Sunday, July 26, 2009

Other People's Babies

Over the past month, I received news that two of my friends (ok...four, two couples) were expecting. They're all wonderful people and great parents. Both couples already have sons of about the same age, though they don't know each other, and both boys would make great big brothers. Both couples very much wanted their pregnancies, although one hadn't been sure it was possible after a bout with cancer, and everyone was excited for them.

Then, within the span of about three days, I received news that both couples had lost their babies. I am now much closer to understanding what the word "heartbroken" really means. It's shocking how something so absolutely and energetically good can just vanish. And it's frustrating not only because I have no idea what they need right now, but because even if I did, both couples (one of whom I'm very close friends with) are in Texas. There's only so much comfort that can be sent over the internet, just doesn't seem a gift-sending occasion, so for now, I'll stay my knitting needles. I am, I think, going to mark the passings by lighting a candle...or my own fumblingly pseudo-religious way. I don't believe that life begins at conception, and I certainly don't believe you have to be loved to have a soul, but...I think perhaps it may speed things along. These little people were very loved during their brief time in the world, and they still are.

In considerably happier news, my boyfriend (who will remain nameless) and I will be picking up his son from the airport next Saturday! He'll be with us all month, and we've decided to spend most of our time at my place, with a detour down south to the family farm (his family, not mine, but they're great). This has meant kitting out the "guest room" in the basement into something a little more kid friendly and less, well...basement-like, which has been a lot of fun! It's also involved a couple of new projects. Last summer, the incredible blond lightening bolt was quite attached to his army of stuffed animals. This summer, my boyfriend, who shall remain nameless, speculates that he may not have room in his luggage for any, as he's flying alone for the first time. Thus, currently, there is a pile of knitted, unstuffed rabbit parts. Soon there will be a rabbit. I figure if he thinks it's lame, I can foist it on my 8-month-old roommate. :-)

There is also (very nearly) a quilt (pictured above with my baby, Harlot)! I must admit, I'm making this quilt for myself because I absolutely hate my comforter. But it's occured to me that when my boyfriend, who shall remain nameless, and I finally get around to shacking up, it'll probably wind up on the incredible blond lightening bolt's bed. The overachiever who lives in my rian thinks I can have this done in time to put on his bed in the basement. The sane person who cohabitates with the overachiever in my brain is not so sure, but isn't worrying since there's more than enough bedding to go's just not quite as snappy and hand-made. At any rate, it's coming along really nicely, and we'll just see when and for whom it comes out.


  1. When Stephen broke up with me I thought it was the worst thing in the world, until I learned that a mutual friend of ours had lost a baby they'd been trying for for years, and I cried harder than I ever knew I could. *sending love* for your friends.

    I also have an overachiever in my brain that thinks I can finish the stuffed car I've been working on in the next four days before I go to my cousin's wedding and see my niece. I'm going to try...

  2. Love and good thoughts to you and your friends.

    Unfortunately, miscarriage often happens when something is going wrong. That's just the way it works. I had 4 pregnancies, resulting in 2 miscarriages and 2 wonderful children. That's the sweetness of life... sweet and sad.

    Be assured that if a soul was there for a while, it is going on to another life, with the experience serving its purpose for all involved. This is best in the long run for the little life and for the big lives. I know it's really hard for those of us left to carry on. Now I'm tearing-up for the sweetness of life.