A Part of Us - with Jesus

How do I start...? I'm not questioning the "why", but I am still grieving.

Another little baby of ours, is no longer being carried by me, but by the hands of Jesus.

This tiny one was carried for 11 weeks.

Almost to the point of "safety", or at least till we can announce the news to others without thoughts of "maybe we shouldn't say anything just yet" - you know, those "it's too early" guilty feelings. We did share with our families our excitement over baby three. Mentally I was ready for having three - ready to tackle it.

Bring it on. And it might as well as been twins. :)

The first trimester was easy...too easy. I was queasy, but not sick. Just extremely tired. I knew that was strange. (Though every midwife will say, "every pregnancy is different".) I held onto hope, as I read online about other mom's who were really sick with their first two, and then totally fine with number three. But I kept remembering my mom; every time she wasn't sick for the first trimester, she would lose that precious baby. (five in all) So, both James and I, although excited and hopeful, knew the possibilities of losing this one were probable.

Then there were some signs of a coming miscarriage. I cried, and called James right away. He came home and just sat with me for a bit, and we both had some tears about this impending loss we thought...

Then we waited. I thought it would be 24 hours, like the last one, and was dreading the labor. It was hard, I remembered. Almost like a real birth - but with no joy at the end. No crying, darling, sweet baby to enjoy and lose sleep over... so we waited.

Some friends brought me some beautiful autumn flowers and some special chocolate when they heard about this possible miscarriage. So thoughtful. Meant a lot. Especially since very few people knew.

Friday afternoon, James and I went to a wedding. Just us - like a date! On the way, I started to feel worse, and I wondered if I should have tried to go. But we enjoyed the wedding, and the visiting. I did have to sit down a lot. The reception dinner was about to begin, when I realized that things were changing. Not now...

We think we may have seen the baby. Not sure.

Whatever the case, the baby was very tiny. I sobbed and sobbed as I sat on the floor. "Not this way, God, please..." I wanted to have some type of remembrance of this baby's short life. A picture, a chance to hold it, even a little box that held it's small body...anything, to remember this child.

James was so wonderful, so strong, so himself. Nelly came downstairs and let me cry on her...

I had been crying so hard that James and I went outside for a bit, to let my eyes "un-puff". We couldn't leave right away, so the rest of the evening we visited.

I was thankful that it was a painless delivery. God was gracious. And through this whole episode, God gave peace. I am at peace with this loss. Peace with His will. I'm thankful for that.

Today, I'm fine. Can't believe that it's over. Wishing I could still hold that one within me. Yet, I am looking forward to doing some things that I knew I wouldn't be able to accomplish while pregnant. But, I'd rather be expecting this little one.

Tears will come and go for a while. In some ways, this miscarriage as they call it, is not as hard as Yachal's. Maybe, because we have two children;  it wasn't as hard physically, and we had been almost expecting it for a while. Still, when I think of it, another baby of ours is gone. I'll never get to cuddle it, sing to it, or love it here. But, Dad Heikoop said something about love, which gave me this new perspective.

I feel like I have this love which can't help our baby in heaven, but I now need to re-direct that love, channel it, into Erik and Katelyn's lives. That love I have for our tiny one, needs to be put to use. Not wasted in sorrow (though there has to be some grieving) but giving life to the ones God has put in my care for a season.

Really, we only have a season to love anybody.

Whether it's two years, 28 years, or 11 weeks.

Love where God wants you to.