Thanksgiving

I have a lot to be thankful for. I have a wonderful husband. I have a beautiful home, that we were lucky enough to purchase in this terrible economy for a price that we could afford without straining our budgets. And of course, more than anything else, I am thankful for my children. I am thankful that they are here, in spite of all the odds that were against them being here. I'm thankful for their good health, even though we've had a couple of scares. I'm thankful that NB continues to learn and thrive and to show everyone how non disabling a disability can be. I'm thankful that I was given the chance to have one more child, and that for the time being, that the chance has proven successful.

With so much to be thankful for, you might find it hard to believe that there was a time when Thanksgiving sucked hard core. It was in fact one of the lowest points in my life to date, and has put every Thanksgiving since under its shadow, to the point where I wish I could fast forward through the damn holiday completely.

Yeah, it's got family. But it is the same exact family that I'll have over my house for the following Sunday to celebrate the twins' birthday. Sure, it's got food, but I've never liked turkey, and we've got Christmas coming up in a few weeks anyhow. And so far the holiday just baffles the kids. All this food and family...but it's not somebody's birthday? What, no balloons or cake?

Seven years ago on Halloween I found out I was pregnant for the first time ever. A few days before Thanksgiving we found out that the pregnancy was no longer viable, and in spite of the fact that my HCG levels kept stubbornly rising, it was a 'missed miscarriage'. By Thanksgiving day I was no longer pregnant, but my body didn't know it. The smell of the turkey cooking was unbelievably nauseating. I would have loved to knock back a few to numb the pain, but alcohol tasted like metal in my mouth and made me gag. On top of feeling pregnant when I wasn't any longer, I was bleeding, aching, and tired. All I wanted was to curl up with a heating pad and weep...for days and days. In retrospect, I wish I had. Who cares what my family would think about my absence? If I had, maybe Thanksgiving wouldn't be the doomed holiday it has felt like ever since...even in the midst of my good fortune.

Please let this new and fragile pregnancy continue so I can look at Thanksgiving as a time of joy, and not the beginning of the end. And please bless my fellow infertile travelers who are pregnant the same peace of mind.