Two years ago ...

At this time two years ago, I was standing in my bathroom, staring in disbelief at the positive pregnancy test laying by the sink.

I remember feeling ever-so-slightly optimistic that I was indeed pregnant, but I was in a bit of denial. But, after seeing those two pink lines pop up on the test stick, it was confirmed: I was indeed pregnant. Mike and I had been trying to reach this point for the last six months, and it was finally here.

I'll never forget the wave of emotions that washed over me that afternoon. My eyes welled up with tears. I was excited and terrified at the same time. I had almost instant butterflies in my stomach. I looked at my reflection in the mirror and uttered, "You're going to be a mom." I thought of a dozen different ways how I wanted to share the news with Mike. I wondered how I'd look and how I'd feel for the next nine months. And, I wondered how it would feel to finally hold my baby.

Unfortunately, that pregnancy ended in a miscarriage at almost 11 weeks. Mike and I were heart-broken when we received the news that there was no longer a beating heart in our little baby. That frozen image on the ultrasound screen still haunts me, almost two years later.

My first miscarriage, which happened during my first marriage, occurred much earlier than my second one. I remember the physical discomfort and pain, but emotionally it didn't take the toll on me the way my second one did. Maybe because I was in a different place back then and there was a lot of turmoil in my life that it didn't hit me as hard. But, the second lost pregnancy left me feeling numb.

The months following that second loss were heartbreaking. Several friends announced their pregnancies or held their bundles of joy safely in their arms. It was beginning to feel that our attempts at achieving another pregnancy were in vain and that it would never happen. I felt betrayed by my body and its refusal to do the one, basic thing it was built to do.

My due date for that second pregnancy - November 1, 2004 - came and went, and we were no closer to growing our family than we were a year earlier. I still mourned for that tiny, little soul that quietly stepped into and out of our life. And, I couldn't believe how attached I had become to a person I never even knew, other than from an ultrasound picture that revealed its presence inside me.

Two years later, despite everything else that has happened in my life, I still think about what would've been my second child, wondering what he or she would be doing today and how different my life would be.