Hannah Day

Every year we celebrate Hannah Day on December 22nd. It harbors some painful memories, but also reminds us of the importance of knowing we have to keep going when life gets hard.

There is no joy like new joy,

Experiencing that high for the first time.

And though we'd never met them,

We loved them.

Grandparents and friends,

Coworkers and classmates,

All celebrated alike,

At the news of this new life.

And yet a short time later,

I felt a little ill.

I worked at a hospital,

And went to the emergency room,

You were no longer there.

I was no longer called mom in expected excitement.

I was a statistic.

I was 1 in 4,

And you were never again a source of joy.

Life was expected to move on,

Without you.

My mother cared for me,

Like I was again a child,

Through the loss of what was supposed to be our own.

It felt more official,

After the surgery,

That our first was gone for good.

My birthday was October 9th,

But there was no celebrating.

For the first time,

We truly understood what it was like,

For life to be unfair.

The most joyous year,

Was not filled with new life,

Or happiness,

Or extra gifts under the tree.

It was us,

My husband,

And me.

In less anticipation than we'd have liked to have given,

If it had been our choice,

We announced your beginning.

Everyone said they were happy for us,

But we saw what was behind the smiles.

The "what if it happens again?"

"Why didn't she wait longer to announce?"

"Don't get too excited."

They loved us the same,

And they all meant well.

I can't say I blamed them,

For their hesitancy.

I started bleeding,

I knew it was over.

Life had knocked us down again,

And I lost my faith that day.

The ultrasound technician's face said it all.

There was no hope,

Life was unfair,

Nothing was fair.

My doctor prayed,

And told us to stay positive,

Which is always easier said than done.

You were at that point,

Diagnosed as a blighted ovum

Stay positive for who?

Lie to who?

We only had ourselves,

And there was no child,

To convince the fairy tale was real,

Or that it was still continuing.

Yet on a fateful day,

December 22nd, 2014

We found you.

We saw you in jelly bean form,

We heard your heart beat,

And we believed in you again.

One whole year

A year ago,

We had experienced our loss.

Yet somehow this year,

Was full of joy,

Of hope,

Of belief.

And as I worked,

Still at the hospital,

I was reprimanded,

For my scrubs being too long.

I looked at the woman,

And I said,

"I'm 5 feet tall,

And six months pregnant,

WHAT DO YOU EXPECT ME TO DO?"

For a moment,

After work,

We breathed in enough,

To be able to laugh it out.

And yet in another moment,

We almost lost your father,

As he cut the fruit pizza,

Much too slowly.

And in July,

"You will" became,

"You are."

Hannah gave us peace.

We no longer needed hope.

And it was on day two,

That you forever,

Became a daddy's girl.

Then at two days old,

Another setback.

A hole in your heart,

A heart attack for us,

And another fear that we may lose you.

And yet again,

We found ourselves smiling,

As your father explained,

He had not brought the car seat.

For he thought,

"When they're that little,

Can't you just hold them?"

After many bottles,

And diapers,

And sleepless nights,

You turned three.

And on your original due date,

We were told,

The hole in your heart had healed.

At that same time,

So had ours.

We celebrate every day,

The way you came to us.

We are proud every day,

Of you you are.

And we love you every day,

Because Hannah Day,

Is every day you're in our arms.

And as I ugly cry writing this,

I hope you know,

We'll never stop telling your story.

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Thank you for making me lucky enough,

To be your mother.

And thank you,

To our family and friends,

For your love,

And for your support,

During our hardest times.

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