September

September: The ninth month of the year.

September: The month the heartbeat stopped. And I held his precious body. Kissed him goodbye.

September: The month the heartbeat stopped. And I could only wonder... What would have been... Who would have been...

September.

As a teacher, this is the month there is a flurry of activity. Setting up a new classroom. Wondering what will come of the future year. Meeting the little faces that will change me.

And then it hits me.

It's another September.

Seven years ago today his heart still beat inside me. I remember wondering if it were possible for my body to stretch any more. It was hard to breathe. But I assumed the longer they were in, the better. Seven years ago today, I was different. I was excited. I was whole. And he was still here.

Three years ago today there was another's heart beating inside me. And I wondered who this last child would be? I had a feeling it was a girl. I felt great and looked forward to a March birth. Never one to hide good news, I was telling others, asking for their prayers- For though losing a child could never happen twice, I was beginning to bleed. But I was hopeful. I was broken, but healing. And that heartbeat was still here.

But it was September.

I would say that September is a horrible month. One I'd like to forget. Skip all together.

But then-

September was the month I first became a mother. The month my precious Jonasen entered my life. The month my transition to strength and grace and forgiveness began.

September.

For now I will welcome you. For I've tried to escape you and yet you still come, again and again... For seven years I've prayed you'd forget, yet you always come. And I always find myself here. Torn. Wondering how I should feel about you. Wondering still.

September.