The Elephant in the Room.

The remains of my dead baby are sitting on my husband's nightstand in a small white metal box. Nothing about that fact is fair. Our bedroom; the room where we watch a million movies and give a million snuggles and steal a million kisses and laugh a million minutes and beg for a million tickles and work out a million miscommunications and say a million prayers and sleep a million sleeps and dream a million dreams and wake up to a million perfect sunrises and share a million morning smiles is currently a temporary grave.

I contracted an infection in the placenta which caused me to go into premature labor and around 6:30 the morning of September 7th, our baby girl was born at home, into my hands, at 14 weeks. I couldn't stop it. I couldn't save her. And now I'm left with a broken heart and a small metal box on my husband's nightstand that holds a quarter size pile of ashes that make up her entire existence. She didn't have a name. She didn't even have a gender yet. Other than my obsession with meatballs and my swelling mid-section, I wasn't even aware of her until she was already leaving me behind. I felt her kick, one time, as the life left her body and her spirit was soaring toward heaven and into the arms of Jesus. I'm not sure if I'm thankful for that kick or not. What's supposed to be one of the most humbling and powerful feelings during pregnancy has left me hollow and haunted.

I keep thinking about what she might have been. If she would have been a sassy, bossy, know-it-all like me or sweet and patient, humble, kind and giving like her daddy. If she would have had cankles that would make a rhino jealous or if she would have run like the wind. If she would have grown up to save stamps, save her pennies or save lives. If she would have struggled with her words or if we wouldn't have been able to shut her up. The list of 'what if's' goes on and on, but it's pointless and depressing to consider all that might have been though. It's more important and beneficial to hold my thoughts captive to what is true which is that she IS the most absolute perfect version of herself that I could ever hope for her to be. My earthly dreams of the life she could have lived pales in comparison to the life she is now living. She will never strain against her true nature to love and be loved. She will never struggle with selfishness, self-esteem or saving herself until marriage. She will never succumb to peer pressure, depression or too much chocolate cake. She will never give in to abuse, bullies or self-hatred. She will never know fear, the consequences of sin or what separation from God feels like. She has gone from one warm, safe, wonderful place to another without hint of hesitation or regret. She is secure in her destiny and safe from Satan's schemey schemes and wily ways. She is free and always will be and THAT is very fair.

And for a rebellious heart like mine, one more good reason on a list of good reasons why I'll make sure I'm there one day too is not something to be scoffed at.

Goodnight baby girl. See you soon.....................................................but not too soon. xo