It was around this time, a week ago, when my life was forever changed. As cliche as that may sound, there are no other words I can find that expresses it completely. Mark thinks that writing might help, that it might be therapeutic, and I guess I'm willing to try anything to fill up this Grace-sized hole in my heart.

Last Sunday, after peeing, I noticed some spotting. I was kinda scared. I didn't have any cramping or anything else, so I didn't know was going on. Looking in the book and on the internet didn't really help, it said it was normal, but I guess I had a gut feeling that something wasn't right. We called dr. and she advised us to go into the emergency room to check it out since the spotting wasn't a result of any strenuous lifting or pushing or anything like that. It took me about an hour to get the courage to go to the hospital. I didn't want to go.

When we got there (Pali Momi), the first thing the nurse did was check for Grace's heartbeat. Which she found. But, when the doctor came to check it out from 'down there' he noticed that something was protruding out. They made the decision to send me by ambulance to Kapiolani. FYI, Pali Momi are very ill-equipped to handle anything baby, so don't waste time going there for anything baby related. We waited for about an hour and then they transported me to Kapiolani. They didn't want me standing up at all because they suspected that gravity might deliver Gracie at any given moment.

The nurses and doctors at Kapiolani confirmed what the Pali Momi doctor suspected. I had an insufficient/incompetent cervix. That means that my cervix was weak and most probably results in premature birth. If there was enough of my cervix to do so, there is a procedure that could've been done where they kind of sew it up to keep it somewhat closed. Unfortunately, after doing another ultrasound, they found that the cervix was already too thin to hold a stitch. So, our options were...try and hold out for 3-4 more weeks, where baby MIGHT stand a fighting chance or accept the situation and begin the process of delivering Gracie and spend as much time with her as possible. Before we could even process that, the ultrasound showed that I had an infection. It was an infection that would make it difficult to hold out for 3-4 weeks, would jeopardize baby, and would jeopardize me. So any decision we may have had was made for us.

I couldn't bring myself to give the okay to start the process. We got the news around 5pm. My family came by. Our pastor came by. And still I wasn't ready. Finally about 10pm, we decided that it was time. It was kind of a blur. I remember that it freaking hurt like hell when the doctor checked to see how dilated I was. It was like she was trying to give me a throat culture by way of my vajayjay. They put something (misoprostol?) all the way up in there that would induce labor. About 2 hours later, the contractions started. I've said it before and I'll say it again. Those who say that they don't remember what it feels like have reallllly bad memories or are freaking liars. The first pain reliever helped REALLY quickly, like almost immediately, but only lasted for about 20 minutes. The pain got even more intense. Next was some kind of morphine drip thing where every so often I could press a button and give myself a higher dosage. IT DIDN'T WORK! Five pumps and absolutely no pain relief at all. Finally, after about 45 minutes, the dude came in to stick that needle into my back. By that point, I was in so much pain I didn't hear a word he said. I know he was talking to me, but he could've been talking Russian for all that I actually heard and understood. Somewhere in between the fake morphine and the epidural, my water broke. I remember the nurse making me sit up and kinda hunch over with my legs hanging off the bed. The doctor cleaned my back and waited for a contraction to end so he could stick the needle in. While I was sitting up, there were 4 contractions, needle went in between 2nd and 3rd. Gracie was one impatient little girl. Before I could lay back down after the 4th contraction, Grace was born. Freaking epidural was all for naught. It didn't even get a chance to kick in.

Grace was born at 1:45am on January 25 and left us a few hours later at 5:30am. She was a little fighter.

I wish I could say that things are getting easier. It hasn't. I struggle with God and His plan. I don't understand it. I keep wondering what I could've done differently. I struggle with the unfairness of it all. I keep searching for the 'silver lining' and coming up empty. People ask me if I need anything. I need to understand. Tho, I'm struggling with Him right now, I need people to know Him and accept Him so that they'll have a chance of seeing my little girl in heaven.

Today is a tough one.