You know you're pregnant when you find yourself sitting alone in your kitchen at 4 in the morning, eating ice cream straight out of the carton and weeping. Not a pretty picture.
My sister refers to this state of being as "hormotional," and let me tell you, it's not pleasant. I did have a pretty good reason though; I heard that an old high school friend of mine gave birth to a stillborn baby last week.
Tragedies like these leave me swirling in a vile gumbo of emotions: heartsick for my old friend, reliving the awfulness of Rose's birth, terrified for Bumbo and just generally pissed off at the universe - hence the sleepless/ice cream/weeping combo.
My sisters have calmed me somewhat with their sagacity: I'm healthy and so is Bumbo, my friend's sad experience is not some cosmic sign that something bad is going to happen to me. D has also helped me by saying, simply, that he is there for me, no matter what happens. These are all things that I know and try to reassure myself with, but it still helps to hear them spoken out loud.
I wrote my friend a letter today (and went through half a box of Kleenex) to try and tell her how sorry I am; if there is one thing I'm grateful for after having had Rose, it's the increase in compassion I now have for others who may be going through something similar. Pregnancies, children - I'll never take either for granted again.
As mad as I am at God right now, I cling to the hope that someday these things will make sense to me. There's gotta be a reason. And until I figure it out, there's always Haagen-Daaz.
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11