Heartache: Part 1

I have been putting off writing this post all day. This one will involve something that I try hard not to think about too much and that hurts my heart terribly. Once the second IUI failed in getting me pregnant, I just couldn't make myself do anymore. I told myself that I was done, that I wasn't going to try anymore and I wasn't going to think about it anymore. I tried to convince myself that I was capable of going about my life and acting as if not getting pregnant was completely normal. But I can't. It's not possible. There is not one day that I don't think about it and the more I try not to, the more I do. With every period comes a new wave of hoping "maybe this month" and with every month that I don't have a period, there are boxes and boxes of pregnancy tests taken. I have even seriously contemplated getting a full hysterectomy so that maybe I can live my life normally and not have this hanging over me, but I just don't have it in me to deny myself of that little sliver of hope that I cling to. I use every ounce of self control I have to make myself not buy pregnancy tests, but I never last long. I always have this fear that maybe this time I am pregnant and if I don't make sure so that I can go to the doctor that I will miscarry again and it will be my fault. 

I did really well from the end of December 2010 through the first few months of 2011. I didn't test with my monitor and I didn't even track anything on my calendar. I used a few pregnancy tests, but not nearly as many as I had been. I think something in me had given up a little bit, and then March came. First, let me give you a little back story. When my husband and I first got together in the beginning of 2008 he was working on a drilling rig. His schedule was to work for two weeks and then have two weeks off. A couple of months after we started dating, I had moved in at his house and his job was transferred to Pennsylvania. Since I wasn't going to see him for two weeks at a time, I told him I wanted a puppy to keep me company. We were living at his parents house at the time, so we had to okay it with them. They said it was fine, but it had to be a Boxer or a Rottweiler. I chose a Boxer. We looked everywhere and finally found one in Kentucky. We drove just across the Kentucky border and met the people that had her. The puppy was a little older than we had originally planned on getting, but she was beautiful. She was white with a brown patch over her right eye and she had a crystal clear spot in her eye. I named her Torrence. Torrence was my child. She went everywhere I went, and I do mean everywhere. Spoiled doesn't even begin to cover the way she was treated. We never left her behind and if she couldn't go, neither did I. In the end of 2008 we moved in with my parents and they had a fenced in yard, so Torrence could run and play unhindered. Eventually, after watching one of the other dogs, she learned she could also jump the fence. We tried everything to keep her in. We even tied her to one of those old, heavy clothesline poles that was buried in the ground, but she just pulled it over and drug it around the yard.

Now back to March of 2010. We had finally decided that the next weekend we were going to buy that special wire fence that has the electronic collar that shocks and see if that would keep Torrence from going over the fence. The weekend was only a few days away and Torrence and I were in my bedroom eating. When I got up to go to the bathroom I forgot to shut my bedroom door. I noticed she wasn't there as soon as I walked back to my room and I ran to the front door, but I was too late. As I stuck my head out the door I heard a sickening smack. I instantly turned and ran back to my room, I knew what that noise was. I quickly put some shoes on and ran out the door, out the gate and down our little side road towards the main road. Once I got to the end of our road I saw a man walking towards me. He asked me if I knew anyone that owned a white dog (she had a collar on with tags), I told him she was mine as I kept running towards the top of the hill. When I got there she was lying on her side on the side of road and I knelt down beside her as the man kept talking. He told me that her and another dog (our other one that taught her to jump the fence) came out of nowhere chasing a cat and never slowed down when they reached the road. He was behind the car that hit her, the car that didn't even have the common decency to stop, and he stopped and carried her out of the road. When I first knelt down her eyes were open, but I didn't think she was breathing. I started to put my ear to her chest when she suddenly took a very wet sounding breath. I told the man to run back to my house and tell my dad to get my truck. While he was gone I just petted her and talked to her. She never even tried to move, just stared up at me. Dad came up with my truck, but my mom and brother also pulled in with the blazer. We decided the back of the blazer would be better and dad started to put her in. As he was setting her down, she started trying to squirm to stand up. I had to hold her down to keep her still. I laid there with her, talking to her, petting her and holding her tongue out the side of her mouth to help her breathe. I made sure to ask the man what side she was hit on before we left so I could make sure she was laying on the correct side. We were about twenty minutes from the vet's office when her breathing started getting more shallow and there were longer pauses in between. She let out one breath and I kept waiting for the next, after a few seconds I shook her and was willing her to breath with everything in me. She took two more after that and no more. I laid my hand on her chest and felt her last heartbeats under my palm, her eyes were still staring right at me. My brother drove us back home and I held her in my arms the whole way back. Once we got there they put her next door in the guest house. I called Torrey and told him what happened (he was working in the mines now) and then I sat over there in the kitchen floor holding her in my lap until he got home. I felt her once warm and vibrant body grow cold and heavy and I shut her eyes for the last time. I wrapped her up in a blanket when he got there and went back over to mom's. I just didn't have it in me to watch him bury my baby in the cold hard ground. I felt like I had just lost my two year old child. Torrence's death was harder on me and caused me more pain than my miscarriage ever did.

I think this was the first time I was ever terrified to be pregnant. I hadn't had a period in over a month and had been waiting to take a test when Torrence died. I felt like if I was pregnant that I had traded Torrence's life for the baby's life. I didn't want to be pregnant at that point and I was afraid how it would taint my view of the baby if I was (even though I knew it wouldn't have been the baby's fault). Luckily, it turned out I wasn't pregnant. I don't know why, but for some reason that night I felt a strong calling to read my Bible. I started doing Bible study every night when Torrey was at work and we started going to church again. I felt at ease for the first time in a long time. I like to think that Torrence was here for a reason and that reason was to lead me back to my faith. Not necessarily to my faith in God, but to my faith in myself and in my marriage. I've always fought with my faith in God, but it wasn't until my infertility problems that I lost faith in myself. I felt like I was broken, like I was less than a woman and like my time here on this Earth is pointless. I like to think that Torrence served her purpose when she died by giving that back to me. As involved as we eventually were in the church, the politics finally made me weary of it (which is always what happens). My faith in myself slips at times, but it's at those times that I think of her and I talk to her and I seem more at ease. I've always been told that God doesn't allow animals in heaven, well I don't know if I want to believe in a God like that because I know that Torrence is my angel. So it's definitely something I struggle with. Everyone tells me to relax and put my faith in God, well I did. I did that wholeheartedly and without question for a long time and all it did was give me more drama to deal with than I had in the first place. 

Just a few nights of sleeping without Torrence and not having her by my side made me come to the conclusion that I needed another dog. We looked for a few weeks and I was losing hope because I wanted a very specific dog. I wanted another Torrence, as close as I could get anyway. Then I found this picture of a little white puppy with a brown patch. The patch was on top of her head instead of over her eye, but I knew she was "the one". I didn't care how far away she was or how much she cost, I had to have her. We ended up not only getting her, but getting her brindle sister too and for free. So now I have three angels. Torrence to watch over me and Torren and Sydney to keep me company. The older Torren gets the more she looks like Torrence. Her personality is a little different of course, but she is a lot like her too. Sometimes I can look at her and almost forget she's not my Torrence.