Exhale
Mase and I had planned to go on a camping trip for some quality time this past October. Selah was going to be with grandma (Nona), and all was well until last minute when a few things in our schedule changed along with the weather so, we decided it would be best to stay home.
Early Friday morning I woke up and cleaned the house until around 9pm, stopping only to eat lunch, dinner, and make a quick run to “Targé” (it’s my quiet place!) By the end of the evening my body was exhausted, and my legs were cramping. This pregnant momma of 22 weeks needed a break but ofcourse, my two-year-old was just getting started!
I had reached the point of no return with my Selah. When her energizer bunny kicks in, she is hard to control. I turned my back to prepare a late-night snack when all of a sudden, I hear a “swifff, clank, thunk” and then…complete silence. Let me tell you, the silent cry is the deadliest!
Low and behold there in the middle of my kitchen lays Selah, on top of a puddle of milk she was apparently spitting out from her sippy cup. The dogs began to fester around her trying to lick up the milk as I leaned over, belly and all to pick her up. All the while, trying to keep her calm and decide whether to finish my snack, clean the mess up, or start her a bath. Decisions, Decisions!
With all the love I have inside of me for my baby girl, I had about lost every ounce of patience I had left in my love tank. Thankfully soon after, Mason came walking through the door and I did one of those “tag you're it” expressions and went to our room to rest. I couldn’t even look him in the eyes for a polite or lovely “hello” as he walked through the front door. At that point I was feeling furious, uptight, exhausted, and just needed some space away from the craziness.
Amongst the stress I felt so angry but, I couldn’t quite process why I was feeling so. I had no desire to make conversation with Mason and no strength in me to tighty up the kitchen and living room before the night was over. Even though I had intended to stay in my room and watch Netflix for the evening, I couldn’t help but feel restless. I laid on my bed but felt this sudden pull to go into Selah’s room. Most of my day was spent there, re-arranging spaces to prepare for the arrival of our baby boy coming soon. I had even made a makeshift closet out of our linen cabinet to hang our new little boy clothes in, re-working the placement of our linens and towels and finally hung up about 4 pieces of clothes for baby boy Horsley.
Nevertheless, I got up from my bed, walked into Selah’s room, and my eyes clung to the new closet I had created. The longer I staired the deeper my heart sank into my chest. I felt the water within my body welling up just like the water in a belly of a whale before it spouts out to breathe, and before I knew it my eyes were holding a fountain of tears and there I was, exhaling the journey we’d been on for the past 22 weeks.
The new closet was beautiful, but an aspect of it looked and felt empty to me. I couldn’t help but think about one of the twin babies we lost during this pregnancy and the clothes that could have filled the rest of the closet space up.
I couldn’t help but think about the moments of joy and surprise, finding out we were pregnant, then hearing the big whammy from our Ultrasound Tech, “Do twins run in your family? There are two separate sacs and two babies!” I even recounted the words from my Doctor a few minutes later, “Welcome to your twin pregnancy!”.
In this restless moment of going to Selah’s room and staring at this little closet, I found myself simultaneously in my doctor’s office on the exam table, looking at the TV monitor and hearing the same ultrasound tech say, “There’s only a singleton” and from the same Doctor, “I’m sorry for your loss.”
We lost one of our babies at around our 10-12-week mark and little did I know, God had led me out of my room this evening, to stare at this closet and process the emptiness I had been trying to hide. It was time to Exhale.
Next Blog: "Songs of Deliverance” will be published on 11/21/20