My husband was coaching at a big tournament all weekend, so Nysse the dog and I spent most of the weekend together. Together, we:
– laid on the bed and watched the snow and birds out the window,
– played fetch with her favorite, green bone,
– baked pumpkin muffins,
– watched a couple Christmas movies (I’m not ready to give it up yet!),
– just hung out
I went to the annual meeting at church, complete with a soup supper ‘Crockpot Alley’. Is there anything as wonderful as a church potluck?
And we quietly acknowledged the passing of my due date.
It was pretty much as I thought it would be. I thought about our baby every second of that day. What stage of labor I would have been in. What the nursery would have looked like. What our life would have looked like.
I wore a remembrance necklace that my sister in law gave me when we moved back to MN, just days after the miscarriage. I hadn’t been able to wear it until that day, and now I haven’t taken it off.
That morning, we got McDonalds breakfast {#sorrynotsorry} and watched a movie in bed, snuggling as a family. I ran errands to my favorite places. I wandered Barnes & Noble, a cinnamon dolce latte in hand. I rambled around Target. I walked the mall. Then met Jared for some supper out, and sipped a big ol’ pomegranate margarita. Then we went home, and snuggled again as a family. Nysse the dog even got under the covers to snuggle up! It was like she knew.
I wondered how other mamas spent their would-be due dates. I wondered if they even remembered them. Sometimes I wonder if other mamas took their miscarriages as hard as I have, or if I’m overly sensitive, or if they’re just quieter. The other mamas I know who miscarried around the same time I did are all pregnant again, so I wonder if their minds are elsewhere, while mine feels stuck.
I wondered if my grandma was holding our baby.
And then, just like that, it was a new morning. Complete with fresh hope and new mercy and clean grace. And we have made it through a huge milestone. One that I wasn’t sure how to get through. But we did it. And now we remember, and keep moving.
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anna, you do and you don’t remember. for me it isn’t the date anymore and it oftens strikes at v random times (like hearing your story) but it is always with you and a part of you even as it gets easier. I’m glad you honored the day…food is good for the soul. snuggle time even better.
I can’t speak for anyone but myself, but I do like you did and somehow make it through those days. I would have a 13 year old this year. And last month our twins would have turned 3.
In the end, I have to just think God uses times like those for even bigger things. I would have been 19, single, and 5 months pregnant when I met PJ if I hadn’t miscarried. I’m pretty sure that would have been reason enough for him not to ask me out. And losing the twins turned into a huge spiritual breakthrough for me.
I don’t know what He has planned for you and your family, but I have no doubt that it’s big, important, and will change lives. Until then, trust Him to give you enough to get through the days.
I have zero experience to share or advice to offer…just hugs.
Anna,
Remembering is good…and when the next day comes…yes the mercies are new.
I’ve met so many who have lost this past year and even before and I think my babies are playing with theirs…or in my grandpa’s arms. It is comforting…and on the hardest days I am able to see Jesus holding them. Oh how that brings peace and hope and mercies new too.
Hugging you from the north metro!
*Hugs*
What a beautiful reflection! And beautifully expressed in words!
I know that this post is old, but I have been behind on reading your blog. That date will always be special. My due date as well as the date I had to deliver our already miscarried son are dates that have come with pain. It has lessened over the years, but it took a long time and a lot of healing. If I had delivered on my due date, we would have a 9 year old this June 8th. I also know how hard it is to see other women be able to move on in another pregnancy, it waited 6 years after our loss before we brought Seth home. I prayed a lot and sometimes argued with God. Take care!