Today my husband and I's first baby may have been born. Or maybe she would have already been born, here just a few short days by now. Or maybe she would be running late like her mama always seems to be and we would still be waiting on her arrival. But today is the day that my midwives had pinpointed as Blueberry's estimated date of delivery. We lost her on January 30th of this year. We will never know when she would have been born...
When my husband and I found out that we were expecting Blueberry, we were not quite married yet. We knew we were going to get married at that time and had already started planning a September 24th wedding. I love fall. I dreamt of us having an outdoor fall wedding. But once we learned of her existence, we knew that a September wedding was no longer in the cards, so we started to plan for a May wedding. I started googling maternity wedding gowns online.
When we lost Blueberry, we decided to go ahead with the May wedding plans. Why wait until September? We planned an elegant, intimate ceremony back home surrounded by our close family and friends. We wanted our lost baby to be a part of it. And she was...
My bouquet was adorned with two tiny silver angel wings. Blueberry walked with me down the aisle with her grandfather holding my hand and her daddy waiting for me at the altar. During the rose ceremony, my husband and I placed a single white rose in the vase to memorialize our baby. She was there. With us.
My husband and I were blessed to conceive Bean the week of our wedding. Ironically, we are having the quintessential honeymoon baby. We were fortunate that conceiving our sweet Bean came quickly, but only after months of healing, blood tests, a saline sonogram, and minor surgery.
Today is Blueberry's due date, but it also the day that I am 18 weeks pregnant with Bean. Bittersweet. I miss our lost baby dearly. But I know that she is well looked after and loved in heaven. I love my Bean. She is growing. My belly is swelling. In a couple of weeks we will find out for sure if Bean really is in fact a "she". I am blessed and grateful. I have been able to experience the power of a mother's love four times so far in my lifetime.
The due date of my husband & I's first baby, Blueberry is quickly approaching. And I am struggling... Struggling with how to remember our baby that day. I feel like I should, we should do something. But none of the usual ways of remembering a lost baby feels right to me.
I have heard & seen people talk about releasing a balloon. I get the idea that the balloon will reach our baby who is above in heaven. But all I can picture is that balloon becoming deflated & sinking to a small pond where a fish decides to swallow it and then dies from ingesting it. Or it is snatched in mid flight by a bird who also decides that swallowing latex is a good idea and then proceeds to suffocate to death. All bad visions for me... and not how I want to honor my Blueberry. And I am not chastising any mother or father who has done this to remember their baby... These are just the thoughts that race into my mind when I think of releasing a balloon.
Many parents decide to plant a tree or a flowering bush or a garden in honor of their lost pregnancy. I understand that creating life through plants is a way of having a living reminder of your child. That somehow through this tree or garden a piece of the baby they lost is still there with them. But I have a deep fear that the tree or plant will die and then what does that mean? I will get to feel immense guilt and grief all over again?
I plan to make a donation to an organization that supports parents of pregnancy loss in honor of our baby. But that doesn't seem personal enough. I know it is greatly helpful and appreciated, but I need to do something that is deeply meaningful to me, to my husband, & to the baby we will never get to meet in this life.
So, what do I do? I can't figure out that one thing. That truly meaningful heartfelt thing that I need to do next week to remember the day when my baby should have been entering this world, and taking her first breath, her first cry out in this world... And it is breaking my heart. Shouldn't I know what to do? I am her mother. I should know what to do, right?
In a parallel universe somewhere, there is a me that is almost 16 weeks pregnant now. Little Blueberry is still growing strong inside of her. She has made it past the Bermuda Triangle that is known to most as the first trimester. She has already heard the heartbeat, probably seen Blueberry doing mini acrobatics on the shadowy screen of the ultrasound. The belly swell cannot be hidden anymore, and she and the fiance have already told all of their family and friends.
In a few weeks, they may find out if Blueberry is a boy or a girl. The alternate universe me is seriously considering names now. She has actually bought some baby items, and is starting to find maternity clothing to get her through the summer months. They are probably researching doulas in the area, and starting to narrow down a few that they would like to interview...
Yesterday was 8 weeks to the day that I lost my Blueberry...
I had made it through most of yesterday without even giving a thought to what had happened to me, to Blueberry just 2 months before.
And then on the drive home from spending the day in the city, it hit me. Out of nowhere. I should be 16 weeks pregnant right now. And I am not.
