So, It has been 2 weeks since our miscarriage. I would like to say that I am back to my normal self, but I'm not. I feel fine. There are no physical issues to worry about, but if I'm being honest here, and why wouldn't I be, I just don't FEEL normal. Maybe I never will again.
Something has changed in me. It seems silly that I would have these feelings after only being 5weeks along when I lost her. I always called our baby her... it drove Nick crazy as there was no way to know for sure. I will probably continue to refer to it as a female also. I am a changed person.
I used to say that "God would never plan a miscarriage for my life, because He knows that would send me over the edge." I really thought that was a true statement also. So to say that I am surprised that I am not in a clinically depressive state is an understatement. and actually I would say that 7 years ago, actually even 2 years ago, I would say that this is true as I was not in the same place then that I am now. I was WEAKER. I depended on God for the big stuff, but wasn't trusting Him to carry me through it- maybe just to meet me on the other side.
Losing my job at St. Pauls, along with all of the people that I thought to be my best friends at the time, prepared me for this loss. I'm not saying that these are the same thing, but in that moment in time 2 years ago, I HAD to trust Him. I HAD to put on my full armor everyday just to finish the school year and face the people each day who I used to call friend who at that time were making my work place a living and breathing Hell. My Father carried me through those days and gently placed my feet upon a solid foundation at the end of that journey. Had I not had that experience, and known that God cared about me personally INCLUDING my little stuff, there is no way that I could have made it through this without a deep dip into the depression pool.
My heart still longs for that little baby. I haven't yet turned off the pregnancy tickers on my cell phone and ipad, so each week I get a reminder of where my Bumblebee would be if she were still with me. 7 weeks and 2 days... but who's counting? What good is remembering or tracking? There is no good in it, there is no use for it, but actually turning those off means that I have fully moved on, and I don't feel ready for that. I don't feel ready to let her go and forget that she would have been developing arms and legs at this point.
So I remember her, and think of her daily. I miss "tummy talks" with Nick. Each night he talked to her and prayed for her. I miss talking to her in the car and teaching her about bad drivers and pet peeves (in the same discussion). I miss knowing that she is there. I miss having that tangible reminder that God keeps His promises and honors faithfulness and perseverance. Not that I am saying that there is nothing tangible in my life to remind me of those things, but this is the LONGEST I have had to wait for anything and to have it finally within sight and then to see it go with such finality is hard.
We planted two rose bushes the day after we received final word from our doctor. I plan to find a Bumblebee garden decoration to put there among the roses. Nick and I talked about getting little Bumblebee tattoos, but haven't made any definite moves in that direction. We still seek out Bumblebee items for a tangible reminder, but somehow none of that stuff feels like enough. In reality they are just things and could never take the place of our child.
So, if when you see me you think, there is just something a little different about her, remember that I went on record first as saying that I am different now. I don't have any strong desires to be around other people. One or two at a time is probably just about right. If I am in a large group and don't speak, it is because there is nothing to say that won't somehow and in someway bring me back to the thought of our loss.
It is a strange turn of events that I am a hostess for a baby shower for a dear friend of mine this coming weekend. Even as I was mourning the probable loss of my baby, I was making shower invites for her, and even now that it is the week before I am spending my time making a baby quilt as her gift. Honestly it is all helping me to continue on. Helping me to heal. I still tear up when I think of her and the life we will not get to live together, but I know that God is carrying me through this. He is going to place my feet once again on solid ground and I will be stronger for it.
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