Once a Mother, Always a Mother
I’ve been a little absent lately for personal reasons. There are certain times of the year where I tend to struggle emotionally, creatively, physically, and even professionally – the month of May is definitely one of those times. Thankfully, due to the current state of the world, I am still working from home so I’m able to disguise the pain and emotions associated with this time of the year for me and I’ve prevented it from affecting me professionally. However, that doesn’t resolve the other areas of my life that I feel are threatened due to my emotional state of mind during this time.
As I have mentioned before, I have a son. His name is Enzo Miguel Ferro. He is almost six and a half years old and he doesn’t live here with me, he doesn’t live on earth. Enzo was born sleeping on earth and received into Heaven on December 12, 2013 at 1:13 AM. He was 14.5 inches long and weighed just under two pounds. I was 28 weeks pregnant when he double-chord wrapped his umbilical chord causing his heart to stop beating.
Losing Enzo shattered my world.
Although my pregnancy was a complete surprise, I never for a second doubted the fact that I would have a son. From the minute I found out I was pregnant, my motherly instincts kicked in. My ex-boyfriend and I had recently broken up. I think it was about two and a half months after we broke up and he moved out of my apartment when I learned I was pregnant. I had only been living with a friend for a few months, pretty much the same length of time that we had been broken up, when I found out and to be 100% honest I never even thought I was pregnant. My period was always irregular, and I was (and still am) always nauseous or sick to my stomach. The only reason I took a test was because my roommate forced me to, and even then the line barely appeared on the pregnancy test.
I laugh writing this because I remember it as if it was yesterday; even with the semi-present line on the pregnancy test, I didn’t believe it. My roommate and I walked it across the street to a friend and coworkers house (who at the time was pregnant) for confirmation. Once we decided that it was indeed a positive, I texted my ex-boyfriend to let him know and since we hadn’t been on the best of terms (we were always fighting) and he was at work, he was very crude and short with me. At this point I already knew I was going to go to a CVS minute clinic in the morning to take a new test, but I figured I should let him know anyway that there was a huge possibility I was pregnant. (Of course, this is still very vivid in my mind and I actually still make fun of him for how this went down)
Since he was working, and we had been fighting, and he was super short and dry with me telling me he was busy and didn’t want to and couldn’t talk. This is when I decided “fuck it” and replied to him (and I quote) “Well, I’m fucking pregnant and it’s yours.“ Let me clarify, there was absolutely no doubt in either of our minds that the baby wasn’t his, but since he was such a jerk and he pissed me off I texted him that and then turned my phone off (insert giant grin emoji here). I swear I still get so much satisfaction thinking about that night LOL. Anyway, obviously this freaked him out and he tried to call me and text me, but like I said my phone was off.
I don’t think he slept that night, but I know I did and I didn’t care. I knew with or without him, I was going to have the baby. So as planned, I went to CVS the next morning and took another urine test this time the nurse practitioner confirmed I was indeed pregnant, and suggested I go to the doctor the next morning to run tests. As I was told, I did just that. It happened to be my two days off (this was when i worked at Disney, in Magic Kingdom – driving the Steam Trains) and it was on my dads birthday that I took the first test. So from July 23 to July 25 I spent those three days taking tests and going to the doctors to confirm I was indeed pregnant. I even dragged my gay roommate, who was also a very close friend of mine, to the finals doctors appointment where they’d take the bloodwork and do a sonogram.
After the doctor confirmed, did my first sonogram, and I scheduled my next follow up we decided that we’d both call into work and we drove down to Miami that same day to break the news to my family. I started with my older sister first. I told her, then I made her come to my aunts house to be my moral support while I broke the news to my aunt. From my aunts, we went to my parents house. Broke the news to them. By Monday I was back in Orlando, and my entire family knew. I still hadn’t seen my ex at this point, but once I was back I had to face the music so we met up at the house. Once the next appointment rolled around, he started gong to all the appointments that mattered with me and we started to prepare for the baby.
Coincidentally, around the same time I learned I was pregnant, I got a promotion and was moved from the parks to working Concierge at one of the Disney resorts. This allowed me to be inside while I was pregnant, even though my hours didn’t change me I was on my feet for up to 14 hours a day it beat working outside, on a steam train, in 100° summer weather.
