She #fiveminutefriday

Five Minute Friday

*trigger warning: loss*

There were things that she was afraid of, things that she would write down in the cracks between her skin to hide them. so the world couldn't see.  Of all those things, lipstick collars and too tight fat jeans, this was the worst thing she could have ever imagined.

"I'm sorry," the nurse said scanning the wand with her white gloved hand over her belly.

The screen was black and gray and her heart was made of stone.  Two days ago she had seen the beating heat and the waving arms and legs.  She could feel the flutter of those limbs deep with in her when she lay very still.  She was out of the woods.  That's the way it was supposed to be.  She wasn't supposed to lose her baby at nineteen weeks.  She wasn't supposed to lose her baby at all.

It was a girl.  Her very own daughter, the prize of her womanhood.  They would name her Cecelia Rose and she had picked out soft pinks and lilacs for the nursery.  Her grandmother gave her the dress that she had been baptized in, faded from white to ivory over the years.

And then she started to bleed.

Just a little at first.  She googled "second trimester spotting" and tried to calm her frantic brain.  But the blood  kept coming and then the pain.  Her husband rushed her to the ER while she poured the salt from her eyes onto the soft blanket she had knitted, the blanket for the baby that would never be.

"Cecelia," she whispered as she clutched her swollen and empty belly, and wondered how the nights would turn to days without the flutter of movement within her.  She had failed, as a woman, as a mother.  God had designed her to bear children and she had failed him.  A broken thing, she cast herself aside.  Cecelia...

24 comments:

  1. This is incredibly well-written. And heartbreaking.


    You're super talented, friend.

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  2. Thank you my friend <3

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  3. Very well written. Having lost three babies to miscarriage, I can identify with that scenario all too well. Good post!

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  4. Wow, just...wow. This is powerful and sad and so well done. Thank you.

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  5. Thank you my friend. I'm sorry for your losses <3

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  6. Thank you for reading Sarah. I love this community.

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  7. Love you Meg. Your writing is incredible.

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  8. Beautiful and you know it. ;) So sad it makes me want to crumble inside and start far earlier than we were thinking of.

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  9. Just simply beautiful !! I love reading your words each and every time.

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  10. wow. My heart broke as I read that....I've watched friends go through that and I can't imagine.

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  11. Oh my goodness. That was so powerful, so beautiful and so heart wrenching all at the same time. Wow.....just wow. Beautifully written.

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  12. Powerful and heart-wrenching. Just wow.

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  13. Oh my friend... I can see the heartbreak and feel the beauty... the ugly beautiful... the tender eucharisteo...the sacred and holy... so much power..

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  14. hmmm. so beautiful and heartbreaking all in one! Do you write books or anything like that because this sounds like could seriously come straight out of a book, its that good and that polished. Thank you so much for sharing this deep story and image with us!

    Visiting from FMF.

    Blessings and have a beautiful weekend!

    Jessica

    http://mybeautifulli.blogspot.com/2013/09/five-minute-friday-she.html

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  15. Powerful, heartbreaking yet beautiful! Thank you for sharing!

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  16. Nicole Rubackin HaywardSeptember 20, 2013 at 12:43 AM

    Wow that is heart wretching.

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  17. Oh. My heart hurt in reading this. I've never lost a pregnancy, but at my first pregnant ultrasound after infertility for 4 years, the NP told me there was "Nothing in my uterus". It felt like this, we felt like this (your words) for the hour in between leaving that place, driving to the other facility and the doctor finding our babies in my womb.


    Failed as a woman, failed as a mother...yes, I still feel this way sometimes. That without medicine my body would never do what it was designed to do and that hurt is a deep, personal ache.


    wow, Megan. Sending love. xo

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  18. well done. again. (and i don't think i'll read it again, its a powerful sadness. )

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  19. This is such an honest portrayal, and a tragedy that I, myself, have experienced at 34 weeks. Great writing today, friend.

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  20. :( I'm so sorry for your loss. what a powerful FMF.
    You didn't fail, you're not broken. You are His. <3

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  21. This is achingly beautiful... just heart searing. Lifting you up friend for recalling this must have come hard... {hugs}

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  22. I know that pain. This is beautifully written and so very...very....hard.

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