October 15, A Remembrance

I love it when different parts of my life align themselves like teacups on a shelf. I didn't put them there. They arranged themselves. Please forgive me if today's entry is too personal, but I can't pass up this chance to write about the significance of this date (October 15). First of all, it's my nephew Alex's birthday....so Happy B'day, Big Al! (And, I am not even sure he'll read this!)

But back to the personal significance of why I am writing about October 15. I am a mother. I have borne 6 children, all of whom are the most amazing people in my life. As they have grown to adulthood, they have become my closest friends. And, yes, I am blessed to have six, when so many women cannot have even one. But, along the way there have been losses. When I was in the early weeks of my sixth pregnancy, I was feeling a bit overwhelmed. My youngest was three at the time. I felt overwhelmed, but still over all hopeful that we would adjust. One morning after exercising, I experienced some light bleeding...in no time at all I was losing larger amounts of blood....in a panic I drove to the doctor office. (Note to self: next time call 911, I almost fainted in the car.) Without going into the details, I'll just tell you that I miscarried that day. I experienced a molar pregnancy, a rare condition where the placenta over multiplies and absorbs the fetal tissue. I had to be monitored for 6 months to make sure it didn't become cancerous. My heart was grieved like I have never experienced before. I felt like my heart had been ripped from my chest. It was a difficult time, and had it not been for my kids, and close friends I don't know how I would have recovered. I hugged my kids, wrote a poem, planted a yellow rose bush, journaled, cried and tried to move on. That was on May 5. The baby would have been due on October 15.

Fast forward 13 years. My older daughter sent me a fb invite for a day to remember babies who died before they had a chance to be born. The date? October 15.

And then, on my writing desk for work, I have an assignment to write a pregnancy article about pregnancy loss, specifically the type I experienced. The due date? October 15.

And today, October 15, I am marveling at the fact that I can tell you all of that, and sit here and write.....and I am not in a puddle of tears on the floor. I am ok now. In fact, today I am going with my sweet man to Lancaster, where he gets to meet my son, Matt and his fiance' Larissa. Instead of being at an ending, I am experiencing a beginning. A new chapter in my life has begun.

The poem I wrote in October of 1997 reflects the hope that someday I would move on. Here is a snippet of that verse:

The lonely tree stands tall against a stormy sky.

Empty branches reach like aching arms to the grey sky above.

Leaves drop like silent teardrops to the stony ground below.

The wind whispers lonely midnight lullabies.

But the roots reach with hope to nourishing waters below.

In the darkest night, it felt the slightest promise of spring, a tiny

bud of promise for tomorrow.

Today, it is tomorrow.

Me and Bethany in 2008.