Today is my due date.
Or perhaps I should say -- today was my due date.
It seems strange, and even offensive, that I made it to this date and my baby did not.
My daughter is dead. Today, she has been dead for two months exactly.
Today is hard.
I expected it to be harder. I expected to be lost in despair. I expected to die from grief. How can a mother arrive at the date her expectancy was supposed to blossom into fullness and not die?
But I am not dead. And today, this day of emptied expectancy, has been far sweeter than I could have dreamed.
This morning the world was beautiful. The clouds, the snow, the sun -- beauty all around.
The beauty was in people, too. When my car got stuck in snow, strangers materialized out of nowhere to help -- twice.
I went to get blood drawn, and the man who did so remembered me, remembered that I used to have a baby. He was kind to me.
Friends and the other babylost remembered what today used to be. They did not leave me alone in the remembering.
Sweet sister-friends called me, wrote to me, listened to me at length, and lifted me up. They helped me to remember that God knows the pain of this day, and the days previous, and the days to come. That He cares.
Today I saw babies and pregnant women during my travels, and did not hate them. This gives me hope that there is beauty yet bloom in my heart as I heal.
At the store, I found a lilac-scented candle that whispered of Eve to me. I bought it, and the burning of it is comforting me as I write this. The lilac smell is all around me and will forever belong to her now.
There was so much good today, so much sweetness on a day I expected to taste only bitter.
I am blessed. God has not forgotten me. He is carrying me, tending me like the gentlest farmer with the most tender shoot. I have given myself to Him, and He has not failed.
So today, the day that was my due date, I will remember the good that He has given. I would never give up this pain because that would mean giving up the good that came before it.
My daughter, you have been worth every tear.