about gestational age. She hadn't measured that yet she said.
At that point, I knew. I knew in my heart that this much treasured child was never to be. I started crying. She finally told me she hadn't seen a heartbeat but tried to tell me it might be too early to see a heartbeat. I knew differently though. Our dreams of another child were dashed in an instant. She left the room and came back with the radiologist and he had a look. The results were the same.
We went over to the clinic for my appointment. I cried some more. My doctor was great and so was the nurse. I left that day heartbroken and just waited to miscarry my baby.
It happened at home several weeks later.
So, I occasionally take Teddy out of his box and hold him. And just think about what should have been, and cry. Maybe one day I will be able to look at Teddy and not cry.
I know that wherever I live, Teddy will always be with me in his cardboard home. He'll be there for me to hold and squeeze and remember what could have been.
