The Sting (The Quiet Life of Violet)

Today was my due date.

Besides the obvious difficulty of this day, my heart hurts a little more than usual.

I feel a sting, much like that of lemon on a paper knick. Like a finger nail that's been bitten a bit too far, or a cut that you keep splitting open. Living everyday life -- dishes, driving, dinner and then... smack. You hit the cut on the counter and it opens a little, burns, reddens and then slowly heals.

Today, I would have had a baby.

When I was going through my miscarriage, I was very lucky to have the most wonderful doctor. He was and still is amazingly kind and understanding, having had his wife go through the same thing twice. I expressed how important it was for me to have SOMETHING for remembrance, some thing to bury and physically grieve over. He, being the awesome doctor and person that he is, was somehow able to sneak me a bit of my miscarriage (I had to have the failed pregnancy removed since my body wasn't releasing it and leaving it in could result in a very dangerous infection for me). Anywho, I was able to take the little piece home (everything was done in a sterile and clean manner) and put it in the freezer for when I was ready to do something with it.

Last month, it hit me. I woke up one morning and just knew that it was time. I went to Home Depot, bought a pretty buttercream colored pot and some organic potting mix. My friend McKenzie had just been married and as wedding favors, she and her Husband gave everyone little ready-to-plant tree sproutlettes. That morning, I just knew. My favor was meant to be "the plant"

I drove home from the garden department in silence. No radio. No phone.

Dustin was still at work and I was very thankful, as I needed the time alone.

I lit a candle and placed it on the counter.

I took the bit of the miscarriage (truthfully, it was placental tissue... no baby) out of the freezer... Wow. Yeah, I defrosted the representation of our baby. That sounds wrong on SO many levels, but it was so right. It felt so right in my heart.

I put soil into the pot and poked a hole in the middle.

I put my favorite fortune (I collect them) into the bottom of the little grave.

I dropped a beautiful glass bead that Leigh-Ann sent me to the bottom.

I then looked at the little pink bit that would have been my baby. Tears rolled down my face and I told the little bit how much I loved it even though it never breathed. How sad I was that I saw it's heartbeat one day and three days later, it stopped. How good I would have been to it. How I thought it was a girl. How Dustin would have been an amazing Father. Through tears, I told the little bit how we understood that no matter how much it hurt us, it just wasn't time and we respected that.

And then, I read aloud the card that Lacy wrote to the baby. I read it for myself. For the baby that I wanted so badly but wasn't ready to be mine. I let Lacy's kind words come out of my mouth and accepted them.

I cried hard.

Really, really hard.

I let the candle continue to burn.

Dustin came home a bit after that.

We planted the tree sprout together.

And then, we let the candle burn out.

Good bye, Baby.

We're ready for you to come back when ever you're ready. <3

Love always,

Mommy and Daddy

5 Comments

this is so beautiful... i find myself crying a little as i type.
always remember that fortune honey.
you will have that baby.
and you know i am ALWAYS here if you need ANYTHING AT ALL
even if you just want to complain about how it sucks.
that baby will come back soon enough, honeybee.
i love you!

Posted by: Natalie | 09/12/2010 at 02:01 PM

i love you sweetheart

Posted by: Leigh-Ann | 09/12/2010 at 04:42 PM

Wow. As someone who aspires to be a young mother but has had life/nature decide repeatedly against it, I feel so much empathy. But good things will come. There will be a way. You will get what you want. That's what I tell myself, and I'm telling you that same. Stay strong! Here's to motherhood :)

Posted by: jenn wadsworth | 09/12/2010 at 06:20 PM