The Saturday before Memorial Day last year I was 26 weeks 4 days. I was feeling punky, but we had tickets to see a baseball game in town. We went out to dinner before the game and I remember in the car Hackett was talking to me and I had to close my eyes and lean back in my seat. I couldn't focus. I can't describe how I was feeling, not cramping yet, but my body was in turmoil. I didn't want to ruin our fun, so I pushed forward, even walking into the game from a few blocks away. While we walked I was nervous, but never said anything. Once we sat down at the game I didn't move. I held my belly and tried to hold it together. I was trying to monitor Koen's movement and noticed a decline, but thought I was still feeling him. Not as much, but after talking to the doctor that morning I felt that there was an explanation. Now I wish I had gone to the hospital and not the baseball game. Koen was dying. Dying inside my body and I didn't know. I didn't help him.
That day haunts me. I truly feel like that was the last day Koen was alive. Today, it is once again a Saturday, and once again I am 26 weeks 4 days pregnant, this time with Tobin. Baseball happened again today, but this time Opening Day for Hackett. He played his first game of the season and pitched for the first time. I missed it. It hurt my mama heart to not be there, but am thankful to have Tobin being monitored today. Thankful for the reassurance that he is not slipping away from me. I love my three boys so much, and all three of them are pulling at my heart strings today. Missing two of them dearly and happy that I still have one safely growing inside of me.
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