My first due date is coming up next month. I don't feel ready yet. I was planning on bringing my newborn to the Christmas Eve service. Now, everywhere I look people are gearing up for Christmas. Thanksgiving is next week. We will put up our tree and decorations like we do every year. We will put our jammies on, listen to Christmas and make snickerdoodles and hot apple cider, but this year I know it will be bitter sweet. I would put it off a few months if I could.
We are celebrating the birth of a baby. This one happens to be my Savior, but nevertheless we will sing songs about Mary rocking her baby and singing Him lullabies. I know that Christmas is God coming in the flesh so He could die to take away my sins and reunite me with my babies. Even this fails to comfort me now. Early thoughts of my little one were tied together with Christmas. I imagined him or her born sometime between Thanksgiving and Christmas. I imagined myself waddling around on Thanksgiving wondering when the big day would come. By this time of year we would know the gender and have a name picked out. I dreaded this time soon after the miscarriage. When I found out I was pregnant again, I thought it would be much easier to go through this due date with another one to look forward too.
I don't feel like writing anything pretty or spiritual today. I am wishing things were different. I wish there were something I could do to change reality. I wish I could wake up and find out it was all a nightmare. I'll just leave it at that today. I will be fine, but I could use your prayers. It's hard to see the big picture because my grief is so great. I will trust my God because He is faithful even when I am faithless.
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