Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Celebration and Mourning

Snuggles


Everyday moments with my little ones—nursing Reese, helping Jace hold his sister, singing “The Wheels on the Bus” while laying next to both of my babies in Jace’s bed, a trip to Target as our family of four, holding both my children in my lap while Nolan vacuumed (one because she was eating, the other because he is scared of the vacuum)—have taken greater meaning and weight.

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A girl I went to college with, yet really didn’t know, lost her baby the other day. She was 38 weeks pregnant when they discovered there was no longer a heartbeat. Just a few months ago I was doing hair for a wedding that she was in. While she curled her own hair and I pinned up that of others, we had fun talking about our babies; we were due only a few weeks apart. She was thrilled to be having a son for her first child. I was thrilled to be having a daughter for my second. And now she is having to say goodbye to that precious boy while I get to say hello to new memories every moment with my precious girl.

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Over the past few years I have cried through the blog posts of women who either had a child be born into heaven, or a farewell was said within hours of the birth. I couldn’t help but wonder if knowing their stories was meant to prepare me for a similar one myself. This wondering bred great fear in me throughout my pregnancy with Reese. A little spotting at the beginning and I was desperately pleading with God not to let me lose this baby. Sporadic movements from her at a time when they were supposed to be increasing in frequency had me obsessing over the possibility that she was in distress. Lower abdominal pain drove me to Google. While my fear didn’t always show itself to the world around me, it was ruling my thoughts. I finally realized that by allowing this fear to rule in my mind, I wasn’t trusting God to take care of my child.

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I’ve come to understand that knowing the stories of great grief and loss for women like Molly and Angie doesn’t mean I need to assume I will share a similar experience. But it does mean I can have a greater level of understanding and empathy when people I know or know of experience a day/week/month/life-shattering sadness. And their stories have made me more grateful for the story I get to live through. A strong sounding heartbeat. Fully formed limbs in an ultrasound. Organs that function like they should. Birthing a living, breathing, screaming baby.

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And as I wince while getting up from the couch, feel sore from muscles having to change where they support and have a belly that probably won’t reduce itself as quickly as I’d like it to, I’m thankful. Thankful because I get to hold and look at my precious baby while experiencing these reminders of the life that I carried within me for nine months.

3 comments:

Brazenlilly said...

Beautiful words, Jill! I don't know if you remember my story from women's retreat a couple years ago, but I also held my healthy newborn while 2 very close friends were still mourning their late-term miscarriages. It's a humbling, growing, learning place to be, and we can only ask God to give us understanding and grace. I can see both of those in your words, as well as the perspective that comes with our blessings!

Crystalyn Plattner said...

Jill, it is a hard situation when you are enjoying your precious bundle of joy while someone else mourns for theirs lost. I experienced this when my best friend and I were pregnant at the same time. She with her second and me with my first. I thought we would be having little ones around the same time and my imagination ran wild with plans for them growing up together, but God had a different plan. Thankfully her miscarriage wasn't late term, but it hurt all the same. :( I don't know why my baby lived and hers didn't. All I know is she is an amazingly, courageous woman because she was there to share in the celebration of my daughters birth when I know she was hurting so terribly. I do remember having all the same fears during my pregnancy because I so desperately wanted my baby to live. I remember finally coming to term with it too. God in his gentle way reminding me that she is my child, but she is His too. This helped me gain perspective over the situation. So, Miss. Jill, I do understand all the fear you had racing through your mind and I am so thankful that you were able to be bold and honest and willing to share your heart. Enjoy your precious gifts from God! God bless you and your family!

Samantha {Moody Mama} said...

Beautifully said. I too had those fears this last pregnancy.

In the last week there have been 2 news stories one local one national about baby girls named Harper (my little girlsl name). One passed away after 4 surgeries hoping to correct a birth defect & the other the family dog saved her life by waking her parents up when she stopped breathing. Both around the same age as my daughter (she is 8 weeks) I have prayed for both of these families knowing they are going through so much. The situation has reminded me how truly blessed I am to have my sweet healthy Harper (& Wil).