Today is my 12th wedding anniversary. 12 years ago today, my husband and I got married. I look at pictures of myself then, before 15 child losses in a row, including the loss of my sweet Alli, before the legal complications, before stress and worry filled my 40-year-old face with worry lines. I see my smile then: how innocent, how carefree, how easy that smile seemed. I miss that easy way I saw the world, the "it can't happen to me" philosophy I had. I did not know I would face pregnancies that would be off-the-charts with their risk, including that vicious Kell antibody, a.k.a. the killer antibody that stands in the way of any baby that makes it past first term.
I wonder if I had known then, 12 years ago, what I would face if I would still have moved forward as I have. I know I would have done some things differently. But would I have chosen differently when it came to marrying my husband? I don't think so. But I think my smile would have been a lot less easy or carefree. I think it's probably a good thing that we don't know everything that's coming. Sometimes, we'd rather just not know. But I know I made the right choice 12 years ago, even with the trials we've been through. I prayed about it. My husband prayed about it. We both knew without a doubt it was right. And I wouldn't trade my live children for anything. Sometimes, I just miss my easy smile. I miss the self I was before I knew hell could happen to me, too.
