Tuesday, March 22, 2011
When my husband suggested we go to bed more than an hour ago, I knew tonight was going to be another of those nights. He is snoring beside me and I can't seem to get myself to sleep. So many things today reminded me of how things were supposed to be right now. I am supposed to be awake and restless because my baby wants to nurse. I am supposed to be changing poopy diapers and bathing my sweet little one. Yet another friend posted a pregnant picture. She is 27 weeks along, past the magic viability mark. It felt like being jabbed with a pin. She looks so radiant and happy. There is no trace of fear that something might go wrong. I feel horrible for hating her right now because I didn't get to experience that and never will. I know that if my husband and I do manage to conceive again, there will always be fear for me that something will go wrong. I know I will be tempted to keep a pregnancy secret as long as possible just because of fear. But at least Ben and I are not letting fear hold us back.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
May God give you... for every storm a rainbow, for every tear a smile, for every care a promise and a blessing in each trial. For every problem life sends, a faithful friend to share, for every sigh a sweet song and an answer for each prayer. ::Irish Blessing::Right now it feels like our life is a storm with no rainbow in sight. We feel like we are drowning and the folks with the life preservers don't feel like throwing them to us. They'd much rather throw them to the people in the life boats. It's easy to save folks who aren't drowning. Much harder to help someone in a panic.We know we will survive the storm. After all, we follow the one who the winds and the waves obey. Right now, though, we're in the thick of the hurricane and things don't look so bright.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
My darling daughter,
You're going to be tired of me telling you how much I miss you and how much I wish that I could hold you and nurture you and watch you grow. This week, your daddy decided you should not be alone on our memorial shelf for you, so he brought up your grandmother's ashes and put them next to yours. I never knew your Grandma Sophie, but your daddy tells me she was a wonderful lady. It made your daddy cry. In some ways, he has lost his past and part of his future so all that remains is the present. You were so small, darling, so fragile and innocent. We will never forget you and how you changed our lives.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
A tiny beacon glows down here, a little spark of light.
It pierces through the atmosphere and twinkles in the night.
A candle lit in memory of our own Donna Rose.
Our candle burns throughout the day, though many do not see
You're in our hearts in the same way, a secret mystery
You burn inside our memory, our darling Donna Rose.
Our friends each light a candle too. They sympathize because
They know how much we both miss you, so each of them will pause
To light a little candle just to honor Donna Rose.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Next Tuesday is the day the doctors told me was my due date. Every day I think "I should be huge as a hippo. I should be just about ready to pop!" And it seems so very unfair that I'm not. Ben and I have been TTC. Had we been successful before this, I might have felt losing Donna was in some ways justified because her brother or sister wouldn't have been able to exist had she gone full term. But since this hasn't happened, I don't even have THAT justification.