Like my friend Kate has said before:  I broke all the blogging rules on this one-it’s long; it’s detailed; and it’s a heavy subject.  But it’s what was on my mind.  And I think a lot of people are wondering what I’ve been thinking-some have even been brave enough to ask me.  🙂  So, I hope maybe it gives you a glimpse of what’s going on in that silly ol’ head of mine, if you’re curious.  If not, scroll down a blog or two and see some really funny pictures!  🙂

Maybe I’m cold-hearted.  Maybe I have no soul.  Maybe I’m just crazy.  But I really am ok.  This whole miscarriage experience has not been fun.  But it’s not been terrible, either.  I feel like people are waiting for me to crack, or for it to “hit me”.  It has.  I assure you-it has hit me.  Sitting in that ultra-sound room, desperately watching for a heartbeat; knowing that it wasn’t there; that it wasn’t going to be there; that I had seen it a few weeks before and then it was gone-just gone.  It hit me.  It hit hard.  It hurt.  I cried.  It sucked.  I cried some more.  That night, after the D&C, I cried.  I cried the next day.  And the day after that.  And there are still moments when tears come to my eyes.  But most of the time, they aren’t tears of sorrow.  They are tears of joy because if this experience has taught me nothing else, it’s that I should appreciate my kids more than I do.  And, if I do say so myself, my kids are cute and pretty funny!  And there are lots of times when I’m overwhelmed with how much joy they bring into my daily life.  But…I also think that as a stay-at-home mom(well, we’re not technically at home very often, but you get the point), I am with my kids a lot.  A lot.  Nearly 24 hours every day.  Day in, day out.  No matter what.  Don’t get me wrong.  I love my kids.  But somedays, espcially those days that I don’t keep Ella or the girls AND when Marshall is having to work all night, I want to scream.  I love them, but they drive me crazy!  I lose my cool with them.  I yell.  I get on to them about things that I normally don’t care about.  But I’m finding that I haven’t done that as much lately.  I don’t know if it’s that I really am trying harder, or I’m just getting more experienced as a mom, or if they’re behaving more(I wouldn’t bank on that one! 🙂 )  But whatever it is, I’m glad about it. 

But another thing that I’m glad about is that there are still moments of sadness.  See, I love being pregnant.  LOVE it!  From the very beginning all the way to the end.  If I could have 10 babies, I would do it!  And I miss being pregnant.  But…I know there will be more times; at least I hope there will be.  And when I do get pregnant again and I’m tired and hungry and nauseous, I hope I’ll look back and say to myself, “Remember when you wanted that and missed that??”  And I hope that it will help me savor the little moments of my next pregnancy(or pregnancies), and the little moments in my life now! 

One more thing that I’m glad about is that I am still surrounded by friends who are pregnant.  I know for some people, they don’t want to see anybody else who has what they lost.  But, for me, it’s just not like that for whatever reason.  I have 3 friends who are all due about the time I was.  All first pregnancies.  Two of them had a long, hard road trying to get pregnant.  And I can’t help but sometimes compare where they are with where I would be, and sometimes that’s a little sad, but it also makes me get really excited for them.  I’ve felt a baby move inside me before.  I’ve laid in bed and watched the remote bounce up and down on my tummy as a little baby danced inside.  None of them have gotten far enough a long to actually feel any movement, but I can’t wait for that for them!  That is probably one of my favorite feelings in the world-tiny movements shared between Mama and baby.  Special, secret moments that you and your baby silently share.  And then, as the baby grows, bigger and more obvious movements that the outside world can see.  I know that neither of my close-to-Augusta pregnant friends are very touchy-feely people, but I do hope that I can at least feel one good kick.  It’s just so exicting to me!  But it is, if I’m honest with myself, bittersweet to think about.  And it will probably be bittersweet when I feel it.  And I’m sure that on May 31st, the day that I was going to be induced(if Eli hadn’t joined us already), I will be sad.  I will cry.  And it will hurt again.  Just like with the death of my Mama Jo(my grandmother), I don’t think this is something I’ll ever “get over”.  There are still times when my throat gets tight, and I tear up when I think of her.  I still miss her terribly.  And I don’t know if that is something that will ever go away.  And I’m sure this miscarriage will be like that, too.  But, even though I am sometimes sad that I don’t have my Mama Jo anymore, I still have lots of moments when I smile because I have so many memories of laughter and fun, of sweet moments that we spent together, of special things she could do that always made me smile(like barking…seriously, that was really funny-even if I did roll my eyes as a teenager!)  And I don’t have memories like that of baby Eli and I never actually met him, but I have his spirit with-in me.  I know it sounds corny, and it’s ok if you roll your eyes.  I probably would if I were reading this.  But, just like before the miscarriage, I can close my eyes and imagine what he looks like.  And I can imagine his smell.  And I can dream about what he would be like.  And I can always think of him as someone special, someone unique to me.  Someone that touched my heart like no other.  And that’s probably something that only a mother can understand, and I can’t wait for my friends Betsy and Angela and Jill to be able to see what I’m talking about.  I can’t wait to see them holding their little babies, and actually visualizing a dream come true.  I might not be able to do that, but I will always have the picture of “my little drummer” boy from that first ultra-sound.  The one with the strong, steady heartbeat back in October.  And I will be able to take to heart the bible verse(Jeremiah 1:5) that is written on the frame that is home to the only picture of Eli: “Before I made you in your mother’s womb, I chose you.”  God made him.  God chose him.  And God loves him, just like he does all of us.  And, in the end, that’s what really matters.  Jesus loves me, this I know.  For the bible tells me so.  Little ones to him belong.  They are weak, but he is strong.  Yes, Jesus loves me.  Yes, Jesus loves me.  Yes, Jesus loves me…