Rosh Hoshannah with Sprout

In services last night and today, standing next to Ruth, surrounded in song and chanting, I remembered that Sprout can hear, and that these are some of the sounds - community voices chanting and singing, that this child is hearing already - and I was both touched and pleased. I caught mysef imagining next High Holy Days - looking at babies present this year and wondering if Sprout will be bigger or smaller, will sleep through services or need to be walked - such wonderful happy things to be able to wonder.

Alive and kicking

at twenty one weeks - a cliche I like. Rut and Chris both have felt SProut's movement now - a very good thing!

Thankful (even though Ruth is frustrated)

Today at work I learned of a couple who have just learned, at 20 weeks, that their baby has anencephaly and cannot live. Ruth had an extra ultrasound today which failed to determine Sprout Lilliam's sex. It did confirm the normalcy of Sprout's development. Ruth is really frustrated about the unknown sex, and frustrated with herself for caring. She just wants to be able to call her son or daughter by name already. I think I might be frustrated too if I hadn't learned today of the other family, with a baby just Sprout's age, who is facing sure death. I keep writing here over and over, life is so uncertain. And tonight I'm more thankful than frustrated.

Twenty weeks (such a nice round ring to it!)

Half way to due date with Sprout - Ruth has been pregnant longer than she is likely to be pregnant with this baby. Wow! And Sprout is estimated to be about the length of a banana, may weigh as much as a pound, and can hear and is likely to cover her/his ears when alarmed by a sudden sound. I remember that with my babies, how they jumped and seem frightened when their was a loud noise in our environment. Bob and I are buying Sprout's stroller as a welcome gift and I am keeping my hands and eyes off little outfits until we have gender identification (at the parents' request because they have enough tiny gender neutral outfits already) I still get scared, still remember Mira with tears, still know how much could go wrong with this baby - but most days I have nurturing cuddly hopeful thoughts - new baby in my arms come winter thoughts. Sweet sweet thoughts!

A change ( toward hope with tears)

When Mira died I set up my AOL icons with dragonflies, the symbol Ruth and Chris chose for that sweet baby. Today, as we pass the time that she would have been born into our arms, I am changing those icons to sunflowers for Sprout. And I'm hanging a silver, amber and garnt dragon fly for Mira permanently in my kitchen, where her memory will be triggered many times a day as I go about my business. We humans (at least this human) sure depend on symbols and rituals to get through the tough emotional stuff.

I know Ruth and Chris spent this night quiety together mourning their daughter and I feel so sad for them. I hate it when the people I love hurt. And I know they also have rejoicing and hoping in them. Love really is stronger than loss. And loss hurts like hell.

Mira - on the day you shoud be born

I wonder what tonight would be like if you had lived, little one. You might be here already, safe in your parents' arms. I might know your hair color and the taste of your neck. Or we might still be waiting to meet you. But we will never know. I'm sad tonight that we will never know.

Gift

Ruth and Chris brought beautiful grandparent journals to Bob and me today - like them not standard cutesy, but really deep and full of meaningful questions. I am touched and eager to start weoking on my journal for Sprout - Lilliam