what might have been

Even in the midst of such a happy, joyous, time, I stopped where I was to let myself cry. Surprising to some, it isn't always easy for me to find exactly what to say at the right time. So with that, on a day like today - my original due date; the day that will never be, I turn to an author that wrote it in the most beautiful of ways. Shauna Niequist, author of Bittersweet. Below is an excerpt from her fabulous book about "change, grace, and learning the hard way".

"Today is the day that would have been my due date, had my first pregnancy been a healthy one.  Nine months ago, the world was so different. I was so different. The concept of pregnancy was so different to me, so innocent. Of course I knew women who had miscarried: my mother, my aunt, my friends. But like anything, when it happens to you it's like waking up to a conversation you've heard before and only now grasp, and you realize entirely anew what they were taking about, what they were trying to find the words to describe."

So that's today, the day of what might have been. Soon, we will have another child. But we'll never have a child born on July 22, 2014.

"If you've been marked by what might have been, you don't forget. You know the days, the years. You know when the baby would have been born. You know exactly what anniversary you'd be celebrating, if the wedding had happened. You know exactly how old she'd be right now, if she were still alive. You'll never forget the last time you saw your child, or the last time cancer was a word about someone else's life, or the day that changed absolutely everything. It makes the calendar feel like a minefield, like you're constantly tiptoeing over explosions of grief until one day you hit one, shattered by what might have been." 

"On most days, for me, it's all right. But for today, for a minute, it's not all right. I understand that God is sovereign, that bodies are fragile and fallible. I understand that grief mellows over time, and that guarantees aren't part of human life, as much as we'd like them to be. But on this day, I'm crying just a little for what might have been." 

"I'll get up from here. Life will keep moving, exactly as it should. No one might ever notice today and what it means for me. But I'll always know."

"I don't know what date it is for you - what broke apart on that day, what was lost, what memories are pinned forever to that day on that calendar. But I hope that on that day you hold yourself open and tender to the memories for just a moment.  As one who grieves today, I grieve with you, for whatever you've lost, too, for what might have been." 
 
{Amy}