This blog is small glimpses into my heart and soul - attempts to be transparent with friends, and sometimes, to myself. This is my safe place, where I can come and be purely Ness.

Family: If you found your way here, please do me a favor and don't poke through my closets, ok?

Friday, August 6, 2010

Tiny

I haven't written in a long time, mostly because I knew I needed to write about this, but it still feels too difficult. It's hard to know what to say - do I write about events, facts, the practical side? or about the emotions and feelings? It's a major part of my life, especially as I'm getting to the point where I have to think about the future and make decisions, but mostly it's background noise, a subtle buzz, and really, I want it to stay there. I don't want to bring it to the front and tune it in so I can hear it clearly. I lived there, I've done that, I want to not feel the sadness anymore. So, I suppose this will start as more factual, to keep the emotions at bay, but eventually it will deteriorate to the personal side - maybe sooner rather than later, as I can feel the tears pressing on my eyes already.
Shortly after I last posted with all the hope my heart could drum up, I lost my baby. I didn't know it yet, wouldn't for two more weeks, but she was gone already. It took two ultrasounds for my heart to catch up to my brain, and seven weeks for my body to catch up to my baby. The bruise still hasn't caught up to my life, which is so far beyond the loss, that it's old news replaced by old news.
The waiting in between was the worst, knowing that she was gone, but not gone; feeling pregnant without being pregnant; ready to move on, but not able to; wondering when, when, when? Some people didn't understand why I didn't just end it with a d&c, some were concerned that I was endangering myself, few understood that I just couldn't do that to my baby. She was still my baby after all, tiny and lost to me, she was still mine, and it was my job to protect her for as long as I could, even if all I could do was protect the little body she left behind.
(And, that doesn't even get into the risks for myself with a d&c. Why must people be so eager to jump on the medicine bandwagon? This is natural and right - leave it alone! I'm not stupid, I know the signs of danger; let me take care of myself!)
When she was finally birthed (what else do you call it? I still can't find a good word for bringing a lost tiny into the world), we could see a tiny, little, bright, white spot in one of the brilliant red clumps. It was her hand, reaching out as if to say, "I'm here, Mama. Come get me."
We got to see her, her tiny inch long body. Fingers the size of candy sprinkles, ears smaller than a freckle, tiny feet to match her hands, and eyes bluer than the sky.  We don't really know if she is a girl, but to us it just seemed fitting. We named her Sayuri, "tiny lily." We took pictures to remember her by, and placed her on a piece of velveteen, in a small box we had.  Tonight we will bury her, underneath a potted bush that used to be in the yard where I grew up, a bush that blooms beautiful pink flowers every summer, a bush that will now be a reminder of my precious "Tiny" Sayuri.

"Consider how the lilies grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these."  Luke 12:27