I’m trying to put it all in perspective. Bear with me here, I’m sure my thoughts will jump around and I may be hard to follow. I am mostly typing this all out hoping that I can begin to heal and help my children heal.

We are pretty sure that Sarah is miscarrying her baby. She has been bleeding and cramping since Friday evening. At first it was just pink and not a lot and I kept telling her that it was probably nothing and to not worry - everything would be OK. But it’s not OK. A trip to the ER and a trans vaginal ultra sound on Saturday revealed an empty sac and HCG levels do not indicate that she is 7 weeks pregnant. There is still a bit of hope, but not much of one. We will have more answers on Wednesday. The wait is killer. I watched her grieve the baby that was not planned, but very much wanted. I ache for my girl. I can’t make it better. I can’t kiss the boo boo. There’s not a big enough band aid. I can only hold her and cry with her. I don’t say “it’ll be OK”. It won’t be. Not for a long time.

Tragically, on Sunday morning, James lost a friend in a car accident. His friend was driving too fast (rumor is 90mph) and hit a tree. While he was wearing his seat belt and drugs and alcohol were not a factor, he died on the scene. He was supposed to graduate on Saturday. He had his whole life ahead of him. This was supposed to be a week of celebration for him and now his family is planning his funeral. It kills me to think the pain they are going through. It kills me to think that that could have been my child — but for the Grace of God. I watch my son grieve his friend and I wrap him in my arms and pray that I never lose him. I don’t want to let him go.

And beautifully in the midst of that, I witnessed a birth. A new life. I was able to be with my very dear friend’s daughter as she gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, Theo Augusta. All 7 lbs 3.5 ounces and 20.5 inches of sweetness and love.

But for Theo, I would want to go to sleep and start this weekend all over again. Life moves and we must keep going. I am not OK - but I will be. I have a wonderful support system. I may not have all of my friends here in Maryland to wrap me in their arms and let me cry on their shoulders, but I have virtual shoulders at my disposal every minute of the day.

P

Tags: miscarriage

This entry was posted on Tuesday, June 2nd, 2009 at 8:28 am and is filed under Motherhood. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.