i've never had a miscarriage so early that i found out what i lost before i even knew that i had it.
It's a strange thing to understand you're pregnant and that you're losing the baby - all in the same breath - a feeling of wonder drenched in sorrow and dread.
And so i will name you Tiny. Tiny wonder that did me the honour of breaking my body - making sure that i knew you were there - that you lived.
i texted my husband in shock - telling him i was miscarrying a baby we never knew i was pregnant with.... and in tenderness, he sent the comfort and the acknowledgement i needed.
And so the loveliness of our time away was touched with the intimate sorrow... of losing Tiny.
And i find my own grief to be strange - there are a million flavours to it... and i'm unable to articulate a single one.
And i don't want to talk. i don't want to play and sing. i don't even want to think or cook or clean. i don't need anything from anyone - & i feel physically fine. i'm tired of my own flesh and i find i'm most comfortable wrapped around Ephraim waiting for Time to work her magic and make the sting a little less...
Next year will bring fewer moments endured - and more moments enjoyed, right?
Regardless, i trust Him. Job 1:21