The Weight of a Date

November 11, 2011.

This date has been hanging over my head like a bad omen for seven months. Everyday since my first miscarriage, 11/11/11 has seemed to be just days away. Sitting there just around the corner, poised like a wild cat waiting to take me out. I have lived for months in the anxiety of this "due date". I did not get out of bed yesterday in anticipation of its finality.

I was supposed to have a baby today.

Instead, I went to my doctor's office for an ultrasound to confirm the completion of my second miscarriage. I will find out by Monday if I need to have a D&C or if nature took its own course in its own time.

I long for the children I have lost on this day and everyday. I am glad this day has come and gone so I could have an obvious excuse for making the grief of our losses the center of my attention, but I cannot continue to live in this space.

I wholeheartedly wish the outcome was different and I was holding a warm and precious bundle in my arms tonight. I wish it was the tiny cries of a newborn keeping me awake tonight and not the screams of their absence. I cannot change what is. I can only appreciate the tiny blonde ball of energy who has chosen tonight to wage the battle of determination to wear her Halloween cow costume as pajamas. My soul aches with appreciation of the gift we received in Eva. I can only feel luck in the support I have from my husband, who hurts to see me hurt even as he hurts himself. Tonight, our home is warm with the love shared between the Shire Three.