August 24th

August 24th, 2012. It was a Friday. I woke up extra early to make it to my 6:30 a.m. Bible study on time. I felt funny. I should have started my … you know … by then. I grabbed one of those fortune-telling-pee-sticks on my way in to the bathroom. I did my thing. I held it up to my sleepy eyes. Wait….what?
Plus sign. Right away. Two lines. Positive. Pregnant.
I went back in to the bedroom and woke Brent up. “Honey?” I said, as sweetly as I could for waking him up so early.
“Mmpfh?”
“I’m pregnant.”
(suddenly sounding more awake) “No you’re not. Are you serious?”
“Serious. The second line came up immediately. We’re gonna have another baby!”
“Can we pray, please?”
(melt my heart) “Yes.”
So he prayed. There on the spot. For our baby. For our family. For how our lives were going to change with the addition another pair of little feet. Oh how our lives were changed…
These last seven days have been especially emotional for me. I never know to what extent I’ll be affected by little milestones. New experiences. Dates. August 24th is just around the corner and this morning I was reminded that it was one year ago, one very distant-seeming year ago, I found out I was pregnant. I remember Brent’s prayer. I remember my excitement. I remember planning how we were going to tell Haley she was going to be a big sister. I remember trying to think of creative ways to reveal the news to the world. Because obviously, the world would be excited with us.
And one year later, we’re without our precious baby girl. One year later, my world is fragile, broken, and daunting. One year later, I find myself wondering how to function. How to breathe. How to parent my child beyond her grave.
It’s been a long year.
There’s a second part to the story of August 24th. That Friday afternoon, as I contained my excitement for our news, I sat with a friend who was miscarrying her first child. It was emotional. It was heartbreaking. It was so unfair. That child deserved to live as much as mine did. I found myself asking why. I found the questions came far easier than the answers. And I did all I knew how to do at the time – I sat and listened. I prayed. Then I left.
When I delivered Harlynn straight in to Heaven, that same friend was our first hospital visitor. She brought flowers. And agony. And empathy. And we sat and questioned. It was emotional. It was heartbreaking. It was so unfair.
I won’t be holding a positive pregnancy test this August 24th. I’ll be holding a family picture instead, longing for the one who’s missing. Haley’s little sister. Our little “Cletus The Fetus”. Our Harlynn.

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One Reply to “August 24th”

  1. Harlynn is in heaven. But my heart aches too. Every day, for the loss of Harlynn and for you. I check your blog often because you write superbly and it helps me. The whys I believe are because we live in a fallen world. I don't like these losses, not one bit. I can't imagine losing a child, only a grandchild and not being able to fix my daughter's broken heart.

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