Sonya MG

Fore Word:

I struggle to share this story simply because, in every way, it is mine. I know that many women [and families] have faced this or something similar and while I empathize and relate, I still argue that my grief is different; it is raw and it is disheartening. Maybe even if not true. 

Yes, I understand we all face something extraordinarily incapacitating through our lives, maybe more than once. I once overheard a man telling his son, “Life is not kind. It will either make you wish you were dead, or it will kill you.” From where I write, nothing seems more truthful or sincere. In that way, we are not unique -- it is all relative. This world is vast and my small blips of heart break do not measure on any significant scale. Does that mean I should be thankful it isn’t worse? Does that mean that because I’m young and have many years ahead to “try again” that I should be happy right now?

I digress. I arrived at the conclusion that if I decided to write and publish my story for others to read, I would take a simple approach: sharing this for the purpose of healing and also sharing this without regard to the thoughts and feelings of others, because while I don’t mean to sound harsh, no one reading will ever be able to place this feeling--not unless you’ve been here. I pray you never know. 

So, I’m writing this, I suppose, because it is a milestone in my life and one I now hold closest and dearest to me. I hope that whatever you decide to take from this, it’s not in the specifics of “what,” but in the idea of love and strength. 

Lastly, I pray that my words find you well and in good spirits. Know that, while it took me awhile, I’m finally out of the storm and have not cried in a couple of weeks. If anything should trigger water-works, it will be writing this. Still, many positive thoughts for you and your family. 

xo - Sonya

This is a proclamation to the love I never knew I had. It is my greatest blessing of all. 

I should start by saying I hadn’t announced his coming because it was a very personal matter for Alex and I. We discussed it in length and decided, together, that we wouldn’t post on social media but instead call/text our closest friends and family. 

As a bit of background:

Alex and I have been together roughly 6-7 years now. Even so, we’re very different when it comes to traditional relationships. We have a lot of trust in one another and I think we both value our independence and self-identity in more ways than I can say. Maybe that’s why we’ve never really felt pressured to get married or have children.

Still, in late July 2016, I ended up with a damn positive pee stick. Yes, it happened by chance against the greatest of odds (99.9% to be exact because,  yes, I had an IUD) and I shit myself that day because WHAT THE HELL?! I’m supposed to grow a human and raise it now? Naturally, I immediately thought about the alternatives. Before you start getting all judgmental, refer to my above proclamation. This story is not for you! Yes, I considered an abortion. I’m 26 years old with a great career and in committed relationship and I didn’t feel ready. Hey, I even was responsible and on birth control.... and I’m about to make this post political, so I’ll stop. 

Anyway, obviously, we had a long talk and Alex being the chipper, happy-go-lucky, positive specimen that he is made me feel a million times better about my end decision. We would follow through and accept this miracle.

As time passed I learned to fear it, accept it, appreciate it and then, cherish it. It probably took me longer than most, but I got there. I had my family’s unwavering support and love. It wasn’t easy getting used to the idea of becoming a mama, but eventually I found myself sincerely ecstatic of all to come.

After we learned about our pregnancy...

We prepared. A friend of ours gave us a few books on pregnancy that we dissected in the first day. What I mean by that is we sat around our living room gawking and laughing at the awareness of pregnancy and childbirth. I have a good question: who in the hell creates those diagrams in these books? They’re incredibly detailed for such a small cartoon. Too weird. I watch birthing videos on YouTube, because I knew I was going to need to prepare for that MONTHS in advance... y’all no amount of preparation will make you prepared for squeezing a child out of your vagina. NONE. Alex learned some birthing yoga poses, which resulted in a new game we played called, “Do you even fucking trust me?” I wish I had the time to describe that one to you. ;) 

Alex bought the entire box set of Harry Potter (mine are torn to shreds) and all of the Dr. Seuss books. We’d agreed early on to be strong advocates of reading and steer clear of technological distractions. We decided on a gender neutral room because DESTROY GENDER ROLES! Again, these were our methods and our choices. It was a journey exploring these topics together and figuring out what styles we would embody.

We went a little fucking nuts, but it was fun. Every day that passed we smiled more. We talked more to my swelling belly and about our futures together. We knew that planning didn’t mean we were going to get everything right, but we were -- by all intents and purposes -- out of our element. We were just having fun with the process. 

We found out it was a boy...

When we found it was a boy, I began writing him letters. I tend to joke around too much when speaking aloud, but when I write, it’s my soul on paper. I wanted my son to know what I was thinking in those early days. I wanted to be open about my fears and reservations, because I still had so many.

I told my son about my good friend Jack who passed away in July. I told my son about the heartaches that this world would surely present him, but that in the end, he’d be strong enough for it. I was positive of that. 

My world started to change drastically. When I felt my little boy kick inside me for the first time, I became a mom. I knew I’d be me through and through, but there was this whole other part of me that I never recognized, never known. The wandering, introvert with a penchant for disappearing, the writer, the goal-setting go-getter, the serious worker was there--but I had this passion to be less serious, more of me ... if only, unapologetically. If I was to show my son the way through, I had to know myself in all forms and smile all the while. At 26, it’s hard to say whether that’s possible.

I think through everything, we stayed true to ourselves though. We became better partners to one another, as well. Alex was there to pick me up when I was riddled with self-doubt and he always found a way to make me laugh about how badly we would, undoubtedly, fuck up. I think once I accepted that, I became more calm, more composed. Crazy how we need to be reminded not to take things so seriously. 

Afterall, you’ll never make it out of life alive. Right? 

Then it all changed. 

Our journey took a sudden and unexpected turn and from our hardest moment I share our pain. This is for my son, because he’s so special and he deserves words in this world, no matter how brief. At 12:34am on 11/22/2016, after 14 long, difficult hours, no pain meds and with Alex, my mom and my two treasured friends Anna & Justine by my side, I gave birth to the most beautiful, precious little boy in the universe. He was perfect. I’m forever seeking answers, but one I will never have is why we had to watch him leave just as quickly and unexpectedly as he came. While we feel anger and sadness in every second, I’ve also learned the true power of strength, hope and especially [if not definitely] love. It has been our guide from the beginning and through this heartache. It will be my guide in the years to come. 

My brother and dad were there at a moments notice and I was surrounded by the comfort of my family and friends. I love them and appreciate them for that more than I can ever say. I received flowers and well wishes from everyone. My cousin Kristina gave me my sunflowers, the only sunshine in my hospital room that day. I can’t tell you what it meant. But, still... it was my little boy’s presence that brought me an indescribable peace and I will treasure it forever. 

I feel so much gratitude for every minute no matter how brief. I send my love to every mother who has faced this. It is not easy to say goodbye to someone you’ve never met, but whom you love unconditionally nonetheless. I thank the doctor’s and especially the delivering nurse for their care. He made the hardest moment of my life a little easier. 

And for my son: we love you with all of our hearts and souls. You are our Angel and may your colors light our way. Always. Beautiful boy. <3

- Sonya M.G.