It wasn't the only thing, but it was definitely my all time favorite. Even after saying that we weren't going to buy each other gifts, I got one of the sweetest things from my husband Christmas morning. It was a Willow Tree Figurine of a mother holding her newborn baby. Yes, I bawled... I cannot tell a lie. I've always wanted one of these figurines, and Josh gave me the best one EVER! I still can't look at it without letting a few tears fall.
How badly I want this image for myself here in a few months. Really, for Christmas... that's what I truly want. To be able to hold my sweet little baby. Feel his warm breath on my cheek. Touch his smooth skin, hold his tiny little hands, kiss his sweet lips. Maybe even be able to keep him for a few short months- not have to give him up right away. What more could anyone want than to be able to cherish their own little newborn babe - even if it is just for a little while? Is it so much to ask for? Maybe for me it is. Maybe I don't have the right to ask for such things. Maybe I should just be happy for what I have been given already. Be grateful for the time I've already had. Maybe.
These past few days - the last week or two actually... have been a struggle. I find myself trying, and failing miserably at keeping a positive attitude. All this pain I'm going through, and for what?! To only have to give this child up after suffering for so many months carrying him. It just doesn't seem fair. Why?! What purpose does it serve to constantly be in pain now, to only have that pain continue on far after I've given birth? Sure the pain will be different, but still... pain is pain.
The name of the figurine that Josh bought me is called The Guardian. Heartbreaking for me in so many ways. A guardian is supposed to protect. It's a mother's very nature to put her children first, to keep them from harm... keep them safe. I know it's nothing I've done, but I feel like I've failed this child inside me. What kind of protection have I provided him? What did I do wrong to cause this defect to come upon him? Did I eat the wrong thing? Push myself too hard somehow? Twist the wrong way? Miss a day of vitamins? What did I do?! Some guardian I've turned out to be.
Women have been put on the earth for bearing and rearing children. It's what our very genetic makeup is all about. Physically, emotionally we are born for motherhood. And lately, I feel as if I have failed at it. The very thing I feel I am meant to do, and I can't even do that right. Twice now I've screwed it up, and again I'll have a child taken from me because of it. Essentially I know that I am not being punished... I didn't do anything wrong. I know this, I do. But sometimes it's hard not to wonder. It's hard not to question... did I do something wrong? Am I being punished? It just seems like so much to ask from someone, to have to bury their child - let alone two. And it makes me feel so horrible to be crying about this when I have been blessed with so much more than some. It makes me feel selfish and ungrateful. I have three beautiful and healthy children already. There are women who have had to bury more than two with none at home, or aren't able to concieve at all and here I sit and wallow and cry about what I don't have. I should be grateful... happy because of what I do have. Lately, it's just been harder than normal to recognize, or even acknowledge. Does that make me a bad person? I feel like it does. It probably shouldn't, but that doesn't mean I don't feel it.