By the time my birthday came around, I was six months pregnant and in the hospital for 4 days with Salmonella poisoning. It was the worst experience, I would never even wish that on my greatest enemy. My parents ended up coming up two days earlier than they had planned (my whole family was coming up for my birthday weekend) and while I was in the hospital, they stayed with me. I was released on my actual birthday, and from the hospital we drove to Walgreens then to Epcot. Definitely wouldn’t recommend that either, but what could I do my whole family was there and it was my birthday. That was the month of November. Exactly one month and a day later was my next follow up appointment, and I woke up with the weirdest feeling. I knew something was off, but my ex told me it was all in my head. I was actually late, for the first time ever, to the appointment and he was complaining about it to me the entire time we were waiting. I couldn’t shake that feeling, so when we were wrapping up the appointment I asked the doctor to check the baby. Just to be sure. You know, mothers intuition I guess. She couldn’t feel the baby. Insert panic.
Of course, they all told me not to worry. It was normal, we’d just get a sonogram technician just to check on the baby. This is when I felt my world crashing down around me. The first words out of the technicians mouth was “Yup, there’s no heartbeat. Let me call the doctor to talk to you about your options.” I honestly thought my ex was going to jump the woman, but thankfully I distracted him with my hysteria and I told you so. We were moved to a different room, the doctor came in and told us I could go home and pack a bag, come to the hospital when I was ready or I could walk over now and prepare to be induced to deliver the baby. By this time, I had been in the appointment for two hours and my aunt knew something was wrong. She had been calling like crazy and since we were inside I had my phone on silent. Finally once the doctor walked out, he answered my phone told my aunt I had lost the baby and then handed me the phone. She asked me what the doctor told me we needed to do next, I told her I wasn’t going home I wanted to go straight to the hospital and that’s what we did. She told him not to tell anyone, to have my roommate bring me my stuff and go straight to the hospital. She would take care of letting my parents know and that she’d call us when they were on their way.
It’s funny how the mind works. I remember every detail of my pregnancy from start, to finish, as if it was yesterday. Honestly, I can also remember the day when my aunt and mom had to tell me that grandfather had died (I was 7 years old, and he was my life – my best friend). I can also remember the day my grandmother passed away, both of them. My dad’s mom, on the first day of spring break my senior year, which happened to be the night before my three year anniversary with said ex-boyfriend and baby daddy. My mom’s mom, who passed away this past August. Even my grandfather on my dads side, three years ago at the end of this month. I guess the mind wants to remember the best and worst of your life so you never forget those feelings or moments that matter most.
It took me a good five years to really get to a place where I’m okay to feel happy, to feel sad, to want to scream, to want to cry, to smile, to laugh without feeling guilty. The April after I lost the baby, I got a tattoo as a reminder of Enzo, it was my third tattoo and at the time it was the most special one I had. A few years later, I got another – the symbol for the zen word “Ensö” (my ex got the same symbol a few months later on his arm).
I still, although I am okay, struggle with the holidays (Halloween, my birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, Mother’s Day, and lastly Father’s Day) – that’s what, roughly five months that bring out my rollercoaster emotions? I think I can settle for five out of twelve months right? Loss never gets easier, you just learn to live with that void in your heart. Technically speaking, there are two Mother’s day’s in May. May 5 is international Bereaved Mother’s day and the first Sunday of the month is Mother’s Day. Fathers aren’t so lucky. But then again, what bereaved parent is?
So after my long-winded post and rant, now you have a better picture of why I was a bit absent recently and you know me on a deeper, more personal level. I don’t tell this story for pity, or sympathy. I tell this story and write this rant because Enzo matters. He is my son, always will be. And I am his mother, always will be. I AM a Mother. I always will be, I just have a huge piece of my heart in heaven instead of here on earth like other mothers. Sometimes I have to write this story out to remind myself. Not because I forget, or I don’t believe it but so that my heart doesn’t forget that just because he isn’t physically here that he doesn’t matter.
They say you’re supposed to talk about him, say his name…I do that every day, all day long. I write it, I blog about it, I wear his name – everything I do is for him and because of him. And that’s all that really matters.
Pictures will be added to the post at a later date, I am currently looking for the best ones to post that speak best with this post.
