Sunday, July 5, 2009

Little Big Girl

It's an interesting Sunday morning here. Yesterday I was driving down the road when our car started to shake violently for a split second. The violent shaking stopped almost as soon as it started, the car dipped to the right, and I heard a grounding noise. Something caught my eye out the passenger window.

That something, I quickly observed, was my tire. Rolling down somebody's drive way. Several good samaritans, a few bewildered police officers, and a knight of a father in law later we were back on the road. Going no more than 30 miles an hour. Home. And only home.

Last night my Tommy started to fix the tire only to have the jack collapse and fall on his foot. A friend came to the rescue with a bigger jack only to encounter about 300 other problems before my Tommy threw the towel in for the night and came in to cuddle sleepy-sad babies.

This morning our friend came back over so that he and my Tommy could finish in time for church.

I had everyone's clothes laid out and told the girls to go take a shower. I really only meant Abigail and Emily. Katherine saw them grab their clothes and head for the shower. She grinned a grin only a girl on a mission can grin and grabbed her pile of clothes as she ran (as much as a 19 month old can run) to catch up with her sisters.

She's our little big girl, every day joining a new big kid activity to leave her baby ones behind.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

For 14 Weeks ...

For 14 weeks I was given the immense joy and pleasure of carrying a new life even while God Himself was busy knitting the new creation together. God chose me, and me alone, to hold this baby. I am so grateful that I was given this time with my creator and the baby that He gave me for such a short time.

Sunday I began spotting and Monday we went to the hospital. We were given an ultrasound after many hours of waiting. She moved the wand around and poked a lot of buttons but never said a word. Finally I asked if she had seen the baby, if there was a heart beat. She said that she wasn't able to tell me, that if she did she could have lost her job. I tried my hardest to hold it together but the tears came anyway.

She then turned the sound on and I thought I heard the baby's heartbeat so I was overjoyed. I saw the screen just a bit and was able to see the beautiful profile of a tiny little face. However, there were no little fists swishing by that tiny profile. I saw where the fluttering of a little heart should have been, yet there was only stillness.

I was hoping beyond hope that what I thought I saw and what I really saw were not the same. I kept thinking back to the swooshing heartbeat I heard and just waited for the doctor to come in with good news.

When she came in, there was no good news to be heard. The heartbeat I heard was my own. The tiny baby's heart had stopped beating at least a week ago.

I knew that this little one was already at the feet of Jesus and with our little Anna, yet I still held him within. I begged for her not to do a d&c. I know that it may sound bizarre and even a little morbid, but I longed to hold him within as long as God would allow.

My Tommy's parents allowed us use of their beach house as a retreat to lose our baby in privacy. After many hard hours he came this morning. I've never forgotten how beckoning Anna's tiny hands were. Benjamin's were just the same. So tiny, yet they looked like they were just waiting to curl around my finger even though they will never be given the chance. So tiny. So tiny, but so real.

My Tommy and I are so blessed to watch our living children grow and play, yet each new achievement, each new experience brings grief knowing we will never experience those new things with our tiny Benjamin. We'll never get to hear him cry, nor will we get to comfort that cry away.

Tomorrow we will bury him at sunset and we would covet your prayers.