You can probably imagine that June 24th - a day that was supposed to be happy, our daughter's birthday - has now become a day that will forever be remembered along with a string of "what ifs" and "could have beens" and "should have beens." We knew going into it that Rosa was going to have to fight and probably fight hard in order to survive... but in my heart, I really thought that she had a chance. We were completely blindsided by her fetal demise... even though we really had no right to be blindsided... the doctors told us all along that it was unfortunately a possibility.
So today is here. It's the day that should have been everything that it is not. We should have been in Philadelphia right now by Rosa's bedside as she fought and kicked ass and survived. We should have been starting a new chapter in our happily ever after. We should have been... but we are not...
Instead, the day started out with a restless night's sleep. I tossed and turned through most of the night. My legs felt so antsy that I remember actually kicking and almost running in my bed. I felt like I was going to jump out of my skin! I needed to MOVE!!! Mocha was also restless...
It really is remarkable to me the bond that Mocha and Rosa shared... and still share. Call me crazy, but I truly believe that they are connected on a spiritual level. Mocha just knew when things weren't right with Rosa. She sensed that Rosa was there. She snuggled my bump on several occasions, and it seemed that whenever Rosa took a turn for the worse, Mocha would have sympathy pains (causing us to run to the vet).
The night before we went to the hospital the last time, Mocha was restless. John distinctly recalls Mocha laying on my bump in the middle of the night and swears that was the moment that Rosa probably passed... I wouldn't put it past her to have known. When we returned home from the hospital, Mocha jumped up on the couch, sniffed my belly, then jumped down and turned her back to me. Is it possible that she knew Rosa was gone?? I really think she did.
So going back to today. It was three in the morning when I heard a THUMP. Mocha fell out of our bed :( Poor pup! I picked her up, and we cuddled and fell back to sleep. When we woke up this morning, she was limping. We took her to the vet and thankfully she's going to be alright, but she sprained her leg. My poor baby!
I got to thinking... and it just seems like more than a coincidence that Mocha got injured on THIS day. On Rosa's day. Perhaps a sign?
|Taken just 10 minutes away from Kristen's house on June 23, 2015|
Between the storm, the literal road block on our route to the hospital, and Mocha's injury, I'm calling it a sign. Rosa is telling me that today was not our day. I will never know for certain if she would have survived had she had a chance to have her surgeries. But I know for sure that if she was born today like she should have been then she would have felt so much pain.
I so wish that things could have been different for our dear, sweet Rosa Kimberly. But I am thankful that she never felt pain. That I was able to endure all of the physical pain for her. That John & I, along with all our friends and family, will shoulder the emotional toll of losing her, and that she'll never have to know what pain feels like.
I am thankful that Rosa Kimberly only ever knew the loving embrace of my womb.
She only ever knew the sound of my heart. She never knew pain.