Remington Ellarose Hoppe
August 3rd, 2016 17:11
eight pounds, nine ounces, 21 inches long.
When I married Dan i knew that I wanted to have babies young. We got married in July of 2015, and in September of that year we had lost our first baby. But in November, we had two pink lines.
I remember being happy, and also scared. I knew before the two lines popped up.
Our first appointment when we saw you jumping around like a little bean. I had no idea the love I would soon know.
I kept wondering what you would look like; daddy’s red hair, mommy’s blonde hair. Daddy’s green eyes, mommy’s blue eyes. Who would you look more like? Or would you be a perfect combination of the two of us.
How amazing is it that I made the most perfect baby with my absolute best friend?
February 13th, 2016
The day things became so much more real…. You were a G I R L
Daddy and I both thought we were having a boy, all the old wives tales told us you were a boy, but yet you were a girl and we were SO happy. You smiled at us, you were perfect, we were head over heels in love with a little girl we would soon meet.
20 week scan
This day was hard, this day tested me, this day broke me, and ultimately made me feel like i have failed you.
It sounds scary, especially to a young mom, alone, with an ultrasound tech that isn’t talking to you and when she is makes you feel stupid because of your age.
She didn’t talk much to me during the scan but i was beaming looking at you in there. I had been feeling you move for a month now and it was amazing to feel you move and see the movement on the screen.
When the scan was over the tech left but told me to stay and then a doctor came in… she told me there was an abnormality on the scan. Before telling me what that abnormality was she told me that everything will be okay and it can be fixed. ” WHAT?! What can be fixed.” I thought. I looked up from my phone and the picture I had just sent to your dad saying that you were doing amazing.
“She has clubbed feet”
My mind raced with a million questions but I couldn’t say any of them. I just sat there blank, listening as she told me a million things that I was in no position to process right then. I walked out, it was all just motions walking to the car. I told your dad he needed to call me and I told him, He said “It could be worse” which is true but in that moment I was scared, hurt, alone, sad. I called my mom, your mimsy, bawling. I told her what was wrong and she told me she knows a baby with clubbed feet and she is doing just fine. I said I felt like it was my fault, like I did something wrong.
I remember thinking, and feeling bad to this day for thinking “I won’t like my baby, or want to look at her feet.”
God doesn’t give us anything we cannot handle. That is what you taught me. You are strong, You are amazing, and You’ve showed me so much.
A week late, 16 hours of labor, 8 unmedicated, 4 hours of pushing, with no progress. I had failed you once again.
I didn’t want them to vacuum you out, I didn’t want them to use forceps. I said “no I already feel bad about her feet.” So off for a C-section we went.
I wasn’t responding to the numbing medicine even though I had an epidural. They had to put me to sleep and your dad wasn’t allowed in the room. I remember frantically asking “Will her dad get to see her” over and over. Then the last thing I heard was “when she goes under we have one minute to get the baby”.
I woke up nearly four hours after you were born, confused. It was like a movie waking up with blurry vision to see your dad standing there looking at me.
He showed me pictures of you, I was in and out of sleep. He told me your feet were “pretty bad” but I didn’t care, and I think that was the first time I didn’t care about your feet, or what they looked like. You were my perfect baby.
And there you were, MY little baby girl. Perfect. This is the story of You. You who changed me for the better.
Here’s to you my love.
To the Moon and Back