Tonight, as Lily was having one of her night terrors, I was laying next to her, holding her tight as she screamed in my ears and I felt your baby brother moving. I feel him kicking and squirming around a lot these days, and every wiggle feels like such a blessing. But this time it didn't prompt thoughts of what he would look like, or images of Lily and him together. Instead, he reminded me of you. The heart I never met, and never will meet. The heart that I never even heard beat ecause you were so small when we lost you.
For some reason, tonight I started to wonder if you were a boy or a girl. And what you would have looked like, what you would've done in your life. And I wondered what your name would've been, but I will never know. A blurry life of unknowns flooded my mind and broke me.
And I thought of how these kicks I am feeling right now would be so much stronger, because you would be twenty-six weeks old and your twenty-one week old brother wouldn't be here. Where I would be this September, in labor and delivery with you instead of a baby shower for this baby due in October. It all comes to me with hot tears. My heart would have done anything for your heart.
It all makes me ache. For the past & the future. I don't know you and I never will. But if you would have stayed, we wouldn't know this little love. And I don't know how to feel about any of that, but I think my heart will always be broken for you. When I lost you, I remember people telling me that I will be comforted by my next pregnancy. And I guess I am in a way, because every life is a miracle, but this doesn't heal, at least not yet for me.
It helps to try to be thankful, to be trusting in God's plan. To rest in knowing that we have been blessed with this new pregnancy after our loss. To know that Lily will grow with this brother, and I will do my best job mothering them. To be thankful for the short time I carried you, and to be thankful for the way you changed my heart -- you brought me such joy, you taught me so much about love. It helps not go wonder about the what-ifs or what might have been, or question why, but I miss you so much it hurts.
You are a piece of my heart, you are the piece of me I never met, and I will always love you.
(If you want to read more about our lost love and journey through miscarriage, read "Hello, baby // goodbye, baby", "letting my heart grieve", and "some things don't heal, at least not yet", and thank you for your kindness and prayers.)
this post was inspired by the #BISsisterhood and the weekly writing prompts by Blessed Is She. I tired, all week, to think of something helpful or insightful to write about, and at 11pm on Thursday night, this is what my heart poured out. Please be nice.