Maybe someday down the road when I am chasing many children around and busy with the daily activities of life, it will just be a passing thought.
But not today. I knew this date was creeping up.
Two years later it still stings, still makes my heart ache, still makes me cry quietly to myself.
March 8, 2010 was a rainy day just like today.
For four weeks I had counted down the minutes until we got to see the heartbeat of our little baby. Time drug on so slowly. I had felt the nausea, exhaustion, headaches, and the 5 lbs of weight gain that come with the first trimester of pregnancy.
Zac and I had taken the day off from work. We were going to celebrate after our appointment. Go to lunch, Babies R Us, plan how we were going to tell our families, have one of those joyous days that truly make life grand.
I remember studying the ultrasound technician's face as she gave me my 8 week ultrasound. We made small talk but nothing else was said as she looked at the screen and measured and clicked, measured and clicked. I waited for her to say "and here's the heartbeat".... nothing. (Later I found out that legally the technician can not give you "bad" news.)
I had this terrible feeling as they called us back right away to see the doctor. They didn't have me put on a gown, didn't weigh me, none of the things I had read to expect during your first baby appointment.
Everything after that is kind of a blur. I remember the way my heart broke into a million pieces when the dr said, "from the measurements, your baby's heart stopped beating around 7 days ago."
I was so angry at my body. How did I not know what was going on inside of me? How did my body not tell me that something wasn't right? I had just rubbed my belly and prayed over that baby the night before, not knowing that that poor little baby had already lost its life.
Even though I was only 8 weeks pregnant, I had dreamed and prayed for a whole lifetime for that baby. Birthdays, dance recitals, graduations...
The doctor told me how common it was. Statistics mean nothing when your heart is breaking.
Now instead of getting to share the good news with our families, we had to call to let them know that I was headed over to the hospital to do pre-op blood work for my D&C I would be having the next day.
I sat in the waiting room at the hospital, my husbands arms around me, and sobbed for the life that would never be.
God taught me so many lessons through all of this. He gave me a heart for other women that go through the same experience. The sad thing is 1/3 of us will experience the loss of a pregnancy in some way or another. I can't even imagine the pain of losing a baby at 12 weeks, 20 weeks, stillborn, or the unimaginable devistation of losing a child from this Earth.
I couldn't believe the women that came out of the wood work to console me and tell me that they had been through the same thing. It was like an unknown secret society that I had suddenly become a member of. Why was something so common so unspoken about?
But now, two years later, how can I be sad? I look at this face and I rejoice that my God had Bella in his arms just waiting to give her to us.
That we had to experience a trial to grow and mature, to be ready for the huge blessing of our baby girl. The so "full of life" little girl that is Bella Lassiter. HE has impeccable timing.
For I know the plans I have for you" declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans for a hope and a future. - Jeremiah 29:11
So today I am rejoicing for the heartache that lead to happiness.
And the fact that I get to love on this little girl
for the rest of the day.