My beloved suggested that perhaps God was asleep at the wheel. After stepping far, far away from him to avoid being hit by the bolt of lightning, I laughed. It wasn't a jolly belly laugh though. It was more of a knowing chuckle paired with an eye roll. I know God had a reason, I just can't for the life of me figure out what it was.
And he still hasn't answered my question. I still don't know where I go from here. Maybe I'm not listening hard enough (God's whisper is awfully quiet sometimes), or maybe he hasn't gotten around to telling me yet, but I still don't know where I'm headed.
I know I'm not ready to consider getting pregnant again just yet. I've been pregnant on and off since 2003 and I have nothing to show for it except a slightly purple scar, a slight incontinence issue, a very fragile psyche, and some gut-wrenching pictures of the world's most beautiful and perfect baby boy. After two miscarriages and then losing Thomas, I don't know if or when I'll be ready to travel down that road again.
But the thing is, if don't make that journey, I'll never again have the chance to look into the face of my own child and see bits of me and bits of my beloved and know that our love created a life.
Poor, sweet Thomas. It was horrific seeing him hooked up to so much machinery and even more horrific knowing he wasn't really there at all -- but I can still feel the warmth of his little head under my hand as I touched him and stared, with awe, at the tiny person we'd made.
God, if that's you, whisper a little louder, okay?
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