EDITOR’S UPDATE: The Wannabe Mom contacted us this afternoon, and let us know that, thanks to your generosity, she has already raised more than $500 for Crisis Nursery! She asked us to post this message:
Our goal is now $,1000 because we blew through that $500 goal within a few hours of this post being published. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I really feel the love. Reaching a goal of $1,000 is really going to make the kids at Crisis Nursery feel the love, too. — The Wannabe Mom
by The Wannabe Mom
I’ve had my fair share of miscarriages.
Most of my pregnancies ended before they began. But this summer I actually carried a baby in my belly for a few weeks, and my doctor gave us an actual due date.
March 25, 2011.
Today is my due date. Our little baby – conceived last summer — was due today.
When I realized this earlier in the week, I asked my hubby what we should do. What’s the rule? What’s normal? Is it OK to celebrate your dead baby’s birthday? Should we eat cake? Should we have a toast? Should we tell anyone what today is or what today means to us?
He shrugged his shoulders and smiled. There are no rules. There is no normal. He thought we should do it up right.
So in true Wannabemom fashion, I’m wearing a sequined dress and a little red lipstick tonight.
My hubby and I are memorializing. We’re celebrating. And we’re paying it forward.
Tonight there will be red velvet cupcakes, because I’m sure red-velvet-cupcake-love is a dominant trait. And any baby of mine would have loved the good cream cheese frosting.
Tonight there will be bubbly. I’m pouring a really nice bottle I’ve been saving since our wedding. The plan was to pop the cork after the birth of our first on our first night home from the hospital. But it just feels right to do it now, on the due date of our first. I know I’m playing favorites — and that’s considered bad mothering — but this little baby needs to feel the love, too.
We’re celebrating the baby we lost. We loved that baby very much. And yes, we’re sad. But we’re also hopeful. That little baby gave us hope, because we did get pregnant. We know it can happen for us again.
We’re celebrating our infertility journey and all we’ve been though, the good, the bad and the ugly. It’s high-time we reminisce a little. Laugh a little. Cry a little. Appreciate it all–a little.
We’re celebrating how we’re still standing. Both of us are still standing.
We’re celebrating by making a donation to Crisis Nursery — paying it forward, as they say. I’m inviting all of you to join us in making a donation to this very deserving organization in honor of our little baby’s birthday.
If you aren’t familiar with this magical place in Urbana, I would encourage you to visit their website. They do good things for babies, kids and families in our community and their organization is going to suffer close to $70,000 in state budget cuts next year.
Please check out my Wannabemom’s Crisis Nursery First Giving page . Our goal is $500 — the folks at Crisis Nursery assure me that amount can do big things for the little ones and families they serve. And if we raise more…well, that would just be the cream cheese frosting on my red-velvet cupcake.
I’m nervous to type that last paragraph because I know how asking for donations can be perceived, and I’m hyper-sensitive of offending any of you. But I’m asking anyway, because I love babies and kids.
And I think you all probably love babies and kids too. I’m asking because I love this organization. And I think if you read about what they do for our community you will love them, too. I’m asking because every little bit helps. And if my little story raises a little money for a really good cause, I can feel really good about March 25, 2011.
Today is a special day. We want to do it up right. It means so much to us to turn our sadness and tears into a happy little gift for a happy little place all of us — moms, soon-to-be-moms and wannabemoms — in Chambana should appreciate.
Happy birthday to the sweet little baby we lost. Thanks for helping us memorialize and celebrate.
Red velvet cupcakes, bubbly cheers, a few tears–and lots of love to all of you.