I remember going to my first pregnancy office visit with my second child. I was excited and nervous. The nurse was running through her long list of questions and she asked me how many children I had, living and/or dead. I was so struck by the question I couldn't respond. I had people very close to me that would have to give a sad answer. It gave me that sick feeling in my heart, and I patted my little rounded belly, reassuring myself and baby no.2 that we would be ok...
Two short months later I was back at the dr, so excited and eager. I had my phone out to record his little heartbeat and was making jokes with the midwife. Life was happy and good and blissful.
The longer God has allowed me to live, the more moments, good and bad, I've collected. You know the ones I'm talking about, that leave those lasting impressions. Some of my favorites include meeting my husband at a high school football game when I was 14. I still remember his smile, how he said "hi" in that nonchalant way. Or when I walked down toward the beach on our wedding day, the breeze blowing my hair, holding my dad's arm, and seeing that tear trickle down George's face. The moment I held my baby sister, how warm she was and so tiny. Giving birth to Pierce, my husband's excitement, holding him for the first time, his chubby cheeks and sweet face.
When I was five, my parents knelt down in front of me and explained to me that my grandfather had passed away. That moment has been one of the most defining of my life. I learned so much in a few short moments; what it meant to die, what it meant to grieve, how very much I loved that man and what he meant to me. I could never go back to the time when I didn't know those things, and losing that innocence, that hurt, too.
On March 19th, 2013, it was the same. The laughter stopped when the little monitor was silent. The image of my baby laying lifeless in my belly, it will never go away. My sweet husband's whisper " there's no heartbeat anymore, is there?" still echoes in my mind. The way my first angel boy patted my back as I cried big heaping sobs and his tiny whispers of " it okay, mommy, it okay" are etched on my heart.
My second baby's lifeless body was removed the next day. I never got to hold him, kiss him or hug him. But I'm still his mommy. And he is still my Angel.
The little chair I ordered for him came the day after he was born. It sits along side his big brother's at their playtable. A constant reminder that I'm a mother of two, one living and one waiting to be with us again.
This Mother's Day, I celebrate all of you, sweet mommies. The ones who have grieved as I have, the ones whose mamas are with my angel, and those that never have been blessed with the joy and pain of motherhood. If you are a woman with love in your heart for the little creatures that have come in or out of your life, you are a mom. I thank you for being you, because we could all use a little more understanding, patience, and love in our lives.
