Hello readers! So much to tell you, but to be honest, I have not felt like blogging. I'm doing this out of my love to you and nothing else, ha. So, we were on vacation with family this past week and the wine flowed like, well, wine. It was a great week, so relaxing and uplifting. Lots of laughter and no schedule. Perfect.
Friday morning I woke up really sad, not really able to put my finger on it. Was it my longing for Gabe? Was in time to finally bawl over the miscarriage? Or was it just the realization that my vacation was almost over? All I know is that I was able to finish the book Eat, Pray, Love on the beach and that really improved my mood.
Chapter 105 really spoke to me: "The Balinese don't let their children touch the ground for the first six months of life, because newborn babies are considered to be gods sent straight from heaven, and you wouldn't let a god crawl around on the floor with all the toenail clippings and cigarette butts. So Balinese babies are carried for those first six months, revered as minor deities. If a baby dies before it is six months old, it is given a special cremation ceremony and the ashes are not placed in a human cemetary because this being was never human; is was only a god. But if the baby lives to six months, then a big ceremony is held and the child's feet are allowed to touch the earth at last and Junior is welcomed to the human race."
This made me think about the incredible miracle it is that a child even makes it through nine months of pregnancy, not to mention the agony that is labor, and then its first year. Being a mother of an angel has made the reality of loss all too real. The miscarriage hasn't helped either.
Last night Kyle and I had an awful conversation. On our way to visit his parents, whom I am officially calling "Momma" and "Dad" now - come on, we've been married five years - we had a talk about the possibility that God may only ever grant us one earthly child. That possiblity was something I had not allowed my mind to fully devour. Just today I was telling someone about how we lost Gabe almost one year ago, and had a miscarriage two weeks ago (it's been two weeks already??!) He told me that his wife suffered three miscarraiges and that although they may be common, they never got any easier. So then I asked how many children they did have, thinking about the families I know who have six/seven kids with an additional two/three miscarriages. He replied that they had one son. Ugh. That might be us.
This whole time I've been worried about creating a sibling for Joel. That might not be God's plan. So, what am I to do? WWJD? Ha! He would want me to be positive and content in the life he has provided for me. So, now my energy and love will go completely to my son. He is my gift. He is a blessing to me. Any other child that comes our way will be another blessing. Wow, that was honest.