The first thing I noticed was that she wasn’t swimming.
Actually, no, that’s not entirely true. The very first thing I noticed was that the baby looked gigantic compared to the little peanut we had seen at the last ultrasound almost five weeks earlier. For the first time, we got to see a baby that looked like a baby, and it was terribly exciting.
Everything had been going well up to that point. We got all good news at our first prenatal appointment and ultrasound. I was having morning sickness and feeling tired all the time, but it seemed like a fair price to pay. No bleeding, no weird pains, no problems.
But the baby wasn’t moving, and it took me a little while to register that it should be. The peanut had been basically just floating in space at the last ultrasound, after all. My pregnant friends had told me prior to this appointment that it would be a fun one. “You actually get to see the baby kicking and swimming around in there,” they said.
Not the baby on the screen in front of us, though. She was just lying there as Patrick and I commented on how cute she looked. “Should he be moving?” I asked the ultrasound tech (at the time, I didn’t know the gender of the baby and thought it was a boy).
But the baby wasn’t moving, and it took me a little while to register that it should be. The peanut had been basically just floating in space at the last ultrasound, after all. My pregnant friends had told me prior to this appointment that it would be a fun one. “You actually get to see the baby kicking and swimming around in there,” they said.
Not the baby on the screen in front of us, though. She was just lying there as Patrick and I commented on how cute she looked. “Should he be moving?” I asked the ultrasound tech (at the time, I didn’t know the gender of the baby and thought it was a boy).
The ultrasound tech was slow to respond. She just seemed very preoccupied with her work, however. She didn’t seem like the most personable person in the world, which was strange considering her occupation.
Then I realized that I didn’t hear anything. At the last ultrasound, we had heard the baby’s heartbeat, loud and clear. But maybe the ultrasound tech just hadn’t turned on the audio part of the machine yet, or listening to the heartbeat was something separate from the ultrasound, I thought. I had no idea how those things worked and no real reason yet to think that something was wrong. “Should we be hearing the heartbeat?” I asked casually.
The ultrasound tech still wasn’t responding. She was just moving the ultrasound stick a lot and staring at the screen. She was reminding me of how Patrick can be sometimes when I have to ask the same question multiple times before he responds – you know, typical husband behavior.
Finally, though, she spoke. “I’m really sorry,” she said with a tortured look in her eyes, “but I can’t find a heartbeat.”
That was the moment when life began not feeling real, like I was dreaming and would wake up at any moment. Like my life split in half and forked into two different directions: the path it was supposed to go, and the path I was currently on.
I’ll spare you guys the details of what happened next. I’ll spare myself the details of what happened next.
***
Obviously, a lot has happened since I last updated this blog.
1) I got married.
2) I got pregnant.
3) I was then no longer pregnant.
4) I finally quit a job that hasn’t been making me happy for a very long time, and
5) We got a puppy.
2) I got pregnant.
3) I was then no longer pregnant.
4) I finally quit a job that hasn’t been making me happy for a very long time, and
5) We got a puppy.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been afraid of dogs. Well, as an adult I tolerate them more than fear them, but I’ve never been quite a fan. (Every dog I pass by when I’m running, for example, barks as though it wants to destroy me.)
So when Patrick started suggesting that we get a puppy sometime last year, I humored him and said I would consider it. But the truth was, I didn’t think I would ever be fully comfortable in my home with a dog in it.
We went to North Shore Animal League a couple of times just to look. While the dogs were cute, they were also loud and smelly and I could not see myself committing to a lifetime of that.
I’m not exactly sure what changed in my heart when we first found Cooper at North Shore Animal League. We were still in the heavy grieving process from the miscarriage and had gone to look at puppies to cheer ourselves up. We weren’t intending to adopt that day.
Most of the dogs were as hyper and barky and jumpy and poopy as usual. Then there was Cooper, a black and white collie mix sleeping calmly in his cage, barely three pounds in weight. Of course he wasn’t Cooper yet; that name didn’t come to me until later.
We asked to hold him. I was a little nervous to hold him at first, afraid he would bite me. But he was so tiny and had the softest fur I had ever felt. He didn’t even bark at all. Instead of biting me, he fell asleep in my arms almost instantly. And then our wedding song, “Stand by Me,” started playing over the animal shelter’s radio, and it just felt like a sign. Patrick and I were meant to have this little guy, who had just arrived at the shelter from North Carolina earlier that afternoon.
I’m not stupid. I know a puppy could never replace the human child that we lost. But sometimes it does feel like Cooper is a little angel that was sent to us to help fill a deep void that was left after that fateful ultrasound appointment. (Even though he definitely doesn’t always act like an angel like he did that very first moment we held him.)
It’s been almost two months and already Cooper has taught us so much more about parenting than Patrick and I could have ever imagined. He wakes us up multiple times in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. We’ve had a number of unexpected vet visits. We’ve cleaned up more poop than we thought possible from such a tiny animal. We’ve dealt with extreme tantrums followed minutes later by extreme cuddle sessions. We’ve started to experience what it means to have unconditional love for someone who is not always easy to take care of.
