At this time last year, we were enjoying an uncommonly warm and un-snowy autumn, I had just begun counting gratitudes, my parents were visiting, and the Best Husband Ever and I were looking forward to meeting our first child in two months' time.
Only we didn't have two months left. We had a week. Seven days before we would receive the worst news parents can get.
It doesn't seem possible that this horrifying thing was headed our way and we didn't know it. It seems that something so huge and life-altering should come with ample warning signs.
But it didn't. She was gone before we knew that miscarriage isn't the only sad way a pregnancy can end.
Sometimes I don't know how we're supposed to live now that we know that the worst could strike in an instant, without warning, and even without cause. It's overwhelming, sometimes, that new knowing.
And yet there's good in that horrible knowing, too, because it makes me able to see the wonder around me more clearly, to see the blessings while they're still here. Before I was always looking to the future, eager to move ahead, blind to the beauty of the moment. Now I can see it, and I'm grateful for that.
I'm trying to trust God to help me with the rest of that new knowing that isn't so easy to live with. This is a work in progress.
I can't believe it's already been nearly a year since I held her.
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Book update: Forty-six books have now made their way to me in celebration of Eve's first birthday. Amazing! Thank you, thank you, thank you!!