Monday, October 28, 2013

All you need is love

Yesterday was my due date. Did you know that I was pregnant earlier this year? One minute I was pregnant, and we were rejoicing. (A baby! A baby!) The next minute we were a tad overwhelmed. (Wait, a third baby! A third baby?) And then, almost in what seemed like the next minute, I was not.  

The peculiar thing about miscarriage, the one aspect of it that I still cannot comprehend, is that a life is lost. One day, we had a baby: I was going to be a mother of three. The next day: The heartbeat had stopped; unbeknownst to me. One day, there were two hearts here. Two lives here. A family of five. The next day, there was only me.
This past week started out as pretty glum, but then we brought dinner to a friend who welcomed a little girl into the world two weeks ago. I talked to a friend who has waited for years for a little one to arrive in their lives, and in the past eight weeks is finally adjusting to being a family of three. I heard that a friend of mine is being induced today. I rubbed the belly of a close friend who is expecting her first baby in a matter of months. And another close friend is expecting their first baby, after years of waiting patiently, in the upcoming weeks. I know, I know, that these aren’t really linked, but somehow I cannot help feeling that they are. The incurable idealistic hippy in me likes to think that we are all connected just a little bit and that everything happens for a reason, you know?

My entire life, I could always think of something that I would have changed or done differently if I could. I would have studied harder or told the truth. I would have called one more time. I would have run more miles. I would have written one last letter. And for the first time in the past seven months, I am realizing that I have made peace with our loss. I listen to my girls playing and laughing together. I embrace their slobbery kisses and I am convinced that I could not have done anything differently. I have, once again, been humbled, and reminded that we are not in control. I have, once again, been reminded of the fragility of life. I have two amazing girls and beyond-my-wildest-dreams of a husband.

We have so much love.


Jennifer S. said...

Oh Sara! I didn't realize you'd had a miscarriage. I'm so sorry. Isn't it wonderful though that the loss of life is balanced out by new life? Whereas I imagine we will always miss our lost loved ones, the gift of love in our life does seem to provide a nice tonic for the wounds. I'm glad you're starting to find peace.

LB said...

Our All Saints Day message in church today posted a vivid image of the "Church Triumphant" up in heaven in God's full glory, and the "Church Militant" still battling the ups and downs of our earthly life. With that I just pictured all of our little ones who have gone before us living in the full happiness with Christ. Its really hard for us here, but I think for them its Glorious! You will be blessed by the little life of your third someday again :) Glad you are healing!