She might judge me as she has struggled with fertility and I have not. She waited and prayed and went to doctors to help her, perhaps she sought homeopathic remedies. She got pregnant and waited to share her news with everyone. She waited 12 weeks because that is the safe time to share the news, the danger of miscarriage would soon be over. I imagine she was bursting with excitement; the excitement that she and her husband shared between them and only them, life, growing inside of her, the Amazing Secret. Her clothes were beginning to tighten; her slim waist began to thicken as the Amazing Secret gave itself away. She began to glow and people whisphered as she walked past, noticing her glow. She would be a mother and the Amazing Secret told the world. Her dreams had long been filled with laughter of her baby. Her life would be consumed with mothering this child. It has been her dream for so long. And now she was on the verge, closer than she had ever come before. There had been too many negative pregnancy tests to count. Always the definitive period demonstrating the inability of her body to host. Not this time, this time it is happening. The weeks pass by and the tests results are positive. She begins to feel the fluttering of butterflies in her belly. Is that my baby, she wonders? She and her husband prepare to “meet” their baby via ultra sound.
The baby looks like an alien being, riding in a cozy, warm space shuttle. She is comforted seeing her baby, ten fingers and toes, beating heart. They return home, after studying the pictures on the ride home, they proudly display the pictures on the refrigerator. It is only after they burned the images in their minds, that they learn something is wrong.
The pain she must feel the feeling of being robbed. The sheer horror of the cruelness of this loss is beyond words. I have not experienced the loss that she has. But my heart hurts for her and my eyes tear for her. I cannot identify with the feelings I can only empathize with her. From a mother to a mother, woman to woman, although her baby was not born nor said his first words, she is still a mother. The magnitude and depth of her vulnerability and rawness is evidenced by her blankness. She hurts. No words can comfort her. This is a pain that only she can bear and only she can claim victory over. I can only imagine the overwhelming feelings of this loss. The baby so wanted and so longed for.
Does she feel like her body has betrayed her and her desire, her heartfelt desire, to become a mother? Her body did betray her, but faith will prevail. His plans are far greater than that which we see before us. It does not negate her pain, nor does it mitigate her hatred of her body. So we will pray, each night, my children and I, we will pray for her. We will pray that her heart will heal from this unspeakable loss.