Sometime this week I would have been celebrating the 16th birthday of my second child. I am mourning instead, because I suffered a miscarriage 10 weeks into my pregnancy. Early I know, but no less devastating to lose my baby. It still hurts today.
Most of the time, I'm okay. This loss may explain my zeal for making baby quilts to be given to infants born at the local hospitals, babies who sometimes go home without a warm blankie to snuggle in. I honestly don't think about my missing child while I'm working on those quilts. I'm filled with joy, thinking of the child that particular quilt will end up with, sewing love and good wishes as well as stitches.
But today, that loss is heavy on my heart. Someone in my life is facing the emminent loss of their unborn child. I can do nothing for this person but love them, and grieve with them. And to be honest, that sucks. Big time.
Tomorrow, I will be working on three more quilts for babies I will never meet. And I'm afraid that I will be shedding tears as well as joy and love all over those quilts.