damn birthday…

February 18, 2011

there was a day when I sweetly dreamed of sharing a birthday with my soon to be baby boy…  now as my birthday looms like the dark of night, I am crushed beneath the weight of what should have been.  it is heavy upon my chest to the point of making it physically hard to draw breath.  I stand in an emptying parking lot, with the last of the wintry winds blowing around me… through me… I try to take a long deep breath of the cold damp air.  it doesn’t work.  I want to be blown away, or at least have what is left of the sorrow that seems to ever seep from my broken heart be gone with the wind or frozen out of me.

I don’t know what happened.  I was fine when I woke up.  somewhere along my very average, absolutely typical day,  an ache crept in.  I think it is because my birthday is just a few days away.  when I was first pregnant with luke, I counted out the days and figured I would have a little one about the end of february, close to my birthday.   knowing that I would have a scheduled cesarean, I figured that I could maybe  have it worked out to deliver on my birthday.  or I imagined myself as pregnant as can be, absolutely full of child, going on a birthday date with my true love.  these thoughts seem to have been deeply cemented into my brain.  I sincerely felt I was doing well, but the impending date seems to have brought me low once again.  now that the weight has landed, it seems immovable.  once again I am at a heightened state of awareness of everything baby, everything boy, everything pregnancy.  from the little board books on display that will soon be filling the easter baskets of someone else’s little man, someone else’s fourth born to the perfect hand prints left behind on the restaurant door that look to me to belong to a little person of about 2.  two perfect handprints, side by side where that child stood and pushed the revolving door… two handprints that I wish were gracing the glass doors of my home.

getting into the van, I turn on the radio, hoping for an uplifting song to chase away the reality of pain that is squeezing the air right out of my lungs.  something to help me glaze over and think of anything else but that beautiful, tiny boy that I held but for a moment.  no relieve.  the song playing is ‘if you want me to’ by ginny owens… a song from luke’s funeral.  my eyes burn.  once again it feels as if God is mean.  why?  why!?  I seem to be ever haunted by this loss.  I try to tell myself to pull it together, it’s time to get over this, and then I argue with myself saying that that thinking is absolutely ridiculous!  my baby died!  I carried him for what seemed like an eternity knowing that I had lost him before he was even free of my body and yet not being able to let go of the thought that maybe this was my turn for a miracle.  that wound is deep. … … deep.  I don’t know that it will ever be gone.  I may notice the blue fuzzy jammies on the end cap for the rest of my life and always have that pang of loss and sorrow.

interestingly providentially, the verse I read this morning was:

You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your book? … This I know, God is for me. Psalm 56:8-9


I’m going to cling to that.  … He is for me … He knows all these tossings and tears … He knows more than I do and is more worried about my character, that ever needs refining, than my comfort, which will be but a mist anyway.  this wave of sorrow will pass, the healing will come, the space between the waves keeps getting longer.  I just need to get past this damn birthday.


3 Responses to “damn birthday…”

  1. amy garvin said

    Hugs, friend.

  2. Megan said

    What a great verse this morning! Keep repeating that, and hopefully it will help ease things over the next few days. More hugs from me.

  3. sarah shattuck said

    Jenifer,, that song business has happened to me before thinking of Ted… try to think of it as a sign from them that it is ok… they are thinking of us too.. they see our pain and dont want us to hurt so badly anymore…

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