Ever since Asher was born and I tied my tubes I have found myself mourning again. Back when we lost that baby I told myself that that baby was coming back. That she was still going to join our family and that it was just a timing issue - that this body wasn't right for her. I didn't mourn a death but a postponement. But that doesn't mean I didn't go through an immense amount of pain but instead it softened the blow for me to think of it that way. In fact, one evening when I was putting Elijah to bed he asked me in his innocent 5 year old voice, "Did my sister die?" and I was overwhelmed with emotion and said, "Oh no, she's coming back, that body just didn't work for her." And then I got pregnant and hoped it was my daughter trying again but it wasn't. And I was glad to have Peter so I put the thought out of my head. And then I got pregnant again and I was too busy to think about the one we lost, yet I was sure that this was a girl. And then it was Asher. And during my c-section I had my tubes tied. I knew it was the right thing to do and I still do but it's meaning was not lost on me. It meant that the daughter I thought I hadn't lost, I had. It means the body of the baby I had and didn't bury was her body. It means the little child I held for a short time but didn't name was only given to me for that short time. At least in this life.
And all of that has come upon me again. Not all of the time - but in the quiet times. When I'm driving alone in the car, or sitting in church, or falling asleep. And I don't know what to do with that or if there is any need to even wonder. I think I would do it differently if I could. Recently I stumbled upon a friend's friend's blog and she was posting about the loss of her child - two weeks older than the one I lost. And she had portraits taken of her son, and her parents came to the hospital and held him. And they had a memorial service and buried his tiny body. And it hit me, "I didn't do that - I just let the hospital take her body and dispose of it like it was some useless organ or something." And she had no love of grandparent. And she had no name. And she still doesn't.
It's strange to be going through this now - harder because of the time between me and the loss. Loss is a strange teacher. It deepens your ability to have compassion but it also confuses you and twists something deep inside into a shape you have no name for. And it's not some clear cut relationship - and it's not there all the time. It's shapeless and nameless but it exists.
And when people ask if I have all boys I answer yes but I also have a tiny thought inside of me that says, "I don't know." Because I don't know. I don't know if that tiny spirit belongs to me. I don't know if she will be there waiting for me when I pass from this life to the next. I don't know if I have a daughter. And I don't know if I'm disrespecting a daughter just by wondering.
When I was pregnant with that baby I felt her move very early on. I started to feel her about 14 weeks. And ever time I felt her move I was overwhelmed with love. I felt so much love for that child. It was like I had this sweet secret around me and filling me with happiness all the time. Looking back I wonder if that wasn't her spirit staying close by me. If that was our special time together. I gave several silent prayers of gratitude to my Father in Heaven for giving me the gift of this child. And so when she died I felt tricked. I had given my heart to this child. We had loved and then she was taken. He knew how much I loved her and how grateful I was for her and yet he took her away. And I was hurt, I felt betrayed. And so I decided it just wasn't her time. And now I find myself here.
It's not that I don't have an immense amount of gratitude for my healthy boys. I love them with all my heart. I just wonder if I have a daughter that my heart needs to acknowledge. If I have a name to give.
