I was going through my old MySpace blog looking for a picture of the older two girls with purple hair and I came across this:
We went to church this morning and I was sitting there holding Marie and thinking about how the church had supported me when I had my miscarriage, and how amazing it was to be sitting there with my rainbow baby (which she is in more ways than one).
I read an article years ago in Mothering magazine--and I may well have mentioned this here before--where a woman shared her beliefs as far as this goes...She said she believes when you have a miscarriage or other loss, that baby's soul stays nearby you, and it will come to Earth with the next baby. I have always found that comforting, and there is an emotional truth to it, I think.
When I was pregnant with Marie-Honor, Erik suggested her middle name should be Evangeline, which I'd intended to use for the baby I lost. Of course, it was a brilliant idea, as most of his are, and we went along with it.
I am happy. Happy to have Miss Marie. Happy to have Erik. But still, I saw that old ticker, and it was like a punch to the gut. Because I had to do the math, and then a few minutes ago I had to count, and even though I am long past remembering the due date for that baby, I do remember s/he was due in April. We'd be planning a third birthday right about now.
I do not, for the record, dwell on this. Or even think of it very often. But sometimes something jumps out at you and starts a line of thought you'd rather avoid.
I thank God for Marie-Honor. Every single day.