Telling Everyone is the Hardest Part

I glimpse it between slow blinks. It's always at the top right hand corner of my medical sheet. Multipara 5-2.

Nothing in this life has been more sorrowful to me than those numbers. 5-2. blink. 5-2.

Five verified pregnancies. Two live births.

Five times life has quickened in my womb. Only twice have I been given the chance to hold that child in my arms.

The knowledge that it wont ever be 5-3 brings me to my knees.

The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away and who am I to complain when He takes from all the abundance of His giving? Who am I to cry salt tears surrounded by the dirty diapers and dishes piled high in the sink and bright plastic that has become so much background noise and yet speaks so loudly of all that He has blessed me with.

I, more than most women, understand what a blessing all those plastic toys strewn around my house truly are.

And who am I, anyways, to mourn a child that, let's all be honest with each other, I never exactly expected. But unexpected was not unloved or even unwanted and even in two short weeks shock can turn into excitement can turn into love. I don't have any excuse except that once a child was imagined, a child was longed for, and once my arms knew to expect another miracle they felt terrible empty without it.

The Lord hath giveth and I've grown to understand that He may also take away. I have learned to stand as tall as Job. God is good. All the time.

And I have so much to be thankful for. Two sons healthy. That I miscarried early, before I had a chance to fall deeper in love, and easily, with no uncomfortable medical procedures required. There is always so much to be thankful for and while my mind sometimes will wander, do fetus's who die before their hearts even begin to beat go to heaven? when is it a life and when is it just an expectation?, I mostly count the blessings. Two sons healthy. So much more than many have been given.