That Led Me Straight To You
Days are long, and nights are sleepless when you have children. Time can be disjointed, emotions can run high, but everything is worth it, looking at the blessing you’re holding. So many times we take for granted the things that are most important- this can be especially true when it comes to family. But I never will.
I look at my daughter, my little Dashie who is just six months old, and I think of the miracle she is.
My husband Bow Hothoof and I married four years ago. He’s always been so kind and spirited. I love him and I adore him. We met when I was in college. He was at a rival school, competing for their hoofball team, and I was a cheerleader for ours. He told me later that he caught sight of me during the game and he couldn’t take his eyes off of me. So when the game ended, he asked me to dinner, and that was the beginning of an adventure that didn’t end. Our wedding day was one of the greatest days of my life. I knew on that day, more than any other day, that it was the beginning of the rest of my life.
From very early on, the both of us had firmly agreed that we wanted children. About a year after we married, we decided to begin trying for a family. We’d been together for five years already, engaged for one of them, and married now for another one. We wanted to start even more quickly, but we decided to take one year to adjust to being married. Immediately after, we began trying for children.
About six months later, I woke up nauseous, and the doctor told me I was pregnant.
I had never been happier than hearing that news, and Bow had been thrilled too. We launched into lengthy conversations about the future. Things were going wonderfully. And then, when I was three months into my pregnancy, I was home alone when an intense pain shot through my abdomen. I panicked, and I flew to the doctor. The pain was so intense, and I honestly thought I wouldn’t make it. But somehow, I made it to the hospital. The doctor used an ultrasound on me, squirting cold goo on my pelvis in order to see the baby inside. He was quiet for such a long time. It felt like hours. And the look on his face… I knew something was wrong. I didn’t want to believe it, but deep inside, I knew.
He looked at me, very solemnly, and told me he couldn’t find a heartbeat.
My heart dropped faster than a pegasus out of the sky with a wing cramp. For a moment, I thought I was hallucinating. I asked him to repeat what he’d said. The words did not change, other than adding an “I’m sorry.” At the end. He gave me a few minutes on my own, just to process everything.
The words for that kind of crushing feeling… There aren’t any words for that. You can try and describe it, but there aren’t words for that single feeling of your entire dreamscape of your future crashing down around you. I was shocked and numb at that point. I couldn’t even cry. I just… flew home. Bow had been at work when that happened. My mind was so scrambled, but I had enough clarity of thought to think about getting him from work, but decided against it. I needed to rest. I got home, curled up on my bed, and went into a fitful sleep.
My logic was absolutely terrible, as it would tend to be with any pony at that point. I think I thought that if I went to sleep I would wake up and it would just be a dream. But when I woke up, the crushing emotional pain in my chest told me that it was real. I stayed in that wavering state of consciousness and unconsciousness until my husband came home from the weather factory. He knew something was wrong when he found me in our room, curtains drawn, and curled up under the covers. It was a stark contrast to who I had been lately, so jubilant and happy. I told him what had happened. It wasn’t until I said it out loud and he touched me that I fell apart. That’s when it became real. I cried harder than I had ever cried before, and likely ever will again.
There were two days between that time and the time that I delivered were so reflective for me. I cried often, and I had times where I just screamed or threw things at walls, but most often I was just still. I would sit on my bed, put a hoof on my stomach, and just think about the time I would have left with my baby. I wouldn’t have my foal inside of me for much longer. I wanted to take the time with my baby, I wanted to send my little one my love, and the joy I felt for as long as I had them to them. My foal’s life was short, and I never got to do things with them. But the impact they made on me was one that will never leave.
I wrote a letter to my baby while they were inside of me. I had one hoof on my stomach, a pencil in my mouth, and paper on a desk. I wrote. I poured out my heart and got all of my feelings out and I told my baby how much they meant to me. It was very healing for me to do.
The next evening, the contractions began. Bow stayed with me, and a nurse volunteered to come to my home and help deliver my baby. I didn’t feel like I could leave my home at that point, so I asked Bow to see about a nurse coming to help with the delivery. I was fortunate to have one come and do it pro bono.
