Tuesday, March 22, 2011
With every step I felt it... E. E. E. E. E.
I was out, enjoying my walk- the air was crisp- the sky was blue and all I could think about was E. And it was March. It is March.
September I laid on that bed, ready for surgery- a DNC- an abortion. Sure my baby was gone. I knew that. Not only was that heartbeat gone, so was my baby- but still I had hope that somehow this would help us know. Help me know. Why? Who?
There was A (Andrew), B (Jonasen), C (Ali Jane), D (Zach) and E (?). And we had seen that heartbeat. We saw it again... and again... and again... and still I knew something was wrong- but they say that when you see that heartbeat you're 'safe'.
I should have known better.
The heartbeat does not make you 'safe'. Twelve weeks does not make you 'safe'. Full term does not make you 'safe'. But still I held out hope.
And when that heartbeat was gone. That baby was gone. There was one thing I wanted and that was to know why? And because I know that such things rarely have an answer (and when they do ~cord~ it hardly made me feel better), what I really wanted to know was 'who'.
We were driving home after seeing that dark screen that once showed us E's heartbeat and my husband had to pull over. He couldn't drive. It was too much. It was all too much. It had happened again and he looked at me and he said, "We can't even give our baby a name. I don't know why it matters. But it does."
And days later as I lay on that bed- waiting for surgery, I prayed that my baby would have left enough that we would know the answer to our question... boy? girl? We would have our answer and we could give our baby a name.
I cried. I cried for it all. I cried that I wanted this answer so much~ that it meant so much to me. I needed a name. I needed a picture. For he was five about to turn six and I found it a comfort that they were together. They were together and though I had carried that baby -E- for only a few months, I could close my eyes and see their hands together. And that gave me peace. I could see those hands but I couldn't see whose hand he was holding.
I waited on that bed and was soon joined by familiar faces. Faces that have been with me on this journey since he put me on it. Nurses. They came. They cried. They held me. And they listened. They listened as I asked them to pray that somehow I would have the answers that I felt I needed.
And she said, "Laura. You know. You already know who that baby was- who that baby is. It's in there ~it's in you~ and if you don't see it now, you will. But you know. You do know."
There was so much blood. And after my surgery I could tell by the look on my doctor's face that she couldn't give me my answer. And she didn't. E. I would call the baby E. And that is who you were to me. ~E~ How I wish you had left me something...
But then it was March- the month you were to be born and I sat there with my arms on my stomach wishing it was swollen with your life- wishing that I could see that heartbeat once more. I had cried so much that first March. You were gone and so was she. I was getting ready for her funeral- cancer had taken her at such a young age. And I thought of you both two young lives gone- And all I wanted was some hope. Some life. I took a test, folded my hands on my stomach and thanked God that in that moment it could happen- That test showed it could happen- it could grow again. And it did. F (Sean Asher).
E~ you were sent for a reason- for a purpose- and I still wish that somehow I knew~ had the answers I sought- the answers that I seek still. But Sue was right. And I think I know.
I still can sometimes close my eyes and see your hands together, but I zoom out and see you walking (always walking away)- hand in hand with your brother. Your blond pigtails swaying in the golden sun.