Today is Tuesday. Tuesday is the day on which I should be one week closer to holding my baby. But I am no longer pregnant, so I can't say that we hit 13 weeks today, one week away from the end of the dreaded first trimester. I can't say that we have only 5 more weeks until we can know if our baby is a boy or girl. I don't even know what fruit my baby would be the size of this week.
It was a Tuesday that I had my first spot of red blood, and perhaps was the day that my baby died.
It was last Tuesday at this time in the morning that we saw not a squirming, kicking baby, but an empty sac.
I hate Tuesdays.
So, Lord, I need you to redeem Tuesdays. I'm going to start my healing today by telling you all that I named our baby Max Samuel, Max because that is the name that I heard last Saturday when I fell down the stairs and I worried that my baby might have died, and Samuel, "Because I asked the LORD for him." (I Samuel 1:20) May I cry out to God like Hannah, who did not become bitter, but gave her first born son to the Lord, even after many years of a closed womb. She is my new hero. How she did that, I will never understand.
I love you, my Max.
I forgot to tell my sweet husband "happy one and a half year anniversary" yesterday. I miss him so much (he's out of town for an interview, currently).
Jonny, I love you. You are everything that is good about life. I'm so thankful that you are there to make me laugh, and that you hardly ever make me cry. Losing a baby stinks, but I wouldn't want to do it with anyone else by my side. I love you forever and ever, my darling.
This is a great post by Mandie Lane, who had two miscarriages before going on to have a beautiful baby boy: http://mandiefrazier.blogspot.com/2007/10/things-not-to-say-to-me.html