My sister, Heather is taking over my blog today. She recently suffered a loss and dealt with it by writing. It’s full of heart and lost dreams, and I think it is too beautiful not to share. Please give her some love.

This morning I was feeling solid euphoria. I cleaned the entire house. I was in awe of the power and effectiveness of my Goddess body. I felt clear and relieved and okay. And I wanted to scream at myself “DO NOT BELIEVE THIS!! IT IS A LIE!” I remember this elation after my first child was born. I felt beautiful and sexy and strong. And then post partum kicked in and my life went into crazy land. I am getting ready for this loony ride. I know it is coming. But this time, there is no baby at the end. No sweet baby girl. For years I have meditated on the words “I will have a healthy, happy, smart, baby girl”. For weeks I believed it was time. I dreamed of my sweet girl. I had names. I couldn’t help it. I had names picked out for her. I know this was not the time. Ammar and I did not make a conscious decision to have this baby. We have not even yet made complete, conscious, decisions to be together. My engagement ring still sits in my bedside table. Waiting.

So this baby girl, perhaps knew this was not the time. She jumped in, an eager soul to be with this lovely family. And we are a lovely family. We love each other, we play together and Isaiah is the happiest, sweetest boy I could ever have dreamed up. But perhaps my smart, baby girl realized this was not the time. We were scared of money. We were scared of being able to provide for a family with two children at this time. We were scared of losing each other, caring for a baby before we were ready to care for ourselves. This perfect soul decided to give us some more time. I knew something was wrong. I felt a burning for weeks. The doctor said it all looked good, but I felt the difference. So I stopped having morning sickness. My breasts stopped swelling as they did last time when they gave me a brief moment of Barbie doll status. My last pregnancy I felt like a rock star. I knew this one was different. At nearly 10 weeks, I went into work. I did not feel like moving, so I was working at my desk. Coloring an activity for a future lesson plan. Meditative work. Then I started bleeding. Just a little bit but I knew something was wrong.

I showed up at the OBGYN. Could have been just a normal check-up where she told me I was being over anxious and that everything was just fine. They set me up with an ultrasound. Laying there, I saw it. I saw her. I knew. I knew before my  doctor  said a word. My clinical but gentle Dr. stated, “ I am not seeing movement…like I should… and… I don’t feel a heartbeat.” This took a life-time to say. Slowly it sunk in. No sweet baby girl. No more dreaming and planning for a future baby to snuggle and love, with all of my mommy heart. I love being a mommy. Nothing has made me happier. I feel so perfectly right as a mommy. Of course I make mistakes and feel at a loss much of the time. But I am supposed to be doing this. Before Isaiah, I had never felt so overcome with love. Every cell in my body loves… no worships this boy of mine. I dote on his smell, his words, his laugh, his very being. I can watch him for hours and I miss him when he goes to sleep. I am meant to be a mommy.

I also always pictured myself with a baby girl. Don’t get me wrong, I love having a boy. There is nothing like the feeling of being the sun and the moon and the stars to a little boy. We are connected like no one else. We make perfect sense. He grabs my hand, and checks if it is cold or warm, and I swoon. He tells me I smell like glitter and he always wants me to put him to bed at night. I love my boy. But I also have an image of my girl. We will probably fight. She will probably think I have bad taste in everything and I will never be cool enough for her. But she will be my legacy. She will be the one who pours over who I was after I am gone. She is the one I will have tea parties with and then years later, glasses of wine and chats at midnight. She will get my diamond ring and my special “sweet 16” necklace given to me by my mommy. To me, she will be the most beautiful person who has ever walked the earth. She will be more than anything I can presently imagine. Some day I might tell her about my miscarriage. The baby who was not meant to be. I will hold her and hug her through her downs and tell her how powerful she can be. The power of a woman’s body. How we can create life. How we can take care of ourselves through all kinds of trauma. How we are survivors. Maybe I will help her shop for a prom dress or hold her hand when puts the tiara on her head as a final touch before she walks down the isle. Or maybe not. Maybe I will support her decision to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro or fight fires. Who knows, but I will always be my children’s mommy and love them. No matter what.

But for now, I will live through this miscarriage. I will bleed and bleed and bleed. I will live through this cramping, through this extreme pain. This broken heart. Thank you for showing me a strength I never thought possible. Good-bye for now, my baby dream. Until we meet again.