The Unexpected Life

(TW: miscarriage, infertility)

Sometimes I find myself having just waved goodbye to my 4 year old son as he boards the bus, staring at two dozing babies and a sleeping dog and wonder “how did I get here?” 

The dog is an easy answer – I married a man who I’m fairly certain loves dogs more than he likes most people. I knew going into this union that a dog would be in my future. Although I did originally stipulate that if (when) we got a dog, I wanted it to be the kind that doesn’t shed. So of course, we ended up with a golden retriever. The sheddiest of all shedding creatures known to mankind. But, like much in my life, how we got our dog wasn’t what I expected. Kent received a message from his aunt about a family looking to rehome a 2 year old golden retriever due to personal circumstances that prevented them from being able to care for the dog properly. While he tried to pretend that there was a chance we might not like this dog, I knew that pup was coming home with us from the moment we read that first message. Enter: Cooper. 

The twins are a bit harder to explain. But let me back up a bit.

First Comes Love… 

I moved to Ottawa for university and stuck around after I graduated. Like many twenty-somethings, I looked to start my career, build friendships, and hoped to find a partner to start a life with. Kent and I were friends for much of this time, both dating other people along the way. I wish I could tell you what changed, but for whatever reason, we finally found ourselves dating each other. It was great! We had lots of fun together, enjoying getting to know each other in a new way.

Then Comes Marriage…?

And then, in a seriously unexpected (for me) twist, Kent broke up with me. 

I didn’t see it coming and was heartbroken. I had been pretty sure I was going to marry this guy until all of a sudden, that option was apparently off the table. While I wouldn’t wish that situation on anyone else, I know looking back that it was the best thing for our relationship in the long run. 

During the time we were apart (because, spoiler alert, we got back together), we both worked through some stuff that needed to be dealt with. Some of it was things we needed to figure out individually, and some of it was working to establish a better foundation for our relationship. We were able to come back to each other better, and our relationship is stronger for it. 

So, on wave-soaked rocks in Cuba in 2016, Kent got down on one knee and asked me to be his wife. 

Then Comes a Baby in a Baby Carriage!

About 2 years after we said “I do!” we decided the time was right to try for a baby. Truth be told, although I knew I really wanted to be a mom, I wasn’t so sure I was ready. But I finally realized I would probably never actually feel prepared and so I made a deal with God. Basically, I told God I would trust him to not let me get pregnant until I was ready to be a mom. I don’t know if that theology stands up, but thankfully God is kind, gracious and patient toward us.

We got pregnant fairly quickly and were excited about the prospect of becoming parents in just 9 short months (I could feel excited because getting pregnant was a sign from God that he thought I was ready…see how that works?). We went to our first ultrasound, excited to see a black and white, grainy picture that a tech would assure us was our beautiful bundle of joy. 

Or Maybe Not…

I will never forget the sinking feeling in my stomach and my aggressively pounding heart when the ultrasound tech told me I should schedule an appointment to see my doctor that day. I knew something was terribly wrong. We found out that there were concerns that we had lost the baby. I was told to watch for bleeding, and was sent for bloodwork to see if my hormone levels were still rising. 

We were processing the likely scenario that we had lost this baby throughout that day. But evening came, and we had to change gears. 

It’s (not) My Party, and I’ll Cry If I Want To

One of my good friends had recently been married overseas, and was having a wedding reception/party in town that evening. I loved this friend (still do) and wanted to be there to celebrate this huge life moment with her. And I also wanted to stay home, curl up on the couch and continue to cry.

Numbly, we got ourselves dressed up and drove to the party venue. I remember sitting in the car, talking to my parents on speaker phone with Kent. We’d kept our immediate family pretty closely in the loop and my parents had called to check in on us. I cried talking to them, and then wiped away my tears, took some deep breaths, and plastered a smile on my face. 

I am so glad that we chose to celebrate in the midst of our grief. I definitely had to excuse myself to the restroom a few times through that night to fight back tears, but I also got to smile and cheer for my friend as she and her new husband were introduced. I got to dance with her at her wedding, and remember that darkness doesn’t have to be all-encompassing. 

A Beautiful Paradox 

Although I sometimes wish I could have just been happy that night, it is a blessing to have that reminder that we can hold grief and joy simultaneously. That things don’t have to be a dichotomy, one or the other. We can have doubts, and still have faith. We can feel angry and hopeful. Life has a way of being a beautiful paradox.