Let Me Introduce You

Saturday I had the honor and pleasure of hosting Cecily’s baby shower. Many of my readers already knew this, as many of my readers came from Cecily in the first place.

But I want to introduce Cecily to those of you who don’t know her. I want to tell you a bit about her story, so that you can understand why hosting her baby shower was one of the proudest and beautiful moments of my life.

Cecily and I met one another back in 1991, when she and Charlie and her dog Misty came to my door one afternoon to visit my then-boyfriend. We were all writing poetry and they were hosting a weekly poetry reading at a local bar on Monday nights. They were looking for housemates and my boyfriend and I were looking for a place to live. We took the other bedroom and began what became a descent into alcoholism and drug addiction, and poetry.

Cecily and I weren’t close back then…my boyfriend didn’t care for her much and at that time I allowed him to dictate much of my behavior—who I hung out with, where I drank, what I did. Eventually that relationship became an inferno of lies, chaos, and agony, disintegrating to ashes. He moved out. Cecily and I bonded over drugs. She cared for me when I felt I had nobody to care for me. She became my friend.

When I went into rehab, she and Charlie visited me. When I said I couldn’t talk to them for a while, she let me go. They came to visit me and my newborn daughter after they too got sober, and didn’t crumble under the painful glare of my parents. She stayed in touch, lightly, and then quietly asked if I would come to their wedding when I had a year sober. I agreed, nervously, and the beginning of our real friendship was begun.

Through the last ten and a half years, our friendship has grown and changed and developed into the most precious gift. In recovery, the friendships created are described as being made like survivors of a shipwreck who share a lifeboat. The fact that Cecily, Charlie, and I literally went through hell together and came out the other side has bonded us in a way that nothing can touch. We GET one another even more than we get others in recovery. We all ‘know’ the pain people share about, but with each other, we were there. We saw it firsthand.

Over four years ago, Cecily and Charlie decided they were ready to start a family. Soon after, they discovered that this, like so many other things, would not come easily to them. They struggled through doctor’s appointments and blood-work, poking and prodding and questions.  They went through drug treatments and waiting. Then Cecily started her blog as a way to connect with other women struggling with infertility, and she opened up a whole world I didn’t understand. Then a miracle with their first IVF—she became pregnant with twin boys.

The pregnancy was not easy from the start. She was uncomfortable and exhausted and felt guilty about complaining at all because people were trying so hard to get to her point. She tried not to complain, but the bloating and fluid-retention and her blood pressure were making it very difficult.

And then tragedy struck at 22 weeks. I went with Cecily and Charlie to their regular ultrasound appointment that day, excited and eager to see the boys moving around—happy to be there with them. We had no way of knowing that things had already happened. After a long while of the tech saying nothing, the feeling that something might be wrong was slowly creeping up each of our spines. She got the doctor who told us that one of the boys was already dead. Our heads spun with it—what now?

Within 24 hours the worst had occurred. She was admitted into the hospital with preeclampsia and treated with medications. Her blood pressure was through the roof and her head was aching so badly that even morphine couldn’t put a dent into the pain. Her liver was starting to show signs of failure. There was no time…she was not responding to the medications. If the other baby didn’t come out, they would both die. Charlie and I were terrified of losing her. I had been posting on her blog at her request, to keep her readers updated of the nightmare as it unfolded. I had no blog of my own back then.

This was at the end of October, 2004. Their boys were gone, and they were left to pick up the pieces, to deal with the most unforgiving grief and to figure out how to move on.

At just about a year after losing the boys, Cecily and Charlie did another transfer with two of the embryos they still had frozen from her first retrieval—October 11^th, one week after my wedding.

She became pregnant with one, and it was time to hold our breaths. We held our breaths through each week, through the beta results at the beginning, through every ultrasound, holding them until we got past that 22-week mark. And then we held our breaths again.

Cecily is now at 34 weeks. I’ve been with her and Charlie to many, many ultrasound appointments, and each time I was ecstatic to see the baby moving around, to see the heart pounding away in a healthy rhythm.

Because of her history and the fact that her blood pressure does go up when she is pregnant (it is perfectly normal when she isn’t), combined with the fact that this baby is growing ahead of schedule, her Doctor is planning on inducing labor as early as June 5^th if all looks good at this weeks’ appointments.

On Saturday we had Cecily and Charlie’s baby shower. We believe there will be a baby now (the baby refuses to show us if it is a boy or a girl, but most of us think girl). They have gone from being terrified of losing this baby to having very little time now to be terrified of actually being parents.

I have been with them and watched them go through unthinkable tragedy and heartache. They not only were able to keep walking, they did so sober and allowing people to help them and love them and cheer them on. Cecily shared her agony openly and honestly in her writing, and the Internet responded almost exclusively with gratitude (the few trolls were greatly outnumbered).

She has reached so very many women and men with her words, her humor, and her raw honesty—in both her weakness and in her strength.

I know what those of you who read her know in your hearts—Cecily will be an incredible mother, and Charlie an incredible father.

This child will know it too.

Comments

[amanda]

might i say that you are all amazing. congratulations to you all for hanging in there and always being there for one and other. you are an extended family and the child that comes into that will be a very lucky one, indeed.

[Neil]

You sound like an amazing friend. And I'm saying that to both of you.

[Sheri]

I remember your first post at Cecily's blog and I thought "wow - this woman is a very compassionate true friend to Cecily and Charlie." I continue to be amazed by you, Sarah.

Thanky ou for sharing this with us.