When the contractions came, I was trying to sort out my thoughts and my feelings, and untangle them from each other. I felt so many things. Pain- both emotional and physical, sadness, anticipation for seeing what my baby looked like, struggling to accept what was happening, and just trying to find peace. My thoughts were centered on what my baby would look like, what I would feel holding them, and would I find some measure of peace now that I had done so?
Eventually, I had my answer.
My baby was here. Tiny, small, and so fragile looking. The nurse cleaned my foal off, and told me that I had delivered a little boy. Bow had stood there, crying, and cut the umbilical cord, and the nurse handed him to me.
I looked down into his little face. His coat was a vibrant orange, his mane and tail pale blue and yellow in streaks, from the small tufts of hair he had. I held him, and I felt such conflicting emotions. I was anguished, of course, but there was a strange sort of peace in holding him. It wasn’t that I felt that I could move on now or anything of the sort. It was more that there was no more wondering. I knew what he looked like now, and I had held him. Those feelings of questioning were over. But a dozen more took their place. What he might have grown up to be, what he would have been like, what I might have felt just being with him- chasing him around the house and cooking for him and watching him grow. But I couldn’t focus on those now. This was my time to just hold him. I would treasure those moments for the rest of my life. My chance to just be with my baby.
I held him for such a long time, and I talked to him for what felt like hours. I told him what I would miss doing with him, and I read him the letter I wrote him. Now that I held him, I could give him a name. I named him Trail Blaze. I wrote his name on the letter before I read it to him. I cleared my throat, and I began to read.
My Sweet Trail Blaze,
I wanted to write this letter to you so that you know how loved you are. From the moment I found out I was expecting you, you have brought me unspeakable joy. The love that Daddy and I have for you is too much to describe. You were loved from the first moment of your life, and will be loved far beyond your last.
When you first passed away, I wondered if I had done something to cause it. Did I not do something I should have? Did I do something I shouldn't have? I didn't know. But slowly, I realized that there was nothing I could have done to stop this. I don't know why you were taken from me so soon, but that's okay. Because I loved and still love you with everything I have while you were here with us, and that's enough for me.
There will always be things that I'll miss about you. Not getting to know you as a pony or getting to watch you grow. But more than that are all the things I'll miss doing with you. I'll miss rocking you to sleep in my arms, reading you stories before bed, teaching you how to bake a cake, seeing you fly the first time, or taking you to a Wonderbolts performance. I will miss you every moment of every day for the rest of my life. I know your father will, too.
There is so much of life that is spent in the past or the future. Most ponies find it very difficult to live in the present. I have spent much of the few days I still carried you inside of me living in both the past and future- remembering losing you and wondering how it would change me in the future. It is said that "There is no hoof so small that it cannot leave an imprint on this world", and I believe that's true. You have touched and helped shape my life more than I could have ever anticipated. Although losing you devastated me, it taught me to appreciate every moment I have with our family.
To the baby I once hoped to teach, thank you for teaching me these things. They were lessons I needed to learn. Perhaps that was the reason for your short time on this earth. In any event, I'm grateful that I got to carry you- even if it was just for a little while. You are loved. And I miss you very much.
Love,
Mommy
Reading that letter, I felt a better sense of peace than I did before. Bow held him, and spoke to him about the flights he wanted to take with him, the tricks he hoped to teach, the hoofball games he could have taken him to. He spoke of how much he loved him, and we held him between us, crying over him.
We buried him the next day, down on the ground, near Cloudsdale. The biggest drawback about living on clouds is that there is no solid ground. We buried him near a field of flowers, some place beautiful so that he would always have the beauty he deserved around him. It was a difficult final goodbye, but the time we did have with him, it was so precious. We cherished it. The goodbye wasn’t final though. We felt that wherever we went after we died, we would see him again. We held fast to that hope.
That was the hope that got us through the dark months that lay ahead of us. There were countless times where we felt so lost in the darkness around us that we couldn’t find a way out. But we kept moving, because we believed it would get us somewhere- anywhere besides where we were. And now, looking back, we were right.
