I think, if you blink, you could miss it. The illusive final slivers of happiness, like the lost sandbanks in high-tide. I think, the miss in miscarriage is the most important part because to miss something is infinite mourning. I think, if tears came from wells, mine would have dried up by now. I think, if we are all on every miracle's bucket list that I seem to be lower on the list than other people and would really like to know what I did wrong. I think, saying goodbye to a wish comes with absolutely no finality. An empty pit. Black abyss. Forever, achingly, echoingly, over and over. Like the unanswered questions of the universe.
As if, in the seconds before, you knew exactly what your life would be and now it is nothing at all like you could have possibly planned. Sesame Seed Baby. Your eyes were starting to develop this week. I bet they would have been the greenish-blueish-grey of miracles. I'm sorry that we will never see them earthside. How the heart aches. That much I know.
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This week, you are the size of a poppyseed, says the internet. And growing by the second!
I am going on long walks and eating lots of veggies, drinking a ridiculous amount of water, and taking new prenatals that have Choline for brain development. I hope you're as math smart as your daddy, book smart as me and creative as both of us combined! We love you, little poppyseed. Our sweet Maybee, you're on the way!
Our home is strewn with pregnancy tests; one that felt too good to be true, another to confirm. This is the start of our greatest blessing. Our most wonderful adventure. As your dad serenaded me with Endless Love, I surprised him with news of your beginning. We are just so happy. We went to temple tonight. A little Shalom Alechem and it was glorious, to welcome Gd, to welcome you, to bask in this gdliness. In days that, now, feel full of gratitude like I never could have imagined, it did not feel like enough to have thank yous into the air, this fulfillment required a trip to Gds house. Me in a dress and cardigan and your dad in a polo and slacks, we felt like the All-American family, tonight. I took your dad on a little scavenger hunt to find the bun in the oven and we ate homemade cinnamon buns in celebration. I have never, not once, felt so at peace. Now, stay with us, little one. Let's do this life together. |
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March 2024
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