September 18th

was Emeth's due date. i told Kris yesterday that i would probably be calling her about now, complaining that my feet were so swollen, and about how i felt like a balloon, and about how i wished he would just hurry up and come out! probably he would have been late, since my marmie was always 2 weeks late or so. we'd have the nursery all ready, the glass bottles washed and lined up on a shelf, the changing table set up in the bathroom, the baby announcements ready to mail out after we filled in his date, weight, height and time, the family ready for a call any minute, the camera batteries charged, the hospital bag ready by the door, the little clothes washed and hung in his closet, a teacher lined up to substitute for my students, and all that. i'm probably forgetting something or another in that list.

well: as it is, i'm very comfortable and hardly swollen. i'm honestly not too gung-ho about getting pregnant again because all my memories of pregnancy are sort of normal. they're nothing special. nor are they tramatic, by any means. i think i've healed a lot. i just can't remember the joy of pregnancy, really. probably when i do that little test again someday and come up with a 'positive', i'll get the same flutter i did last time. husbandlove will cry again. i'll send cute little announcements to the family again. i'll sew some baby clothes again. i'll pour over baby-related anything again. i'll be impatient for every single day to pass again. i'll smile when he/she starts the little kicks and flutters. i'll go buy a little bunny doll from "bunnies by the bay" company when i find out if it's a boy or girl again. i'll start knitting another sweater again. and i just had a thought: i'll let myself enjoy this next one just as much as though it were my very first pregnancy. (even though i'm glad it's not!)

in the meantime: husbandlove has bought me a border collie puppy. i am having a blast and being overwhelmed by this puppy! wow. her name is Penny.

bye.

nursery rhymes:

today is a day when i, for some odd reason, feel a desperate urge to set up a baby nursery. actually, i've been feeling this need for about a week now. i keep thinking things like, 'oh yeah, the baby bed is just in the back of my closet, so i can get that out' and 'i'll have to remember to put the quilt on the rocking chair' and 'now, did i get a hanging lamp for that corner yet?' and 'let see, should i paint the little room, or just leave it creamy-white...'... each one of those thoughts has to be countered with "no, there isn't any baby nursery to be made. this month is just another month - it's not his due date on September 18th. he was born on July 7th. you can set up a nursery next year sometime." somehow i can't quite grasp this though, and i'm afraid i'll just give in and set up a whole nursery without really thinking about it.

we even had a little lambskin wool covering for his mattress. i have a nice organic wool-wash in my cleaning cupboard. and i forgot to get the cloth diapers....

this is a sad day for me. i'm trying to learn how to stay in my sadness and wait for Jesus to give me peace instead of going into other emotions like anger or despair. it's hard to stay in sadness and hard to wait for Jesus to bring me peace. and hard to counter untruths and disappointments with Truth and Hopes. 

today as i drove to my art class, i saw a little boy, about 7 years old, standing on the corner of the road with his little hoodie on - his eyes sparkling under the shadow of the hood - with a lonesome, waiting-sort-of expression. he was so tiny and precious. as i kept driving, i passed a multitude of children walking to their elementary school. i realized that i would miss seeing my little boy off to school. it was the first of those feelings i've had. i've heard about them from other moms... where i realize that i'm missing out on my little boy's life events - yes, i'll be so overjoyed to (Lord willing!) see my other children off to school, but i miss this little boy!

i met husbandlove's student's mom in the grocery store today. she had two of her four children with her, and is pregnant with her fifth. she's due in December. she saw me and waved and came closer. i asked her about her pregnancy - she happily answered my questions, then mentioned quietly how she'd heard about my baby and she was so sorry. i nodded and thanked her. her eyes filled up with tears as she offered, "well, your weight is coming off quickly..." i smiled, "yeah, it's coming." she didn't quite know what to say, and if it was anyone else but her, i could have been offended. but i wasn't - somehow, in a very awkward way, she got across what she wanted to say, and somehow, i really appreciated her attempt.

it's quite amazing how much a death will mature us. i am very happy with the change the Lord has brought about in my heart since this summer. :)

findings:

we found out yesterday that our little Emeth passed away from Amniotic Band Syndrome. there's a few articles online about it - you can look it up. basically, a small part of the tissue from the amniotic sac ruptures, and attaches itself onto the baby or the umbilical chord. it forms a band around wherever it attaches, and as the child grows, it remains constricted. when on the umbilical chord (emeth had a few wrapped around the chord), the blood supply is gradually cut off. when around the baby, it causes physical deformities. Amniotic Bands around the umbilical chord are a really really rare occurrence, most always causing of stillbirth. It's not genetic, nor is it caused by anything that they can pinpoint. It won't happen to any of my other children since it's so rare. sigh...

