Of the 365 days in the year, there are always dates that stand out and make us smile when we hear the date like birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays. On the flip side, there are challenging days like anniversaries of loved ones who have passed. I have down days on my calendar that make me pause every year. September 23rd was one of those days. I thought September 23rd would pass every year leaving me crestfallen with some tears and a heavy heart. The turn of events I’ve experienced in a single year leaves me truly speechless and in absolute awe of this life.
On September 23rd, 2019, Edwin and I spent the day consumed with grief, confusion, sadness, and pain. We were at my doctor’s office because I was miscarrying my first pregnancy, the baby who would have been our first child. I’ve been incredibly fortunate in my life not to have experienced that much loss. I undoubtedly count this as a blessing. But I also think that it left me very unprepared to deal with my miscarriage. I didn’t have or know that many coping mechanisms or ways to manage my anxiety and the depression I felt around our loss. I was in pain. So, I sought out help and had an amazing support system around me.
I started making progress with every passing day. I physically started to heal after my miscarriage too. In the grand scheme of things, I was fortunate enough to get the go ahead from my doctor to start trying for another baby pretty quickly. At the time, it felt like the slowest season of life I had ever been through. Looking back, I appreciate and acknowledge how I felt. But, with some distance from it, I can also see that this period of time really was a blimp. For that, I am forever grateful as I know many women can’t say the same.
We found out we were pregnant again in January and due on September 28th.
The moment we heard the September 28th due date and then throughout my entire pregnancy, I was hoping for a September 29th delivery date. September 29th is my mom’s and my great grandma’s birthday. My mom was born on her grandmother’s birthday. So if Rowan was born on the 29th too, he also would have been born on his grandma’s birthday. To be completely honest, September 23rd wasn’t even on my radar. Of course, throughout my whole first trimester, I thought about another miscarriage. But I didn’t think about September 23rd specifically and I never once thought about the possibility that our baby would or could be born on September 23rd.
In August, I found out our baby was breech.
I did everything under the sun to try to flip our baby. Eastern medicine, western medicine, you name it, but had no luck. When we did a ECV at the hospital with my doctor to try to flip the baby, we learned that the baby was truly stuck with one foot caught in my pelvis. You can imagine how comfortable that foot was for me for weeks, ha!. The ECV was the last effort to try to flip our baby. So from here we had to schedule a c section.
For breech babies, c sections are routinely done a little early, at 39 weeks.
In hopes that the scheduled c section date will arrive before the baby decides to come on his/her own and force an emergency c section. My doctor told me that she was on call on September 21st and 23rd. So my c section would be scheduled for one of those two days and I could most likely pick. There it was, September 23rd. I kind of brushed the significance aside because I was so consumed with the breech, the ECV, and a million other things.
When I checked out and the nurse scheduled me in, she told me my doctor was completely booked on the 21st. So I would be giving birth on the 23rd. Even though I had been told by my doctor that this was a possibility. When I heard that our due date was officially September 23rd, I was truly and completely awestruck and dumbfounded. I was quite literally speechless.
Edwin, of course, wasn’t with me at the doctor (Covid mandates).
So, I called him from the car to share the news that we would be welcoming our little love into the world on the 23rd! For me, having a scheduled date to begin with was kind of surreal, let alone a date scheduled for the 23rd. Edwin didn’t remember September 23rd for its significance. I think it’s really a mother thing.
As I said, the possibility of giving birth that day wasn’t something on our radar at all throughout this pregnancy. So we hadn’t talked about it. I really thought that the 23rd would come this year and be a tough day. Even though I was happily pregnant, and would go until next year when I’d experience the memories of the painful day in 2019 over again. When I got home and saw Edwin, I burst into tears reminding him that September 23rd was the big, big heartbreak day of last year. The tears weren’t sad tears; rather, they were tears of complete and total thanks and awe. I could not, cannot, and don’t think I’ll ever be able to believe that the worst day of my life to that point turned into the single best day of my life within the matter of one calendar year.
On September 23rd, 2019, we miscarried our baby.
On September, 23rd, 2020, we gave birth to our baby boy, Rowan Clarke Eversole.
What a beautiful world!
Everyone has their own belief system. For me, I know in my deepest heart that this was all part of God’s plan for me. The world works in beautiful, mysterious ways. The turnaround of events on September 23rd was such a sign to me to trust in the Lord. Trust in the power of hope, in the good in people, and in the beauty in this world. I see and read so much from pregnant women and couples right now. Along the lines of how they are unsure about and saddened by the world, the country, and the times they are bringing a baby into.
I respect their opinions as I’ve never walked a day in their shoes. But I truly believe there is so much beauty, grace, and good in this world. For me, September 23rd is now a very strong reminder of that. Also, I know there are plenty of women who are fighting every day to be able to bring a child into this world. So, my heart always goes out to them when I hear thoughts like this.
I think September 23rd, 2019 was the worst day of my life, but I also know September 23rd, 2020 was the very best day of my life.
My heart split wide open the very second I heard Rowan cry and take his first breath. The moment I felt Rowan’s skin on my skin, I knew a love I never imagined possible.
Rowan, you are not only my rainbow baby but you are the single best thing that has ever happened to me. Your birthday will always be a reminder to me that pure magic is all around us. And that God’s love is greater than anything I can comprehend.
Edwin, thank you for walking through life with me and being by my side every single step of the way from September 23rd, 2019 to September 23rd, 2020. You make my world go round.
September 23rd, a random day for most and the most significant day for me.
Of course, I can’t picture a world where Rowan could have been born on any other day. Even though it felt like September 29th was so meant to be throughout my pregnancy (literally everyone was convinced our baby would arrive on the 29th!). If Rowan wasn’t breech, he wouldn’t have arrived early on the 23rd. It was all part of the greater plan. I’m just grateful that I was a part of it. My little rainbow, miracle baby. I love you forever to the moon and back Rowan.