I was 17 years old, and only about half-way through my final year at school and had major exams at the end of the year that would (hopefully) get me into University. I didn't find out that I was pregnant until I was 8 weeks. Deep down I knew, I was just too scared to find out for certain. When I found out for sure, I freaked. I was 17, just and my parents are both really Christian and my father didn’t particularly like my boyfriend. I didn’t know what to do.
A few days later, I took my brother’s nieces out to the lake for the morning. These two little girls are absolutely gorgeous. Blonde curls, awesome personalities and picture perfect. Watching them playing on the playground and feeding the ducks, I realised that, yeah, I wanted this baby and from that moment on, she was loved so very deeply, and treasured so very dearly.
A couple of days after this, I don’t remember the exact date, we saw our little Angel for what would be the first and only time. We had an Ultrasound to check on her size, and make sure that we were in fact 9 weeks along. This was confirmed. We never got a copy of the ultrasound, our only picture of our daughter as it was sent to my doctor. To this day that haunts me; I so very badly want that picture.
I began to prepare myself mentally and emotionally for the arrival of this little one. I told my closest friends when I was about 12 weeks, and tried to figure out the best and easiest way to tell my parents, I knew that would be the hardest one. My friends weren’t exactly shocked, they had kinda guessed I suppose. I hadn’t started showing too much by this stage and it was still easy to hide, which was a good things because I went to a private, all-girls Christian school and you were “asked to leave” if the staff found out you were pregnant. I don’t know how I expected to hide it from them until the beginning of December; I would have been 7 months pregnant!
Two short weeks later all those problems became trivial. On the morning on Friday 26th July, 2002 I was at the gym. I love exercise and I went to the gym every morning before school. On this morning, I was training some girls for the National Sports Aerobics Champs. I did a few ballet moves and fell awkwardly. I felt a sharp pain, but I didn't think too much of it. But, after I finished my workout and training, as I was getting ready to go to school, I noticed blood. That was one of the scariest times in my life. I went out to my car and drove to my boyfriends place, and from there, his older sister took us to the hospital where my worst fears were confirmed with an Ultrasound, which was hidden from my sight. Bailee had died. I
was prepared for, and had a D&C, which was horrible. I just kept crying, and crying. I wanted to die; part of me did die that day, along with my daughter.
I didn’t know what to do next; I didn’t know how I was supposed to pass the days, the weeks, the months and the years until I saw my daughter again. I guess I should explain something. I never knew for certain that Bailee was a girl, I was never told, "you have a daughter", I just know. Deep down, I just knew she was a little girl. I have seen her in my Mind’s Eye and she is gorgeous, my little girl is. Big blue eyes like her mummy and daddy, and bouncy blond curls like her daddy. I only wish the world could have seen her but they can’t, so I’m introducing you to her in the only way I know how, by sharing her story (and
mine) through this website.
Somehow I have passed the time, lived my life with Bailee Rose in my heart instead of in my arms, for almost four years. My heart shattered the day she died and although it has slowly begun to heal, the edges are so sharp and jaggered, they continue to rip me apart inside. I am a very different person today because of my daughter’s life. But for the better! I owe so much to my little girl who achieved so much in her too brief life