our reaction to the findings?... relief. i guess. and sadness... it's a little heartbreaking to imagine my little son slowly losing what he needs to live, unable to cry for the nourishment he lacks. but then the Lord mercifully intervenes into my mind and fills it with the truth - of my little child slowly losing what he needs from me, and quietly falling into the Lord's big, tender hands, gaining all he needs from his Heavenly Father. it's a big, glaring, startling truth that this child had to learn so early - how the world cannot be all we need to live, and only the Lord can give life. i wish i could've completely learned it so early. it leaves my arms feeling (necessarily) inadequate and empty. for no fault of my own, i was inadequate and Christ was adequate. under no circumstances could i have remedied this situation. overall, i am humbled before the Lord. it's a strange life, isn't it?

and yet we rejoice to know that i am able to carry perfectly healthy children. we smile at the nurse's words, "it's just basically unlucky - very very unlucky, you know?" ... she doesn't know it's my God's providence and something far from the trio of fate, chance and luck, but considered carefully and with lots of modification, her words are comforting. yes, we are comforted to find out why he passed... and we have a fresh new batch of 'why's and 'what if's to combat with the Truth. and a new bit of tears to cry.

today's thought

today, as i was driving to my drawing class, i had a thought: i don't even know what it's like to bring a baby home - the joys and the struggles are completely foreign to me. in a strange way, this is a little gift of grace. i had been thinking that losing a firstborn must be harder than losing a second or third or etc born... but you know, it must be really hard to come home from the hospital with nothing when you know what it is like to have a child to hold. i think then, that it's just a different sort of grief. if my inexperienced arms felt empty and aching, i wonder what experienced arms must feel like...

i read Solomon's story about the two harlots who were fighting over one living child with a different perspective today. i suddenly understood the desperation of the mother who stole the living child after finding her own child dead. and of her angry heart as she told Solomon to "go ahead and divide the child between us" - perhaps knowing that if the other woman's child were also dead, at least she would have someone to grieve with - someone in the same situation. boy... i couldn't imagine that case being taken to court today with lawsuits etc. there would have been DNA testing and everything.

i am doing very well now for the last 4 days. yesterday, we found out that one of our guinea pigs (for husbandlove's first grade classroom) is in fact a male, and not a female, as we'd been told. so now, instead of expecting a little boy in September, we are to expect guinea pig piglets in November! what surprises!!!  (i sincerely hope that doesn't sound inappropriate - i do try to find cheeriness where i can!) and what a fun science lesson for his little first grade class! we had the best time laughing after the shocking discovery last night.

today is sunny and quiet. 

to whoever has followed my blog thus far:

our dear little son, Emeth Lander Robins, has gone ahead to heaven and is precious in the arms of Jesus now. he passed at 29 weeks in-utero. we mourn his going - it's very hard to lose a first-born. it's very hard to lose a little one you've surrounded and held and nourished for 7 months. we've grieved well, though. we know this much. and how long has it been now since July 7th when i delivered his little body? ... let me check... 7 weeks. i was so proud to hold him and to be a mother. he was beautiful - 2 pounds 9 ounces - 15 inches long. had his daddy's hands and eyes, his grandpa's feet, his mommy's nose, mouth & chin, his grandma's nose... he was just perfect and tiny. we held him and loved him for a day, blessed and baptized him at a family memorial service, then let him go. i think that kissing his little chilly head and leaving him in the nurse's arms and walking out of the hospital with a little yellow box containing hand/foot prints, his hospital tags, and a little blue cap was the hardest thing i've ever done in my life.

yet we have grieved well. and the Lord has been so so good to us through this all.

here is something i never knew until July 7th: if you ever hear that someone has lost a little one, please take the time to ask questions... what did he/she look like? did you name him? was she just beautiful? tell me about the delivery. do you have pictures i could see? who was there with you? who was the nurse you left her with at the hospital? did you like that nurse? what was the kindest thing someone's done for you in this grief? show me, with your hands, how big your baby was. so when you held him, he was about this big? tell me about how you first found out. what were some of the things you'd done to get ready for her? did you have a crib waiting? was there something very special you'd gotten just for him? something you'd made? what did you pray over your baby while she was in the womb?

i start to wonder how many people i haven't done this for. i hope i remember from now on.

i read this poem today, and liked it:

.............

When loneliness comes stalking, go into the fields, consider

the orderliness of the world. Notice

something you have never noticed before,

like the tamourine sound of the snow-cricket

whose pale green body is no longer than your thumb.

Stare hard at the hummingbird, in the summer rain,

shaking the water-sparks from its wings.

Let grief be your sister, she will whether or no.

Rise up from the stump of sorrow, and be green also,

like the diligent leaves.

A lifetime isn't long enough for the beauty of this world

and the responsibilities of your life.

Scatter your flowers over the graves, and walk away.

Be good-natured and untidy in your exuberance.

In the glare of your mind, be modest.

And beholden to what is tactile, and thrilling.

Live with the beetle, and the wind.

This is the dark bread of the poem.

This is the dark and nourishing bread of the poem.

........by Mary Oliver.