I just realized my last two posts sound a lot the same...it is what happens when you post months apart and don't look back as to what you have written.

Today, Claudia is three. I remember driving up to the hospital (close to two hours away) terrified. Out of my mind. We had not told our families I was having an amnio and a possible c-section that day. They still thought it was a week away. We didn't want to get their anxiety levels up, ours were bad enough.

I had rented a doppler and even in the way, on the way to the hospital, I would listen to her heartbeat.

I remember the cold, sterile room where I had the long needle inserted into my belly and they removed fluid from the baby.

I remember our wonderful doctor having to do it TWICE because the needle didn't work. I remember her saying that had never happened before and "Of course it would happen to YOU."

I remember walking up to the room and laying on the bed and getting hooked to monitors. I remember waiting, waiting, waiting for results.

I remember Claudia going NUTS in utero. I remember her turning and turning and kicking to the point I was in tons of pain. I remember watching her heart rate climb to over 220 (NOT normal) and I remember launching into full blown panic. I remember the nurse telling me it was normal. I remember arguing with her that I had nightly monitoring for 8 weeks and the highest her heart rate got was 170 and 220 was NOT normal. I remember Craig trying to call me down.

I remember them calling my doctor and her racing in, looking at the monitors,  and telling me they would take the baby no matter the results of the amnio.

I remember calling my parents...so excited to tell them the baby was coming but being that they were taken so aback by it they were scared instead of happy. I had to tell them this was a GOOD thing, a planned thing...but I was so upset what I had expected to be a "HAPPY" call after Curtis' "SAD" call wasn't.

I remember Craig getting scrubs on. I remember being wheeled into surgery. I remember not asking questions because I was afraid of the answer.

I remember the needled inserted into my spine...I remember the doctors and nurses joking, talking about what they were going to do for Thanksgiving the next day.

I remember a tug. I remember MORE tugs. I remember Craig sitting next to me, talking softly and calmly, but his eyes showed his nervousness.

I remember Dr. R pulling her out and saying "There is a cord." (meaning a cord issue. She was wrapped up, a lot, in her cord. Again. Another baby with a cord issue. Why her heart rate had climbed).

I remember her cry. I remember saying "I want her to keep crying". I remember looking to my right and seeing her under the warming lights.

The first feeling? Not an overwhelming sense of love. Or happiness.

I felt relief. RELIEF. She was here, She was alive. And for the first time in about 17 months, a deep breath I took.

Falling in absolute love came about an hour later when I got to hold her before she spent the rest of the day in the NICU being monitored. I was okay with her NICU time. I was thrilled someone else was caring for her, watching her. It had been exhausting being the only one to care for her 24 hours a day. And not being able to physically see her.

 I fall more in love with her everyday.

I am lucky.

I am the lucky one.

I am the one I would have searched for after losing a baby at 40 weeks.

In the days, and weeks, after I lost Curtis I was desperate to find someone like myself. Someone who lost their FIRST baby at 40 weeks and went on to have living children. I couldn't relate to someone who lost their 2nd or 3rd or 4th baby. I wanted to find someone like me.

Someone who walked in to the doctor's office and no heartbeat to be found. I wanted to know they picked themselves up, dusted themselves off, and tried again. And succeeded.

I am my own "best case scenario" after losing my son at 40 weeks.

I picked myself up, dusted myself and everyone around me off, and tried again.

And took home a beautiful daughter and a beautiful son.

Our family is as complete as it is going to get without Curtis. I truly love my life as it is right now. I can't bring back Curtis (trust me, I have tried. I still play the what if game on a regular basis). Claudia and Cole fill my days with laughter, joy, stress, exhaustion, and love. (Yes, I said stress and exhaustion. Because that is what kids do. Even as a loss mama, I still get annoyed and frustrated. But, I gotta say it is a heck of a lot less thanks to a truck load of perspective.)

I am blessed to have a job I enjoy and can work part time at. I am blessed to be able to take a few classes with Claudia.

I think about Curtis all the time. I miss him all the time. I tear up when I see how  much Cole loves to watch the little boy who is close to Curtis' age at daycare. Or watch my sweet nephew who is only a year or so older then Curtis, want to sit close to Cole and entertain him. This year Curtis would be 4 and a half at Christmas. I can picture him running down the stairs with Claudia in tow, jumping up an down at the excitement of Christmas morning. But, it isn't my reality and never will be.

Ya know, as I write this, it still doesn't even seem real. I miss being pregnant with him when I had no clue what my future held. I miss the short time I got to hold him...my mind was so fuzzy I didn't do all the things I know in hindsight I should have. I hate the fact I didn't have the funeral for him that I should have.

It is emotions I have blogged about before. But they are always still there.

But, I am still the best case scenario. I know far too many women who have had miscarriages, stillbirth, and more miscarriages. And no living children. I don't know why this isn't me. None of these women deserve that nightmare. I do count myself as the lucky one.

Claudia is turning 3 on Sunday. Three. I haven't even gotten close to completing her pregnancy story and birth story. But I promise I will. It is all so fresh still.

Three years ago, I took a deep breath for the first time in about 16 months. I know I am lucky.