Cooper is definitely keeping us busy and honing our skills for when do become parents (and we’re trusting God that we will, someday). He drives us crazy but makes us laugh and smile every day. At moments when I am at my most down, thinking about the baby and the life that we lost, I need only look at this silly puppy face and my spirits are, at least, a little bit lifted.
He’s such a big part of our life now that I can’t even imagine how we never would have known him if that doctor’s appointment had gone differently. If that baby had been swimming, I would be at a cubicle right now writing someone else’s work instead of my own. Of course I would have done it gladly if it meant that our baby girl could have lived and been healthy. It’s just weird to think about how different things would be. How different things are.
It’s a Monday afternoon and I’m on my living room couch, typing this in yoga pants. I’m about to go let Cooper out of his crate, where he has to stay most of the time so that he doesn’t tear the stitches he got after getting neutered on Thursday. I will feed him lunch and probably clean up his poop for the fourth time today. I will pick him up and hug him, if he will let me. (He may be in the mood to play with his toys instead.) I will do some more freelance work to make sure I have enough money to pay my bills. I will work on my novel. I will start my new ongoing endeavor to keep our house clean (a feat that is not easy or even possible when both husband and wife work full time). I will teach myself how to cook better and become the wife I always wanted to be, and hopefully someday become the mother and the writer that I want to be.
In everything I do for now on, I will do my best not to waste the life that I have.
Cooper Murphy
So when Patrick started suggesting that we get a puppy sometime last year, I humored him and said I would consider it. But the truth was, I didn’t think I would ever be fully comfortable in my home with a dog in it.
We went to North Shore Animal League a couple of times just to look. While the dogs were cute, they were also loud and smelly and I could not see myself committing to a lifetime of that.
I’m not exactly sure what changed in my heart when we first found Cooper at North Shore Animal League. We were still in the heavy grieving process from the miscarriage and had gone to look at puppies to cheer ourselves up. We weren’t intending to adopt that day.
Most of the dogs were as hyper and barky and jumpy and poopy as usual. Then there was Cooper, a black and white collie mix sleeping calmly in his cage, barely three pounds in weight. Of course he wasn’t Cooper yet; that name didn’t come to me until later.
We asked to hold him. I was a little nervous to hold him at first, afraid he would bite me. But he was so tiny and had the softest fur I had ever felt. He didn’t even bark at all. Instead of biting me, he fell asleep in my arms almost instantly. And then our wedding song, “Stand by Me,” started playing over the animal shelter’s radio, and it just felt like a sign. Patrick and I were meant to have this little guy, who had just arrived at the shelter from North Carolina earlier that afternoon.
I’m not stupid. I know a puppy could never replace the human child that we lost. But sometimes it does feel like Cooper is a little angel that was sent to us to help fill a deep void that was left after that fateful ultrasound appointment. (Even though he definitely doesn’t always act like an angel like he did that very first moment we held him.)
It’s been almost two months and already Cooper has taught us so much more about parenting than Patrick and I could have ever imagined. He wakes us up multiple times in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. We’ve had a number of unexpected vet visits. We’ve cleaned up more poop than we thought possible from such a tiny animal. We’ve dealt with extreme tantrums followed minutes later by extreme cuddle sessions. We’ve started to experience what it means to have unconditional love for someone who is not always easy to take care of.
Cooper is definitely keeping us busy and honing our skills for when do become parents (and we’re trusting God that we will, someday). He drives us crazy but makes us laugh and smile every day. At moments when I am at my most down, thinking about the baby and the life that we lost, I need only look at this silly puppy face and my spirits are, at least, a little bit lifted.
He’s such a big part of our life now that I can’t even imagine how we never would have known him if that doctor’s appointment had gone differently. If that baby had been swimming, I would be at a cubicle right now writing someone else’s work instead of my own. Of course I would have done it gladly if it meant that our baby girl could have lived and been healthy. It’s just weird to think about how different things would be. How different things are.
It’s a Monday afternoon and I’m on my living room couch, typing this in yoga pants. I’m about to go let Cooper out of his crate, where he has to stay most of the time so that he doesn’t tear the stitches he got after getting neutered on Thursday. I will feed him lunch and probably clean up his poop for the fourth time today. I will pick him up and hug him, if he will let me. (He may be in the mood to play with his toys instead.) I will do some more freelance work to make sure I have enough money to pay my bills. I will work on my novel. I will start my new ongoing endeavor to keep our house clean (a feat that is not easy or even possible when both husband and wife work full time). I will teach myself how to cook better and become the wife I always wanted to be, and hopefully someday become the mother and the writer that I want to be.
In everything I do for now on, I will do my best not to waste the life that I have.
Cooper Murphy
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