Turn! Turn! Turn!

Today was the day I was expected to give birth.
I’ve spent the last several months (8, tomorrow, to be exact) trying to move on, trying to think of anything but what wouldn’t happen today (and failing miserably). Bible verses, emails and long conversations with friends, prayer, holding on to my husband, EATING…all things I have used to get through the bad days. Those things have served me well, but I’ve still had a very difficult time moving forward.

Today, perhaps by coincidence but perhaps by God’s hand, is the day that I got a smiley on my ovulation test pee stick.
I couldn’t help but think that perhaps it is a sign.
The old song by The Byrds has been stuck in my head for a considerable number of hours today. You know the one. It’s based on this passage from the Bible:

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 (New Living Translation)

 ¹ For everything there is a season,
      a time for every activity under heaven.
 ² A time to be born and a time to die.
      A time to plant and a time to harvest.
 ³ A time to kill and a time to heal.
      A time to tear down and a time to build up.
 ⁴ A time to cry and a time to laugh.
      A time to grieve and a time to dance.
 ⁵ A time to scatter stones and a time to gather stones.
      A time to embrace and a time to turn away.
 ⁶ A time to search and a time to quit searching.
      A time to keep and a time to throw away.
 ⁷ A time to tear and a time to mend.
      A time to be quiet and a time to speak.
 ⁸ A time to love and a time to hate.
      A time for war and a time for peace.

 

Maybe I am finally moving into my time to heal, build up, laugh, dance, to quit searching (for answers, reasons), to mend…

 

Where troubles melt like lemon drops...

This verse was omitted from Judy Garland’s recording of Over The Rainbow used in The Wizard of Oz, but I just read it and needed to post it:

 

Someday I'll wake and rub my eyes
And in that land beyond the skies,
You'll find me
I'll be a laughing daffodil
And leave the silly cares that fill
My mind behind me

 

Tears on my pillow*

So, Saturday’s baby shower was fine. I had a rough start, mostly due to not being able to disguise my emotions well enough and it upsetting my mother. But after a little while I was able to fake smile my way through it. It wasn’t as horribly uncomfortable as I had imagined, but it wasn’t exactly my idea of a stellar afternoon.

Friday evening I went out to buy a couple more outfits to go with my gift. I felt a little stupid for feeling so melancholy, but the whole time I was looking at baby clothes, I couldn’t stop the barrage of thoughts about what it would have been like to have been shopping for my baby. Would Austin be there with me? Would we sigh and smile at the cute little outfits? Would we be shopping for a boy or a girl? I picked out some cute girly outfits for their baby and then perused the clearance rack and found a gender-neutral set of footie pajamas, size 3 months, and bough them for our baby would-be and/or future baby. I went home and cried so much that I had to change the sheets on our bed because of my mascara running off onto them (but, I needed to change the sheets anyway, SO..)… I still feel a little stupid for being so emotional over the whole thing, but, there you have it. I had been doing mostly well for a few weeks up until that point, so I think twenty-minutes of violent sobbing while alone in my own bed are acceptable. Right?

 

*As an aside, completely unrelated to miscarriage: This song will forever remind me of a boy named Michael Salisbury, three years my senior and from Kentucky, with whom I had a brief but sweet summer fling (at a Baptist church convention!) when I was 15. Those were awesome kisses at the time, although I can honestly say (and not just because I am obliged) that my husband’s kisses are much, much better. :) The reason for the connection between him and the song is that we heard it on an oldies station and he made up some alternate words to it – “Tears on my pillow, food in my hand, if I don’t drop this sandwich, I’ll be an even bigger man.” So. Ha. Ha. Ha.

 

 

heart burn

It’s been a difficult couple of weeks. Several people – at least five that I can think of – have announced their pregnancies. While these are people I like and care about and I genuinely want to be happy for them, it still stings to hear and see them being all excited…It’s hard not to think “We never got to share that excitement with anyone.”

And then, on top of that, my brother’s girlfriend’s baby shower is tomorrow. I am helping. Not sure how I feel about it. And she’s having a c-section on Monday, the 19^th. My best friend said that would give me time to get ready. But I’m not sure I’ll be ready until it’s over. I’m glad it’s not next Thursday. That was my due date. I’m also glad it’s happening on a Monday – I will have to go to class immediately after work. We’ll have counseling the next night. Assuming they go home Wednesday, I might get to skip the hospital altogether. I hope that being a little thankful for that doesn’t make me a jerk.

It’s not that I’m not happy for them, but it’s so hard to see my mom go crazy and be excited when I know that if It hadn’t happened, I would be going into labor literally any day now. I know that obviously my baby wasn’t supposed to be born this week or next, or I’d be sitting here with a giant belly and bad heartburn. It’s just hard not to think “it should be this certain way because that’s how it was supposed to be originally”…It’s so hard to not think about the things I didn’t get to do or have…like, how I know FIVE people who have announced their pregnancies in the last like, two weeks and I just think “I didn’t get to tell anyone,”  and “no one got excited for us.” It’s stupid to dwell on it but…it’s there.

Some weeks, it’s like I’m reliving August 16^th over and over.