I had a strange feeling about this pregnancy. Maybe because we didn't have to try this time (both of our other pregnancies required 2 years of fertility treatments). Something just seemed wrong.
Unfortunately, my mother's intuition was absolutely correct. On September 5, we found out the baby no longer had a heartbeat. On September 7 (Labor Day, ironically enough), I miscarried. I found it symbolic that I lost yet another loved one over the same weekend as my brother's anniversary.
I have never felt so carried by my friends and family as I did through my miscarriage. You really don't know how terrible a miscarriage is until you've walked through it. I know that sounds cliche... because we can't understand ANY loss until we've been there. But it seems especially true of this. I was in a dark place for a while, but the people who love me walked through it with me, and I came out on the other side feeling healed. I still mourn the loss of what could have been. But I learned that I am surrounded by amazingly strong women who will do what they can to help their friends. I am humbled and blessed.
I was also amazed that I felt stronger in my faith, rather than angry with God. I don't understand it, but am grateful that my response was to draw closer to God. I know that He has reasons that I can't always understand. But I trust Him even when the road is dark.
Bean was obviously very sad at the news that her brother or sister had decided to go straight to heaven, rather than join us on earth. I thought her response was so poignant, and yet so indicative of her innocence and sense of humor.
"It's not fair. The baby didn't get to do what we're all supposed to do. Be born, grow up, get married, have kids, get old... and get fat." - Bean
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