My Angels

I mentioned earlier that I have been pregnant (now) 8 times. Seeing as how I have a 5 yr old daughter, and I'm still (yay!) pregnant now, that would mean I've had 6 miscarriages. Yes, 6. You might ask, "You're only 27, how could you possibly have had 6 miscarriages?" Well, I'll tell you. They were not close together, some of them were actually quite spaced out from the others. And as judgemental as you might get about me, my first was when I was 15. I got "knocked up" by the guy that I thought hung the moon. I was in middle school. Still getting used to the fact that I bled from "there" once a month for 8 days. (Even though it had been happening every month for 2 years by then.) Major mistake. But I was going to own up to it. I was going to have my baby, raise it, and take care of it. That's what we do in my family. We learn from our mistakes, and we do what we can to make things right. Abortion gets you a LOT of family trouble, if it's not medically necessary, and adoption is out of the question as well. We care for our own. However, a dispute between me and another person led to me being shoved into the bathroom sink lower abdomen first, followed by the fall afterwards, caused me to miscarry. The second miscarriage I had, I was 19. I was actually trying to get pregnant. The father of this Angel was hoping I would become pregnant as well. But, at this point in time, there was a lot going on, stress levels were high, we were fighting our families and friends to stay together, one thing led to another, and we lost our baby. The third time I got pregnant, I was 21. I carried this one full term. She's my Monster as I lovingly call her, my 5 year old daughter Skyler. How I managed to keep this one, only God can tell you. I went through some pretty wicked shit carrying her, including a kick to the lower abdomen by a martial artist. Yep, you heard me. "Daddy" freaked out when I told him I was pregnant, and he tried to "fix" the problem by kicking me in the stomach so I'd lose this baby too. Thankfully, she's as stubborn as I am. I know I will regret that stubbornness in later years, but for surviving that, I'm thankful. She was born October 14th, at 1:28 PM, weighing in a tiny 6lbs, 19inches. Doctor looked at me and asked where the rest of her was. I had a short labor, lasting 5 hours. I was induced, but my water broke on it's own, in the delivery room. My mother and my sister were in the delivery room with me, watching my daughter make her grand entrance into this world, hair first, of course. She was born with a full head of dark hair, that was about 2 inches long. I tried to save some of it as it fell out, but wound up losing the bag it was in along with a good portion of other "newborn" things during a move. The fourth time I was pregnant, I lost that baby 06/09/06, due to falling off the porch trying to go outside during a thunderstorm and put our dog back in her dog house. Needless to say, when I fell off the porch, I was holding the dog, and not only miscarried, but fractured all my ribs on my right side. That Angel I called my Miracle Baby, due to the near impossibility of his father's ability to conceive, due to him being born with his testicles still in his stomach. Like I said, Miracle Baby. My next angel was lost 17months later, in November of '07. I don't know why I lost that one. It didn't make any sense to me, the Angels father, or the doctors. The most recent two angels are the hardest to talk about for me. I lost one on 2-21-2009, the day my (at the time) fiancee (baby's father) told me he was leaving me, and the second 08-24-10, shortly after we decided to try a relationship again. He never knew about the first baby. I never told him, until we met up again in '10. I didn't feel he deserved to know about the baby, and then due to all the stress, and the unstable condition I was in, and losing my fiancee to another woman, and everything else that was happening, I lost it. That one affected me the worst. Even more than the father of my first Angel getting on his knees in front of me as I'm on the ground crying, and asking me if I was sure the baby was his. The second angel I lost to him, he knew about. He was the one that suspected I was pregnant, long before I did. He was right. We have no idea why I lost that one either. But I did. And we cried together. This is the story of my children. I love them all, and I will, forever more. I miss them more than anyone will ever know, but I'm just supposed to "suck it up, and get over it."