It Could Have Ended Here

It could have been the most memorable day of our lives.

Perhaps I would have woken in the middle of the night, much like they do in the movies, to the discomfort of ever-increasing contractions, perhaps my water having broken.

Maybe I would have shaken Dru to wake him, telling him anxiously, "I think it's time."

I'm sure he would have stumbled around nervously for the car keys, our overnight bags, maybe a quick bite of breakfast before loading my very pregnant self into the car.  We probably would have run red lights, sped consciously, woven through traffic.  He would have asked me constantly how I was feeling, rubbed my belly, told me how much he loved me.  That he couldn't wait to be a father.

I could have been settled in a spacious room surrounded by excited family, eager grandparents.  Staff might have asked repeatedly, "Is this your first?" followed by congratulatory sentiments and well wishes.

And then, when they would have told me it was time to push, butterflies would have sprung in my gut.

The moment I have been waiting for could have been within reach.

And when they would have told me that she was here--a girl--I would have looked at Dru and wept with an overwhelming sense of joy.

She could have been here.

I could have seen her face.  I could have held her.  Touched her fingers.  Kissed her cheeks.

I like to think that maybe she had her daddy's blonde hair and big, sparkling eyes.

Sarah.  It could have fit her.  Maybe she would have looked like a Sarah.

My second pregnancy could have ended here.  In an overjoyed hospital room.  In a healthy newborn.  In a happy ending.

But it didn't.  It ended months ago in a cold hospital room.  In a lost dream.  In tears.

Saturday was my second due date, and we are mourning the fact that our sweet Sarah isn't with us.  Our memories of her will only ever be limited to a positive pregnancy test and a couple of doctor's visits.

Our arms feel extra empty this week.  But praise Jesus, His arms are extra full.

Sweet Sarah, we loved you from the moment we knew you were with us.

Oh, how we loved you.  How we love you still.

We miss you, but we trust that there will be a day...oh, that sweet day...when we can see your face.  Hold you.  Touch your fingers.  Kiss your cheeks.

Until then, we'll be waiting...

Love,
Mama and Daddy