Miami

Pete mentioned chocolate lobster raviolis and the flood gates of my mind began to open, and there I was thinking about that time. All the sadness it held, and how lonely I was.

It was a perfectly swank place to eat in Miami. It was a few days away from our son (and the rest of our family we were vacationing with in South Florida), and we had all intentions of "living it up" as much as we could, since I was newly pregnant. Then as I ate one of the most memorable meals of my life (hence the chocolate lobster ravioli's), a quick trip to the bathroom would make me realize my life was about to change forever.

I would like to return to that place just so I can indulge in it's food, and not in it's tears wept on red walls, holding all of my prayers to God to please make that moment go away. I wasn't sure I was strong enough.

I would not like to return to the ER that informed me my "levels were low", or the Internet cafe I feverishly looked up the words "signs of a miscarriage", and made a speedy appointment to Quest Diagnostics for daily level results.

Nor would I like to return to the alley that was behind Ocean Ave. and next to the back door of our hotel, which was the only place I got cellphone service to talk to the doctor on call from my practice thousand of miles away while I was on "vacation". She was less then encouraging as she practically said, "happy vacation, your having a miscarriage, move on and enjoy yourself".

I don't want to return to our family vacation in Florida that people whispered around me, and hoped I would keep my anguish and grief to myself so I would not rain on any ones "vacation" parade. I tried to smile, and pretend it "was no big deal". However, it was me, who lost a life within. I stood alone on the island of miscarriage while on vacation. Everyone smiled, while I grieved deeply, and silently.

For as much as I have been blessed with two beautiful, healthy children, that moment in my life is like the Olympic torch, a flame that lives on forever. For those of you reading this that have sat on the that sad island, I am sure you know how that story goes. It is the loneliest place I have ever been. An old friend of mine that has danced upon that crap island, was my savior. We talked about how our latter babies would never be if the ones we lost were here. That for me would mean no Addie, and no Addie in my life seems impossible, and even more earth shattering. It goes back to teaching us who is exactly in charge of life. It isn't our charts, our basal temps, or planning every inch of what we expect when expecting, it is always, and only, in Gods hands.

I want to return and eat chocolate lobster raviolis. I want to remember, and not forget. However, I would also like to not repeat history, and to make new memories in the place that represents immense pain in my life.

It is time to renew our relationship: Miami and me. I must return to Miami.