February 3, 2012.

February 3^rd, 2012.  2/3/12. Small little numbers, 2, 3, 1, and 2.  They are seemingly insignificant, tiny numbers.  Those numbers should yield a day just like any other day.  Nothing major should happen on a day with those calendar numbers.  It should be a routine day filled with work, errands, an OB appointment, and dinner with friends. 

Rewind to the dark midnight hours of February 2^nd.  On this night, the night before February 3^rd, I wrestled through a vivid nightmare about death.  This nightmare was filled with choices I was forced to make, and I woke up in a panic with a blank stare and a thousand questions.  I brushed it off as best as I could; pregnancy does produce some really crazy dreams. 

 

The candle of intuition burned while sleeping. 

 

Give sorrow words;

the grief that does not speak

whispers the o’er-fraught heart and bids it's break.

-William Shakespeare-

On February 4^th, I typed my thoughts on the screen through glassy eyes and with a heavy heart. 

February 3^rd will now be stained into my mind and memory as the day my heart broke in two.   The heartbeat that I had lived and breathed for since the moment I found out I was pregnant had stopped.  Just like that, as if a watch runs out of battery or a car runs out of fuel.  It just stopped.  Unlike a watch or a car, I could not simply fix it with buying a new battery or filling up the tank with gas. 

No movement on the screen, no movement inside.  My virgin ultrasound eyes viewed my baby for the first time as a still image.  The tiny image was still and stationary - imperfectly perfect. 

Those images are burned in my brain forever. Those thoughts permeate my mind incessantly.

It was as if a knotted rope had formed within my lungs and then began weaving through the compartments of my heart.  As hard as I tried, I could not untie the knots.  The knots formed a thick, tangled mess.    

  

I felt as though my sweet husband and I had traveled this journey to become parents with an initially strong, trustworthy compass that had suddenly shattered, leaving us without direction. We woke up each day for 16 weeks with hope and wonder for the beautiful miracle we would meet sometime in the summer of 2012.

 

It has been 8 days since the day my heart broke in two.

 

I will gracefully and peacefully work each day to turn my face into the sun.  I know that I can find this peace and these rays of light through knowing deep within my heart that God is right there with me along this crooked path. 

I truly feel that our Little Wonder is in a place more magnificent than this earth now, eternally protected.

 In the night of death, hope sees a star,

and with listening,

love can hear the rustle of a wing.

 -Robert Ingersoll-

You will always be our Little Wonder, and we were lucky to know you and be your parents for a few short months.  We will hold you in our hearts forever.