Okay, so I am just having a sad moment... I just finished blog hopping and entered one that made me have deja vu feelings... Hope you don't mind my sharing. I go through days in and days out being grateful for this family God has blessed me with. Sure, there are moments even my own mind echoes the doubts some others have expressed about my ability in raising 5 children. Sure, I often feel inadequate, but I rely on God's promise to "never give me more than I can handle" in His strength (1 Corinthians 10:13) and that He said He would "never leave or forsake" me. I have my challenges and struggles just like anyone else.
I think one of the hard and achy moments that I often have is concerning the fact that I have been pregnant 6 times, but I only have five of these chickadees to prove that. When I am asked about how many children I have, I hesitate to answer at first because... in my heart I have six, even though one is in heaven with Jesus. I have been told that I cannot count the one I did not officially give birth to, even though I held her little form in my hands and wept tears of disbelief and grief at the history I could never make with this child and could never show love to. How can I leave one out just to keep people from feeling uncomfortable?
Really, I'm okay with the miscarriage, but what hurts is not feeling free enough to include her in our public lives. I say "public" because my kids know of their sibling whom is in heaven, and they are excited over the possiblity of seeing her one day.
March 5th was the third anniversary of the day I miscarried. My baby would have been three. Oh, what she would have been like... personality, appearance, likes, dislikes, similarities and differences to her other siblings... so many things. I just wonder, that is all. I am content that she is with Jesus and other loved ones whom have gone on before, but I wonder. Regrets? Not exactly, more like ponderings of "could have been's". And even these can only make me more determined to have my family and me see Jesus, and to, one day, hold my baby in my arms.
I may not have officially birthed this dear one, but she is greatly loved, and I consider myself blessed to have carried her in my womb even for a short while.
P.S... For those of you wondering... we did not know the gender of our baby, but I seemed to feel that we lost our first girl. I came to refer to her as Bethany Hope, a.k.a Baby Hope. Giving her a name helped me to deal better with the miscarriage. It helped to make her a part of our family even in that simple way, since we could not know her in every day living.