Three years ago today, I lost you. So tiny, but you were mine. It was so early, but it didn't matter to me. You belonged to me for that space of time, but you have a piece of my heart forever.
I had to take a moment (okay, more than one moment, actually), to think about you. Truth be told, I don't think a day has gone by in which I have not thought of you. But today, on the third anniversary, I had to pause and ponder the experience of having you, loving you, and losing you.
I remember after I had Anna, I rejoiced in three successful pregnancies. I thought to myself, "Whew, I'm glad I never had to go through a miscarriage." I had no idea that one would be in store for me. At the time, I thought we were done having kids.
When I lost you, I thought to myself, "This is what I never, ever wanted to feel." The aching, the emptiness, the feeling of being utterly bereft once you left my person. The longing to hold you and tell you I love you, but having empty arms and a wounded heart.
And yet, I experienced God's presence in a different way. He met me there in my grief. I couldn't understand why He allowed it, and then in time, the eyes of my heart began to see that baby was still a gift. They changed me in subtle ways, like making me long more deeply for heaven, causing me to trust in His goodness and the gifts He gives, and realizing that a loss of something so beautiful here on earth, will be unutterable joy and gain in heaven. Their life exists for eternity, and that is no mistake, no accident. That gives me never-ending comfort. I know where he or she is, and one day I will join them too.
I gazed over at Celia today, playing the song I had on today three years ago, moments before the miscarriage took place, when I was doubled over in pain. I looked at her across the room, and we locked eyes and I smiled at her. She wouldn't look away, and she smiled right on back. It feels like it has come full circle, as Anna was nearly the same age when it happened that Celia is now. Anna brought me such comfort, being so little, and I COULD hold her and snuggle her, even when I could not hold my baby. Now that Celia is the same age (one month older), it feels surreal somehow, like I reached a milestone. As I gazed at her, I knew that if I hadn't lost our baby, she would not be here, because the pregnancies would have collided. God wanted her here and He has a plan for her, while my baby was not meant for this life. But the next, oh the next, he or she is already there!
The highest honor of my life has been to carry my five babies, even the one who was there for a blink of an eye. To experience life growing within me has been the greatest joy I have ever known. I can honestly say this is true for me now, even if it wasn't in the early moments I discovered I would lose my baby, that I am so happy I had them. I wouldn't go back and not have that pregnancy even if I could do so. I wouldn't wish they had never come. Instead, I am grateful I had the short time with them.
I thank God for the time we had together, and I often ask Him to tell my son or daughter how much I love them, and I can't wait to see them!
Until then, I will carry them in my heart, always!
