Aching Arms

Today my arms are aching.  They are aching because they long to hold our first child...yet they remain empty.  Today marks our first child's expected due date.  I cannot help but think about what might have been or what should have been.  The "should have been's" get me every time.  Lately, these have been the biggest triggers of my grief and today is a big "should have been". 

We should have been meeting our baby face to face for the first time.  We should have been looking into our baby's big brown or blue eyes and experiencing something our hearts have yet to experience.  We should have been holding our baby in our arms, rejoicing.  Instead, my arms are empty and aching.

Our precious baby is on my mind and heart today.  And today is a day to remember him or her.  A day to remember the short, but significant impact he or she has had on our hearts and lives.  A day to remember the grieving, but also the healing.  A day to briefly reflect on those moments we never thought we would survive, yet to see how our God has brought us through.  

However, to be very honest, a part of me does not want to forget even the horrific days because even those encompass the memories I have of our baby.  Although there is much pain in those memories, there is also so much love for someone we have never met.  I remember being so excited to see our baby for the first time on the ultrasound screen and to hear his or her heartbeat.  And even though that day was the furthest thing from what we hoped, our love for our baby and our joy to see him or her is something I still hold dear.

Even as I am writing this, I am realizing that it is not only about holding onto the memories.  The time was just too short and the memories were just so few that I actually fear forgetting our baby.  However, as I type this I realize how silly that sounds because you cannot forget someone who is a part of you and a part of your heart.  Even though it may hurt less and less often, our love for baby will always be there.  Our healing does not mean we are forgetting our baby or loving him or her any less, and in the same way our remembering and reflecting does not mean we have to relive and re-grieve everything all over again.

It is apparent that there are times in the grieving process when we experience extremely painful moments and have flashbacks, but today is different.  It is different because some healing has taken place.  It is different because we are further from where we began.  It is different because there has been some acceptance.  Today is a day of reflection, and for me part of that reflection is the natural inclination to think of "what should have been" and for this reason my heart and empty arms ache.

However, today is also a day of remembering.  Remembering the hopes and dreams we had for our baby.  Remembering the anticipation and excitement of seeing a picture of our baby for the first time.  Remembering how deeply Ashton touched my heart and changed me, even though his or her life was so brief.  All of which point to the huge amount of love we have for our baby.  A love that will always remain through all time, circumstances, and healing.