We were understandably cautious about trying again for a baby. I was more hesitant than he was. I didn’t think I could handle losing another baby. I thought I was a broken machine, that I couldn’t give him what we both wanted so desperately. We were discussing it one night, and he told me that if I stayed where I am, I will never get where I want to be. Those were the words that moved me.
We tried again. And I was pregnant.
The emotions that time around were so unbelievably intense. I was excited and nervous and worried and stressed and hopeful and lost. I was all of those things at one time, and even though sometimes I was able to have the good ones more often than the bad, I was cautious. I didn’t want to get my hopes up to have them crushed again. It was a perfectly reasonable way to feel after what had happened last time. It wasn’t until I hit the fourth month that I finally permitted myself to stop being as paranoid as I had been before. I still constantly tried to eat right, to take my prenatal vitamins, to exercise lightly, and to be on bedrest when I could. The fifth and six months passed, and when I hit my seventh, I relaxed completely. I only saw the future now, not the past. And soon, it was nearly time for me to deliver. The fear had been obliterated by ecstasy. I couldn’t wait to see my baby grow up, to hold them, feed them, rock them, change them, do everything with them.
When the day of my labor came, it was intense. The pain was unbearable. I didn’t think I would survive it. It felt like dozens of bones were being broken in me all at the same time. I was screaming all the way to the hospital, and Bow was panicking. I don’t think I’d ever seen him so scared in all my life. He was stuttering, tripping over his words, trying to calm me down, and I was not having it. I looked him straight in the eye and I told him that if he mentioned breathing one more time I would hit him so hard that he flew all the way back to Canterlot. He shut up about it after that. Smart stallion. I was still screaming when we entered the hospital. Mercifully the time we got there I was dilated enough that I could have pain medication. I have never been so relieved in a time of such pain in all my life.
And then, it came time to push. Oh my goodness. I had never felt such agony. I squeezed my husband’s hoof so hard I think he might have lost circulation in it for a time. I was screaming and crying, and trying to think around the pain that was consuming me. I did not succeed in doing that. But, thankfully, the pushing did not last nearly as long as everything else had. My head was dizzy from the pain, but I did register when the pain stopped. I was hazed with the remnants of pain, but I heard that cry. My baby’s first cry.
It pierced my soul like a blade and lit it up like it was burning with the fire of a thousand suns. I tried to lift up my head from my pillow, but I was so weak I couldn’t do it. But I heard the nurse say that it was a filly, and Bow placed her in my arms. When I saw her, my breath stilled in my throat.
She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Her cerulean fur was absolutely gorgeous, and her Rainbow mane was just perfect. Her tiny hooves kicked and flailed, and she was so warm in my arms. Her tiny eyes opened up and looked at me, and I fell in love with her. It wasn’t even falling in love the way you would normally think of it. It was like a clicking into place inside of me. It was like meeting somepony I had always known. I had never felt such an intense love in my life. Looking into those eyes, I found my purpose. Ponies always said destiny was defined by our cutie marks, but now I saw that they were wrong. My destiny was the filly I was holding.
I looked up to Bow, and there were tears in his eyes. He kissed me on the forehead, and no words were needed between us. I knew exactly what he wanted to say. I looked down at my baby girl, and grinned.
“Welcome home, Rainbow Dash. We love you, baby girl.”
The greatest day of my life was followed by many others. Every day my little Dashie surprised me, brought me joy, showed me more love than I have ever pictured. Every day she fascinated me. Her tiny movements, her beautiful voice, her tiny giggles. She was a troublemaker from the start, running around the house, knocking things over, and being mischievous. But that just made me love her even more. She was perfect. She was everything that I could have wanted, and everything I might have asked for if I had known what to ask.
The day she came home, I made a promise to her. I swore that I would always be there for her. I would support her, I would protect her, and I would be whatever she needed. A mother, a cheerleader, a friend. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for her. And through it all, I have kept my promise.
Now, looking at her sleeping form, there was something I knew. Celestia blessed the broken road that led me straight to her.