Mended

OK, so here it is. I am pregnant again, like 20 weeks pregnant. Some of you knew that already, but most of you did not. When Adam and I found out, on Libby's 2nd birthday, that I was pregnant again we were shocked. I had just suffered a miscarriage in January, and we had been using protection. After confirming the news, I was immediately flooded with all kinds of emotions and questions.

I was scared. What if I made it almost to the end of my pregnancy, only to lose my little baby again? Could Adam and I handle one more little mouth to feed and bottom to diaper in the midst of the chaos that we call life and grieivng for our Little Boy Lost?

I was confused. What was God trying to tell me? Why had he taken Boe away only to send me this little bean? What was my lesson to learn? Have I not been working diligently to learn it as best I can for the last year now?

I was ambivalent. I actually convinced myself that there would be no heartbeat for the first ultrasound or doctor exam. I figured if I went if "knowing" that, it wouldn't hurt so badly when they confirmed what I already "knew" to be true.

Now, at just past 20 weeks, I am hopeful. Hopeful that this little boy's birth will be a step towards something wonderful, good and full. We shall never be able to put back perfectly the pieces of our hearts that were strewn about when Boe passed, but I do believe that our little Rafe will help us to see that even in the darkest of places there will always be light.It is up to us to find the light and run toward it, embrace it and allow it to soothe what pains us.

Margaret Mitchell's iconic Rhett Butler said it best: "...I was never one to patiently pick up broken fragments and place them together and tell myself that the mended whole was as good as new. What is broken is broken - and I'd rather remember it as it was at its best than mend it and see the broken places as long as I lived."

The pain of losing Boe will always be with me, but I think I need to leave it as it is. If I carry that pain, he'll always be close. I know my arms and my heart are big enough to not only carry that pain, but to also make room for the light and joy. To make way for the sunshine that inevitably follows the rain.