Ten months have passed since our son Finn was born silently into this world. Today would have been his first Thanksgiving outside the womb. I have to admit it’s hard not to focus on what I have lost and continue to lose as each milestone and holiday passes. My arms are still empty and longing, but I also think about what we have gained by having our son the short time we did, because to have had him for that short time is better than never at all. Today I opened the refrigerator to find the chocolate cashew milk has Finn’s birth date on it. I smiled at that, because judging by the way I craved chocolate when I carried Finn, I’m sure he would love chocolate milk as much as his brother (who requested the purchase of said milk). I’m thankful for those memories I do have, and I’m thankful that because of the loving sacrifice of Jesus, the excruciating goodbye we said to our baby was really a “see you later”. I’m thankful that death couldn’t tear him away permanently, and that I will be with him again in heaven. I’m thankful for a loving husband who has stuck with me and loved me through circumstances that would have torn some relationships apart. I’m thankful Jaxton is healthy and that I am able to watch him grow and develop. I cherish the ability to physically hug him and hear his voice every single day. I know all too well that’s not an opportunity every person gets. I’m thankful for family and friends who have surrounded us with love, prayer, and support during a time when some people would be tempted to distance themselves from our grief or pretend nothing happened. Finally, I’m thankful for all the comforts we enjoy. Many are not as fortunate. We were able to enjoy a relaxing day at home with a delicious Thanksgiving meal and decorating for Christmas. I wish you all a blessed Thanksgiving as well!
Nine months ago today, Finn was born. Babies have been created and born in the span of time he has been gone. Tonight Jaxton put a toy stethoscope against my belly and said he was going to listen to baby Finn’s heartbeat. He always enjoyed listening to Finn’s heartbeat and feeling him kick. I told him Finn isn’t in my tummy anymore, but he said we can pretend he is still there. Last year Finn really was in my belly dressed up as baby skeleton for Halloween. How I wish he was still with me moving and growing!
Several times now I’ve had people tell me I will have another baby. I know they mean well, but it’s not comforting for a few reasons, the main ones being a new baby can’t replace Finn, and nobody can actually know with absolute certainty if we will be able to have another baby. We are certainly hopeful, and we are trying, but there are no guarantees when dealing with infertility. Both of our sons were what most people would call “planned”, but each was an unexpected surprise after numerous months of disappointment. It’s easier for me to accept the reality that there might not be a rainbow baby and be surprised if there is, than live with the false hope that I am guaranteed another baby just because I want one. It would be great if it worked that way, but this is life and it isn’t fair.
If we do have another pregnancy, the odds are in our favor that it would a healthy uneventful pregnancy, but I’ve lost any remaining naivety regarding pregnancy. I know there is no “safe zone” in pregnancy when I will be guaranteed to take home a healthy, live baby. I know the numerous things that could go wrong at any given point. Fear and anxiety will be constant. So if you want to encourage me, tell me you hope I will have a sibling for Jaxton and Finn, and please pray that it will happen for us. I don’t mind if you ask how I’m doing or how the journey is going if you want to know, I’m usually an open book, but please don’t word it with expectation, like “are you pregnant yet?”.
Thank you all for the support and prayer you’ve given us this year. Through these struggles we have seldom felt alone and we are grateful for every one of you. ♡
Whenever I walk by the clothing section, I usually notice the baby clothes. It doesn’t really bother me, I expect them to be there and I still admire the cuteness. Yesterday though, this little brother outfit was hanging out in front, and sure enough it was size 6-9 months. I can’t not notice it and pretend it has no connection to my life, to my son who should be almost 9 months old. So I stop, took in the size of the shirt and pants, and tried to imagine what Finn might look like now wearing it. I don’t know if the overall feeling is sad in this case, but more so full of wonder about what might have been, that which can now only exist in the realm of my imagination. It’s like that feeling when someone tells you make a wish and you dream without the confines of reality. I have glimpses of his matured face in my mind often and I wish I could somehow photocopy them and fill the empty frames with smiling pictures of him staring back at me.