Avalon in September 08, when Willow was 12 weeks.
As I reminisce tonight, I remembered a funny story to share.
It was during those early pregnancy weeks with Willow, where you're not meant to share the news of their presence just yet, for the knowledge that many lives are lost before the 12 week mark hits. And it's just as I approach that mark that the hormones that make me want to chuck, settle. The placenta starts to do it's job and I start to lose the feeling that I've been poisoned by a bad chinese meal. (No racism intended.)
It was early in the morning, and I had just gotten Avalon out of bed. She was at the adorable stage of crawling around and happily pulling herself up on things (adult legs included).
Craig lay in bed as Avy rampaged around our room. As only a refreshed 12-hours-of-continuous sleep-kid can do with flair at 7am.
So here we were, playing in the bedroom when the urge overcame me. I jumped up and headed for the ensuite sink. As I held onto the sink and did the early pregnancy "thang", Avalon crawled over and mistook my throwing up sounds for laughter. She climbed up my legs as I heaved and she chuckled heartily, trying to outdo me. I couldn't help but laugh through my chucking tears (yes, I involuntarily cry as I chuck. I'm one of "those" people. Don't judge me.)
It was a daunting moment. I realised then that it wasn't just Craig and I who would sacrifice for this baby. Avalon would have to sacrifice, too. She will have to learn to share. Learn to share of her Mum's attention.
And it was this that I thought as I stood paralysed to the sink, unable to check whether Ava would fall without my assistance. Unable to look after her "properly" because of this new life that was making itself known in our family already.
And I think back on this funny moment in my life and see that moment as the moment where Willow officially "arrived" in our house. Not the birth. But before her fingernails or ears were even fully formed.
I think of my church friends tonight, who are grieving over the loss of their baby who never arrived out of his Mummy's tummy alive. And I see that their loss is great, and their hearts must be heavy. I feel for them deeply and continue to pray that God will help them through.
And I also think of some other of my friends, who welcomed their little girl into the world this morning. My prayers are with them as well, as they pour out their lives for this newborn life.
It's never been more present in my mind that it is God who is continually sustaining all of our lives to hopefully see tomorrow.
1 comment:
Beautiful, Nicole. I know this has been a tough post for you. I think it would be comforting for your friends to hold onto the memories of the new little life that made its presence known before the birth, to remember those moments as you do with Willow. For that was the baby's life, short though it was. There was joy to be found in the movements, the kicking, the hiccuping and all the life that baby had in-utero. It is so unfortunate that your friends did not get to parent that baby for very long, and not at all outside of the womb, but it is the parenting job they did while ever they had that child that made the difference. That's what's important. And I'm betting they loved that baby as best as they were able while he had life. Now they have a little soul waiting for them in heaven. :)
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