I don’t want to dwell on sad things, but there are a few times a year where I’ll allow myself and feel like I owe it to the babies that aren’t here. I recently read this posted by a website contributor:
“I should have been getting ready to find out the gender of my baby. I should have been shopping for onesies. I should have been crying tears of joy. There should have been a flicker, there should have been life where there was only silence. Where there was only stillness.”
I thought it was such a perfect description of a large part of what you struggle with following a miscarriage. It was the hardest with the first one because I didn’t know yet. As soon as that test was positive I was daydreaming about my baby: what she would look like, how we would spend our days together, what I would name her, what I would buy for her, where we would put her stuff, what she would wear, what it would be like to watch her play soccer, what I would read to her, what I would teach her. I loved her so much. I couldn’t wait to experience everything and I was excited to go look at the baby section in the store. Then one morning I woke up and my baby was gone and everything stopped and my heart was shattered and all of those wonderful things I’d been dreaming about the past weeks since I’d gotten that positive test became painful memories. For the following weeks the thoughts that occupied me were “I should have been…” And every year in early March I still think “I should have a girl having a birthday right now,” and spend a few moments picturing her and how happy she is running around and opening her gifts in her little dress and a bow in her curly light brown hair. But I know she’s safe and comfortable and waiting for me.
I don’t have as vivid of pictures of any other babies, and I think it’s because for them I knew what could happen so I didn’t let myself daydream about them. July 7 is coming up. Michael should have been born around then and should have been turning 2 around now. I think he’d like sailboats right now for some reason, so I made this little doodle for him. Someday I’ll paint a nicer picture. 🙂
I tried to look up what a sailboat symbolizes and people seem to think it’s navigation. Navigation of what, I dunno. Nothing I saw sort of clicked about why I associate a sailboat with him.
ETA: My mom looked up a sailboat in her dream thingie book, and it said: A sailboat could represent being led by the Holy Spirit. “The wind blows wherever it wants, just as you can hear the wind but can’t tell where it comes from or where it is going, so you can’t explain how people are born of the Spirit.” John 3:8. Also mentioned Luke 8:23-25, when there’s the storm and the disciples are frightened. Jesus rebuked the storm and everything became calm, and he asked them, “where is your faith?”
She sees that all as a storm being all around me, but when my baby has gone to heaven Jesus says, “It’s okay, where is your faith? I am here, the storm is gone, your little one is with me.” She sees the calm drawing as representing peace being brought by the Holy Spirit, and my baby sleeping peacefull in Jesus’ arms on the sailboat.
That made me all tear up to re-type! And actually there was some other idea I had when I first read her email, but heck if I can remember what it was! I’m really digging my mom’s interpretation. 🙂
ETA again: The song Michael Row your Boat Ashore comes to mind about this now. 🙂