It's Valentine's Day, and Bobby and I got to spend the whole day together, but it's not exactly how I would have imagined.
To say this has been a shitty week, would be the understatement of my life, but it's the only word that comes close to accurately describing what's happened over here.
On Monday, I went in for my routine monthly prenatal doctor's appointment, only to find out that baby Cadriel didn't survive past nine weeks. I was supposed to measure at 11 weeks. With no physical indicators on my end, I was shocked. When delivering the news, the doctor was perfectly delicate, very sympathetic, and also straight to the point... they needed to get the baby out of me soon. I was told that the best option for success was to have surgery to remove everything. Let's just add injury to insult (I switched the phrase for this case). There is nothing like getting up way too early, to do something you hate, that you then have to pay lots of money for... and on Valentine's day. Truth be told, I'm not a huge Valentine's girl, but I sure as hell didn't want to spend it in the hospital, losing a part of my supposed future. Bobby was by side, or in the waiting room the whole time, and I guess when push comes to shove, that's what love is after all.
I'm not angry with God. He didn't do this. Nor do I believe that this is part of some amazing plan He has. He redeems things, but doesn't give us our pain. We live in a world that is so broken, so pain filled, and so rampant with suffering, and because of that, things like this happen. He is not responsible, but He is near....He was with me in the room when I first found out. He was with me when I drove home with wet, red eyes. He was with me when I came home and Bobby held me. He was with me when we told Layla what happened. He was with me I escaped to the bathroom to cry more. He was with me when I couldn't sleep that night. He was with me when my dear friends showed up with dinner and goodies. He was with me when my amazing friend offered to help get me to New York to see her and get away. He was with me when friends called with condolences. He was with me when I shed tears over receiving each bouquet of flowers sent. He was with me today, when this loss was physically finalized. And He will be with me with each breath I breathe through this recovery- emotional and physical. "Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted." Never have I felt more sadness, never have I felt more comfort. Strangely, there's been blessing in this.
See the thing with loving anything, is that it is a risk. In order for love to be true, there must be a choice, and if there is no choice, there is no love. When you choose to love, you open your heart, and when your heart is open, it's vulnerable, and when it's vulnerable, both good and bad have equal opportunity at your heart. But, just because there is the chance for bad to creep in, it doesn't mean you close your heart to the good things. If you never risked, you'd never love. And that's what we want. No matter what form of love you experience, i.e. romantic, friendship, a family member, or the love of a child, you are exposing your fragility. It's terrifying. But we do it anyway, because that's what we long for- to love and be loved. My heart wanted this baby, and though I've had two very healthy pregnancies in the past, there is always risk involved with conceiving and carrying a child, because the unknowns are at every single corner. I took the risk anyway, because I love. I loved the baby the second we found we were pregnant, and because I loved that baby right away, I mourn its death.
Love hurts sometimes, but love also heals. It does both. Never in my life have I experienced this kind of pain, but I've also never experienced the kind of love, support, and help in time of need, like I have this week. There's been a few times this week where I've said, "If you're going to go through something this shitty, go through it with people who care about you." It makes everything different. My grief is thick, for lots of reasons, but my hope and sense of comfort is just as real as my sadness. It's an odd place to be, but it's what I know. I am letting the tears flow as they may, and letting comfort and peace build me up when it comes. I don't think this is something you ever "get over," in the emotional sense, but I do believe that as time passes, the sting will fade, and I'll be able to take fresh steps forward. No matter what though, my heart will be forever imprinted because of this little baby that just couldn't survive.
The journey to having another baby may not be over, but today is a major pitfall, and that has to be named for what it is, and be ok. This sucks, I hate this, didn't want this, and wouldn't wish it on anyone. Period.
So, Bobby and I spent the day together on Valentine's Day. It may not be how I imagined spending this day, but I'm certainly not questioning Bobby's love me, and that is celebration enough.
**My heartfelt thanks to everyone who has called, texted, emailed, fb messaged, stopped by, and helped with Layla and Cullen. It's absolutely unbelievable to me that there has been such an outpouring of love, prayers, and support. Truly, I give you my deepest gratitude. Thank you.**
