We're All Living Dangerously

The saying goes that hindsight is 20/20. I even studied this effect in my undergrad psychology classes. With the wisdom gained from experiencing an event, we look back and wonder what we should have seen beforehand. I say "should have seen" with the notion of what could have been done to prevent it from happening because interestingly enough, we seem to conduct this post-mortem for bad events but not really for good ones. No one wins the lottery and then second-guesses the actions that led them to becoming a newly-minted millionaire.

There was no way we could have known that we would lose our daughter, and yet there are moments when I look back to things I remember saying, or how ridiculously excited I was to have a girl, and it is hard not to beat myself up.

I remember the day we went for the ultrasound to find out the gender of our second child. I was almost too scared to hope for a girl. Seeing how much my son favors his father, I so wanted my own mini partner-in-crime. I thought surely God would be too busy to grant me such a wish, but He did! I was so happy, I literally cried. And now, months later, bereft of my daughter and in my ugly moments, I think back to this moment and wonder why we were teased so cruelly.

Knowing I was carrying a girl perhaps made a trying pregnancy somewhat more bearable. It was hard to keep up with my very active son as my belly grew bigger and bigger and the summer heat and humidity grew relentless. I became quite swollen and was often very uncomfortable. Under these circumstances, I remember one evening when I was standing in my neighbor's driveway while our kids played. I'd heard a neighbor up the street had suddenly lost their five month old to SIDS, and my heart broke for her. Hailey was moving in my belly at the time, and running my hand over her to soothe her, I remember telling my neighbor I couldn't imagine how to survive losing a baby after growing it within my body for nine months. Especially when the pregnancy had been as trying as mine was with Hailey. In my small moments, I wonder if the powers at be looked down at me and shook their heads as if to say, "If only she knew what she has coming."

There are moments like this and a million more. The joy I felt at picking out little outfits for our daughter. The time we spent decorating the nursery. I wonder if I was naive. Why did I dare to hope that we could be that happy? That my life could finally be as perfect as I'd ever pictured it could be?

I was adrift in this self-loathing when I spoke to my mother recently. She asked me a question that knocked me back into a healthier perspective. "Imagine if we had foresight and not just hindsight? Imagine if we could see it all coming? Would people still dare to live their lives?"

If I had known that we would lose our daughter due to a freakishly rare genetic condition that my husband and I are both carriers for, would I have dared to marry my husband? Would we have dared to have children? I would like to think the answer to both of those questions would still be "YES", but there is no way to know for sure.

The thing is, we are all living and loving dangerously. None of us know what will happen tomorrow. None of it is guaranteed. I can't dismiss the hope I had for my pregnancy with Hailey --- hope is what gives us purpose. It was not foolish. And as for trying to figure out how to live after losing a child...well clearly that is a work in progress. As I've blogged about before, some days are easier than you might expect and others are every bit the hell you might imagine. This week, I've been trying to accustom myself to the thorn of pain that has lodged itself deeply into my heart. I seem to carry it with me alongside the dreams I had for my daughter and the memories I try to keep alive.

But this week, through my journey with Hailey and with some help from my Mom, I've realized that I will continue to live and love dangerously, and to not mock myself for having hope.