Day One (Friday): Spotting. Worrisome spotting. Might even be a little optomistic to call it spotting. I really want this baby. Oh, God! Please don’t take this baby from me!
Day Two (Saturday): Bleeding, now.But that is okay, right? It could be okay. Plenty of women have bleeding early on and still go on to have their babies, right? Yeah, sure. So why can’t I stop crying?
Day Three (Sunday): It is gone. I know it is gone. My womb is empty. Why, God? Why give me a baby, just to take it away? I wanted this baby so bad! More than I even knew. I am so glad Marc is home today to keep the kids. I just want to lay on my bed and cry all day. Emma is worried about me. “Mama, why you cry?” I tried to smile, but it must have seemed grotesque on my swollen, tear streaked face.
Day Four (Monday): Today is a turning point for me. Yes, the baby is gone and I am sad beyond belief. But, in the midst of that, I have joy. Strange sounding, I know, but it is true. Let me show you. I started the day with posting my loss on Facebook. That was tough, but necessary. I had posted the good news, and my wall was covered with congratulations and happy exclamations. Now, I had to tell everyone there was no longer anything to celebrate. But, the happy side effect was that, within that very same hour a dear friend stopped by with cookies and hugs. Up to that moment I had felt so very alone. But, this friend who has experienced this same grief multiple times, reminded me that I am not alone.(Thanks, so much, M!) Then, Marc decided we needed a change of scenery. For my sake, and for the kids sake. So we went to Dinkey Creek for the day.
There I sat beside the creek, holding Chloe in my arms and watching the kids frolic about with the biggest kid of all (that would be Marc). And God opened my eyes. “See how much I love you?” He seemed to be saying. And my heart was filled with joy.
The joy mingled with the grief in a way I can’t really describe.
And, while I still find the tears come easily, and I still don’t really want to talk about it, and my heart still aches at the thought of what could have been, I have peace.
Day Five (Tuesday): I passed the placenta in the night. That was such a shock. And now people are calling. I don’t want to talk to anyone. That peace and joy I had yesterday is trying to slip away, and I must hold on tight. Then, Emma crawled into my lap with a book, “Read to me, Mama.” And, you know, for the first time I didn’t mind reading the same book four times through. Just holding Em was so comforting. Today, Marc observed that, because our home is generally such a happy place, it has been a really weird week with me moping around. I guess that is why Chloe has been so fussy for the last few days.
Day Six (Wednesday): When I found out I was pregnant, naturally I began planning my knitting accordingly. Well, I decided to go ahead and knit the nursing shawl like I had planned. Instead of a nursing shawl, I will wrap it around myself and think of how much God has blessed me. A reminder of the joy and peace He granted me in one of the saddest weeks of my life.
Day Seven (Today): One week ago today, I lost a precious baby. As I sewed the buttons on my nursing shawl this morning, I couldn’t help thinking about how far I have come in one week. There were moments so dark, I thought I would never be happy again. And rays of a sunshiny hope that burst through the clouds of despair just long enough to remind me that I would. I have met many women (on Ravelry) who have been in this place, or who are in this place now. And I have learned that, even in the darkest of places, joy can still fill the heart.
Joy in one of the saddest times of my life. It really is amazing, isn’t it?
Shay, Leafy Lace Shawl in Ella Rae Mocha