I must have been about 5 months pregnant when I told my husband I missed music. As a dance teacher I listen to music every single day for at least 5 or 6 hours a day. My husband had come in from teaching, which is also what he does, to play me some Bon Iver and talk to me about the classes. I listened close, it was like the music was getting under my skin and pouring into, soothing, my terrified heart. Tears were falling from my eyes as I could feel the twins move inside me, they probably wanted to dance too. I was in bed, I had been literally lying in bed for 5 months. That’s 150 days of getting up only to shower and go to the bathroom. I have worked from the time I was about 20 years old, so I thought lying in bed and having no muscle in my legs was so tough, and it was. It was a challenge, my pregnancy was so filled with threats, unknowns and fears. But I would have done anything anyone asked me to do for my boys. So bed rest it was, and I knew it would all be worth it in the end. I thought we had a lifetime together. Music? Dance? Love? We could do all that and more, I just thought we had a lifetime for it.
A lifetime of Love.
Little did I know that my pregnancy as hard as it seemed would pale in comparison to the years that followed without my two sons.
Had I only known how short our time together would be.
I would have played them more music, sang to them more. I would have told them I loved them out loud more. I would have held Gael in my arms while he was still alive. I should have held him all the time he was alive.
I thought we had a lifetime together and he only lived for 12 hours.
I held Noah inside of my body all of his life. He didn’t get to take a single breath of air. I was almost 27 weeks pregnant when he died. I could not believe I would never dance around with him, watch him move, open his eyes, smile.
I can still go to that painful moment when I close my eyes and listen to Bon Iver. I can still remember how my heart was being torn apart with fear day by day, But my faith kept me hoping. I was waiting for my lifetime. Hoping for something that would never be but always is.
We think we have a Lifetime, until we Don’t.