See you someday...

I wrote this blog almost a week ago now. It is the first time I didn't just write and post, but had to come back to it later... Sometimes it's good to just shoot straight from the hip and let it go. Sometimes it's better to just make sure.


There are all kinds of ways to explore feelings. This has become one of mine. So.... warning warning warning... this may be a post to steer clear of, especially if you are melanie...

It's been an eventful week and I haven't written anything because there were already enough emotions around and I couldn't hug mellie and I didnt want to add to anyone's pain. But now, well, I hope that if wounds are still raw, you will wait and come back after there's been a little healing and toughening.

When Mel told me that she was spotting and then that the baby had no heartbeat, I felt a series of things. Fear first and for a couple days until Monday when she had the first ultrasound. I knew then, I guess we all did, but I can't imagine any way other than waiting and making sure in a couple days. But how difficult those days had to have been for mel because i know how difficult they were for me. Funny how you don't lose the desire...the need to protect your baby..even when your baby is an adult woman trying to protect her baby. I felt it just like I did when she would cry because her friends said they didnt like her any more (the 3-friends-are-one-too-many syndrome). I would reassure her and tell her they were being silly and that they would be back looking for her to play in no time. I might tickle her face or just hug her. I knew that I couldn't make it better but I wanted to protect my baby against the injustices in the world...but I couldn't and it passed and life went on.

When Melanie was 1, she had a tumor on her foot just below and between her big toe and the next toe. The dr. said it would be no big deal to remove it, but that it should be removed because it could get bigger and cause her pain. So it was removed and she was fine. Four years later, it grew back and it hurt her. Again, the prescribed treatment was surgery and I was ok, knowing it had been no big deal the first time. Then, the day before the surgery, her surgeon called me and very bluntly told me that it might not be so easy this time. He said there was at least an even chance that it would be malignant and that we should prepare for that possibility. And even if it was not malignant, the surgery would be difficult because the tumor seemed to have grown between and around the bones in her foot. I was scared. More than scared tho, I remember thinking that I would gladly take a tumor the size of an automobile if I could protect her from the next few days, and maybe more than just a few. I remember the feeling being fierce..I would do anything to protect her. If I could. But I couldn't. The only thing I could do was pray and even in those days of not being really sure who I was praying to, even then I could pray.

So now we move on to last week. That feeling again.. fierce and protective... But this time it was on two fronts. Melanie. How I wanted to protect her and how I marveled at the strength she showed (even when i knew that my daughter's feelings run deep and she was not feeling nearly as strong as she acted). And the baby. I don't know how anyone can have experienced this sort of a loss and not believe..not KNOW that this was not a 'fetus' or the totally clinical 'product of conception'. This was a baby. A real human being with all the potential in life that I have or Mellie has ...or for that matter, that Cam or Kaela have. I just kept thinking how I was going to miss this little one. And how very glad I am knowing that this little baby is hanging out with Gram and Grampie in a heaven of perfect love and sunshine. I miss you little angel. Keep an eye out for all of us..we'll get to meet you someday.

In our small town

We live in a small town. Norman Rockwell must have been here. There is a lake in the middle of town with a gazebo on the opposite side. At Christmas time, candles are lit in containers around the shoreline and the Christmas tree floats in the middle of the lake. Santa even rows across the lake for the annual beginning of the Christmas season.




We care about each other in this small town. Even as relative newcomers, we share in the sense of small town-ness.


This morning we heard some heartbreaking news about some friends (in any other town, they would be acquaintances, but, as I said, this small town has this sense...). They have suffered a devastating loss, the death of their unborn child. As he told me, my heart ached. I saw his heart in his eyes and it was aching too. All I could think was "God's purpose". How can we know His purpose in things like this. We can't. More than once, in difficult times, I've been given a peace that the situation didn't warrant. I'm grateful that these friends know that His love is boundless and that His purpose is always perfect too, because without that love and assurance to rest on, how could you bear the pain?