Doesn't Feel Real...

I am definitely showing, especially because on a tiny woman, 3 months is pretty evident.

But the baby's gone.

I just pulled out all my maternity clothes because I just couldn't push my regular clothes any more.

But there's no heartbeat. We just saw it wiggling all over the screen two weeks ago. Yesterday, it was curled up in a little ball looking out.

We looked at cribs this weekend.

But I'm going to the hospital today and when I walk out, will not have the baby I walked in with safely tucked inside of me. Same hospital where I've already done that before... With Matthew.

I heard the heartbeat just a few days ago.

Now all my medical bills and paperwork will credit abortion to me. Such an ugly term. Then again, it's an ugly procedure.

I was sort of secretly hoping it would work out that this baby would be born in Maryland like his brothers.

Well, like one of its brothers, I am forced to leave the remains behind in St. Mary's county.

I have been feeling little kicks. I thought it was early, but I've lost some weight so thought it was possible. I still feel those little jabs. Cruelty. I felt phantom kicks after Matthew for nearly 6 months. I'm doing my best to take my lot, but FINALLY looking and feeling pretty pregnant only to find out that the baby is dead just seems cruel.

This does not feel real. John agrees. I just keep asking John, "Are you sure???? Was Dr. Sweeney sure???? Maybe it was just sleeping and we didn't look for it to move long enough????!"

Desperation, I realize, as John tells me again and again, "No, Lori. It's sure. Sleeping babies still have heartbeats."

"But maybe we just didn't look long enough for it??? Maybe since it was curled up, we couldn't see it????"

Please??????
Please??????
Please??????
Dear God, please??????

There is no easy time to lose a baby. I've lost a baby fully-termed the day after he was born. Devastation doesn't do the emotion justice.

This baby had perfectly formed body parts. Little hands I dreamed of caressing. Little toes I dreamed of kissing. A heart beating. The same heart I dreamed would walk across a stage and collect a diploma. This was my third baby. Not some underdeveloped tissue. Not some organism not compatible with life.

My baby.
Another miracle.
Another blessing.

I refuse to use the word fair because there is no doubt that this world is UNFAIR!!!! But, that I have more babies in Heaven than in my arms is so unnatural.
So surreal.
So heavy.

I've said that losing Matthew has proven that I can survive just about anything. I've even been praying that if again, something awful were to happen, I'd be able to maintain my gratitude and appreciation for a good God who has given me so many precious blessings and so much happiness. Just three or four days ago, in my closet, on my knees, I cried to God, thanking Him for such an amazing, wonderful, joyous and happy life I live. Begging Him to not have me endure anything more, but telling Him that if I had to, I could trust that I'd survive and be ok and be happy again.

I promised that with Matthew too.

I can't lie. I don't know that I will be voicing those words any more.

I mean them.

I will do my best to adhere to them.

I look at Luke and know that God MUST be good to give me such a precious gift.

It just seems like every time I say the words, I'm given the opportunity to prove them.

This just doesn't seem real.
Sadly, though, I know that it is.

Real and permanent.
No negotiating.
No begging.

No more baby.