Recognition

"Boy, your body is just not the same after having babies, is it? Your abs just don't go back the same."

We were walking out to our cars after our Pilates class, where we'd both laughed as we failed at trying to do a full sit-up. I don't know her name, but she is quiet and nice.

I mumbled some kind of agreement and thought, what if she asks? What will I say? Does she know? I never know what to say.

I said, "yeah, it is just not the same." Dang, she is gonna ask...

"So you have a very young baby, do you?"

Pause. Panic. "Uhhhhh, I did, but she died. Oh goodness, that sounded terrible, I'm sorry... yes, I had a baby daughter, but she died."

She kindly said, "I am so sorry, I didn't realize."

"No, of course, it's not your fault. It just comes out so awkwardly sometimes."

We said our goodbyes and got into our cars.


On the way home, I thought, how did she know I was a mom? Then it dawned on me that I have a mommy body now. She could see my baby pooch and the same weaknesses presenting themselves in my body as in hers. It made me proud and sad at the same time to be recognized this way. I'm part of the club, but not really part of the club. My body was a baby home, but my arms stayed empty.

I drove home to my quiet house and now I am sitting here intensely missing my little love, wondering what she would be like now. My 15 month munchkin, drooling and giggling and causing beautiful chaos for her mom and dad. I know she would have been a character - she already was, even in my belly. When a child dies, they leave such a void. A lifetime of I wonders and memories you don't get to build. I have been thinking a lot about our second baby lately too. We would be in the final stretch now, just about ready to bring home Haven's little brother or sister.

I really took it hard when my period came this month, especially with Mother's Day right after. I can't help but wonder when? or...if? My arms just ache to hold, my body to give, my lips to kiss. I yearn to see my husband fulfilled as a dad, finally able to give way to all of that love inside him.

I wonder where we will be this time next year? Will we have a house that is alive again, or will I still be listening to the refrigerator hum? Will we be facing a life without biological children or will my womb finally be blessed again?

Grief is a winding road with no destination...