So Christmas somehow snuck up on me. I think I've been so preoccupied lately with preparing for family to come in to town, getting ready for our trip to Costa Rica, and worrying about the ultrasound this morning with baby #2. Well, the family is here, the trip is a few days away and there's not much to do right now, and the ultrasound went great this morning. Then tonight I went to the Christmas Eve service at my brother and sister-in-law's church, and it hit me. Ada is not here. It's Christmas, and Ada is missing.
I had already thought about Ada earlier today. When I went to the doctor, I made the mistake of opening her brag book that she keeps in the waiting room. Suddenly I was looking at lots of healthy newborn babies - and of course, Ada is one baby my doctor delivered who will never be in her brag book. That was a little too much for me. I was also annoyed by a new person in the office who, to make conversation while taking my blood pressure, asked, "So, is this your first baby?" That lady has a lot to learn about working in an OB office! (My answer, in case you're wondering, was that it's my second pregnancy.) I was sooooo relieved and happy to see the healthy baby and heartbeat on the ultrasound and I immediately got tears in my eyes - but they were happy tears.
So anyway, tonight as I was walking to my seat at church I saw several people oohing and aahing over a tiny little baby boy. I sat down, and the pastor mentioned that there would be a baptism during the service (that's infant baptism at this church). They started playing, "What Child is This," and I cried. All of the tears that I had been holding back just came out. All I could think about is that my baby is not here with me. I am so excited about this baby on the way, but it doesn't replace my baby girl. It's Christmas, and I miss her.
The day we found out that Ada had died, my sister-in-law gave me a book of poems about losing a child. I thought I should share this one tonight:
I had already thought about Ada earlier today. When I went to the doctor, I made the mistake of opening her brag book that she keeps in the waiting room. Suddenly I was looking at lots of healthy newborn babies - and of course, Ada is one baby my doctor delivered who will never be in her brag book. That was a little too much for me. I was also annoyed by a new person in the office who, to make conversation while taking my blood pressure, asked, "So, is this your first baby?" That lady has a lot to learn about working in an OB office! (My answer, in case you're wondering, was that it's my second pregnancy.) I was sooooo relieved and happy to see the healthy baby and heartbeat on the ultrasound and I immediately got tears in my eyes - but they were happy tears.
So anyway, tonight as I was walking to my seat at church I saw several people oohing and aahing over a tiny little baby boy. I sat down, and the pastor mentioned that there would be a baptism during the service (that's infant baptism at this church). They started playing, "What Child is This," and I cried. All of the tears that I had been holding back just came out. All I could think about is that my baby is not here with me. I am so excited about this baby on the way, but it doesn't replace my baby girl. It's Christmas, and I miss her.
The day we found out that Ada had died, my sister-in-law gave me a book of poems about losing a child. I thought I should share this one tonight:
It's Christmas
It's Christmas,
the baby in the manger,
joy to the world, and I am filled with fear.
It's Christmas,
the baby is in danger,
peace upon earth, my soul is filled with tears.
It's Christmas,
the baby is in the straw,
I see all tiny babies, my soul is filled with awe.
It's Christmas,
the baby in the manger,
joy to the world, and I am filled with fear.
It's Christmas,
the baby is in danger,
peace upon earth, my soul is filled with tears.
It's Christmas,
the baby is in the straw,
I see all tiny babies, my soul is filled with awe.
1 comment:
I'm sorry you don't have Ada with you. I knew I would be upset over these holidays but I didn't realize the pain would be from honestly missing Gregory. I miss the little boy who is supposed to be living. That must have been so tough during church. I'm sorry we can't escape the thoughts of what SHOULD have been, but I am so glad to hear your ultrasound went well. Hugs.
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