This Saturday is my husband's birthday.
It also marks the 1-year anniversary of the baby we lost during pregnancy last March. I was only a little over 2 months along.....but have you seen what a baby looks like at two months? It has eyes, ears a little nose, mouth, fingers, toes, and a little beating heart :o) For two months I cared and planned for it, I started exercising more, changed my eating habits, even gave up drinking soda. (That's love) I was positive that it was a boy (just like I knew Paige was a girl) and I already had a name picked out for him, a nursery theme, and a few little outfits that I couldn't resist buying. We told our friends and family, everyone at the church we attended, and also the church we were moving to. We couldn't help it, we were very excited :o) And everything we'd cared for and hoped for, for two months, was gone in a few seconds. It was (literally) flushed down the toilet. I never even got to see it.
I needed to see it.
I could barely walk into that bathroom afterwards, and I think I cried more that week than the rest of my life combined.
I know that miscarriages are very common (as my Dr. kept reminding me over and over again), but it still changes you a little. I'm not really sure I've gotten over it yet. And for some reason, at 3:45 AM, I woke up thinking about it again, like it had just happened. And even though that little baby is luckier than any of us, to enjoy the splendor of heaven without the hardships of this place, the loss of life is just so scarring. It made me a different person.
I'm not sure why I'm writing a post about this, I'm not the person to do that type of thing normally, and I try to keep things upbeat. :0) But I guess the truth is, I don't really have anyone to talk to right now, and even if I did, I'm not sure that I would. Words are easier typed than said, aren't they?
So please forgive my wearing my heart on my sleeve for a day. :o) Maybe some of you can relate.
And God bless all those little sweethearts that we never got to hear say "mama".