A letter to my little personal Star
My dear baby girl,
Your story started almost 10 years ago, when I met your Daddy. We were both doing a scholar exchange program in Crete, Greece. He was the most attractive Spaniard of the Erasmus group. I was an odd mix of Belgian nationality, born in Algeria but with main residence in the French Alps.
Our relationship was not meant to last. But thanks to the magic of Internet, we stayed in touch after our Erasmus ended. I went to visit his stunning homeland of Andalusia. He came to see me in Belgium where I was finishing my Master degree, then in France to meet my family. Our love was growing, and I decided to trade my final practical experience from Nigeria to Cordoba, Andalusia.
Do you want to know something funny? When I decided to do an Erasmus exchange, I got to choose between Las Palmas, Spain and Crete, Greece. I chose Crete because I was not really motivated to learn Spanish. The joke is not lost on me.
We happily lived for 6 years in Cordoba, quickly moving together and starting our lives as young adults, first jobs, first apartment, with its routine, and everything, positive and not so positive, that it may imply.
Despite a very rich and fulfilling social life, surrounded by friends and family, we finally got too many professional disappointments and realized that the economic crisis in Spain had such an impact on society that we couldn’t see how to get out of surviving mode as we were earning just enough to pay for our rent and food. We wanted more from life. And our love was so big that we were now eager to split it and share it with new members of the family.
We moved to the French Alps, in Grenoble, close to my parents, brother and sisters. In less than two years, we were already able to become landlords of a nice little house that we felt like calling home immediately. In the meantime, I was still not getting pregnant, so we started seeing doctors and specialists of fertility. I was under pretty strong hormonal treatments for more than 2 years, during which we had to go through a painful miscarriage.
But we didn’t give up and decided to go forward with in-vitro fertilization. The process itself was pretty successful as we got three beautiful embryos, that could be frozen. We called them our “three Copos” as an inside joke. Copos being a frozen food brand from Cordoba. But my body was tired with all of the treatments and reacted badly to this last one, so we had to give it some rest before being able to transplant the first embryo.
Early in May, after going through lots of check-ups, we got the greenlight and our OB-Gyn transplanted one Copos in my womb. Then came the eternal waiting to know if it had worked. One first positive result. Then another one, and a last one. I’m not going to lie here, between every official blood pregnancy test, I literally peed on every pregnancy stick test I could find on the market. Every single one was positive. We still couldn’t believe it was true. We had to wait for week 8 for a first early ultrasound scan.
But in week 6, while at the office, I started bleeding. We were scared to death and ran to the ER. We could see you on the screen for the first time. Everything seemed to go well, but you were still too small to hear your heartbeat. After two weeks of complete rest for me, came the first official ultrasound scan. You were still there with a strong heartbeat and every parameter in the green. We were so happy! We could finally tell the world that we were expecting.
The first trimester carried his typical symptoms and I probably spent more time barfing in the toilet than anywhere else. But do you know what? I didn’t mind, as I thought it meant you were still with me.
Second official ultrasound scan at 12 weeks, you were simply perfect. Strong heartbeat, we could already see the shape of your body, your little legs and arms moving around. We couldn’t believe how lucky we were and you can’t imagine how happy you made us. Doctors still ordered me a quiet life, so we planned a nice small holiday, at a three-hour drive from our home.
At the end of July, during my last afternoon at job before our summer break, I felt something funny and looked at my legs. Two little rivers of blood were running down to my summer sandals. Another run to the ER with your Daddy.
The ultrasound scan showed a placental abruption, but there you were, stronger than ever. I could breathe again. I stayed overnight at the hospital and was sent back home the day after with a complete rest medical order. No trip for us, but we didn’t care as you were our only priority. Weeks went by. I was staying home all of the time, lying down as much as possible. I received lots of visits, especially from my mom and sisters. I spent most of that time on the Internet, Googling for everything that would be the best for you. We started buying a few things, preparing the nursery… I was speaking to you a lot. We had two more ultrasound scans during that time, and we learned that you were a little girl. You were my dream come true.
Then came that day at the end of August. I had a home midwife appointment. I was excited about it as I had lots of questions, as always. Our midwife took his Doppler, but couldn’t find a heartbeat. I was not worried as I knew my placenta was anterior. He told me we should go to our clinic to have an ultrasound scan. I called your Daddy, letting him know what was happening, but telling him not to worry as we had had so many stressful moments like this before, but you were strong and we always had a happy ending.
At the hospital, our midwife was already waiting for me and took me in to the ultrasound scan immediately. I even remember making a joke about how I still hadn’t tried this specific ultrasound machine.
I instantly understood something was wrong. I couldn’t see the usual blinking light saying your heart was strong and well. I turned to the gynecologist on call and her face confirmed my fears. She told me that she was really sorry, but she couldn’t find a heartbeat and that the pregnancy had ended. I was in shock and couldn’t even cry. I called your Daddy, who was waiting for my call, convinced it was going to be another good new. He started crying immediately. I had never heard or saw you Daddy crying before, after almost 10 years of sharing his life and going through pretty hard stuff, such as the loss of his father.
He joined me as fast as possible at the hospital where a midwife was taking care of me. We were told our options. We needed answers so we said yes to all of the tests. They took dozens of blood tubes out of my arms, I peed in a jar, I went through an amniocentesis…
We learned that we had to induce labor, that at this level of the pregnancy it had to be a vaginal birth.
When we came back home that evening, the reality became more vivid. We couldn’t stop crying. We still hadn’t picked a name for you. We decided to call you Estrella, Star in Spanish, hoping you’ll shine for us forever.
On Sunday evening, 3 days after receiving the worst new of our life, we came to the hospital to give birth to our first baby, at 5 months. I was so scared. I was not ready. Who would be? It was a painful birth, I lost a lot of blood and had a few complications. Your Daddy was so strong, and stayed with me the whole time. You were born on the next day. You were so small, yet so perfect already. We got to see you, to hold you for as long as we wanted, and to tell you goodbye.
I want to thank you for the amazing months I got with you in my womb. You can’t even imagine how happy you made me. For a while, I forgot all those previous years of tears and trying. I will think of you every day for the rest of my life. And I really hope that soon, I’ll be able to smile again and to tell your name without crying. And maybe, if I’m lucky enough, one day I’ll tell your story to your little sister or brother, my little shooting star, Estrella.
Love,
Mom.
