It has been over a week since I have cried. Maybe even two. That makes me feel...guilty somehow. Like I am getting over losing her? But I know, deep down, I am not. I still think about her nearly ever hour. She is, and will always be, a vital part of my existence. I have three children.
Why am I crying less now? I am not sure, but it does feel like the pain is less raw, less violent each day that passes. Our God is truly a God of healing.
I have had a lot of opportunity recently to reflect on the amazing blessing of family and friends in my life. I do not know how I would get through this journey without them.
Soon I think I will be ready to share the entire medical journey that led up to our loss of Abbie. I have been reviewing text message chains from the month of November, with close friends who were walking with me on the journey, and praying for me and for Abbie each step of the way. I still struggle with feelings of incredible anger toward my body for not nurturing this life the way that it should have. I still wonder if we had done this differently, or that differently, would the outcome have been better? Would I be sitting her with her snuggled up against my neck, being a personal body heater the way newborn babies do, instead of having both hands free to type this blog post? I don't know, and I may never know, but I still struggle with those questions. I know, as a result, I will be overcautious, overprotective, and maybe even extreme in my next pregnancy. For those of you who know me in real life, I ask for your grace when that journey begins. I will be focusing on one job, and one job only, growing the baby and keeping it inside for as many weeks as possible. This means I will back away from most other activities for the duration of the pregnancy, and relax and rest as much as possible. I know many women who have gone on strict bedrest and have been able to achieve this goal.
I visited the Body Worlds exhibit yesterday with my husband, brother Luke, and my brother's girlfriend Ellie. I wasn't quite prepared for the emotion I would experience when we walked through the Conception To Birth part of the exhibit, which was very early on. They had genuine babies, at very stages of gestation (everything from 2 weeks all the way up to 28 weeks), who had passed away and were preserved through the incredible process of plastination. The babies at 22 and 24 weeks gestation affected me the most. It was like looking at Abbie all over again, although they were chubbier than she was, confirming again for us that she was truly growth restricted those last few weeks in my womb. Again increasing my anger at my body.
Over the next months, I will get prayer for my body. I only want one thing from it. The ability to bring another baby far enough along in a pregnancy so that the baby can survive on the outside, and we can complete our family. This will be my fervent prayer from now until I see that baby's face.
Always missing her,
Kristy
