My Two-and-a-Half Week Miracle

Author’s note: Below are my raw emotions regarding a personal loss. I share this warning in advance, should you not wish to read, I understand. I certainly don't want to cause any hurt.

I was told that the kitchen was closed. Menopause come and gone. Done, done, done. So no, you were not expected.That did not make you unwanted.

Surprise had quickly led itself to joy. Fears morphed into excitement. And dreams of my crazy elderly life filled my imagination. So what if I might be a grandmother while you were still in school. Your dad and I reconfigured the house in our minds and set on a path of making you welcome.

You were our miracle.

Clearly. Because who gets pregnant after menopause? Me, that's who. We scheduled appointments and quietly shared the news. No chance of hiding you until we passed that 10 week mark, your sister found the test. Thus began the journey of Little Baby P.

We talked names. "I" names are not that common. Big Sis kissed the belly. Even Big Brother would come in to say goodnight...to you, me second.August 17th was your due date. 8.17.17I shall not forget that date.And then like a will-o-wisp, you were gone.

We looked at the screen and the home I made for you was empty. Black hole had a new meaning for me. There it was a very well defined, deep dark hole where you used to be.I knew instantly. Even as they offered further testing, they would only confirm what my heart told me.

You had moved into the land of angels after only a short visit here on Earth. Here inside of me. But much like your siblings, you would not go without making your mark. On my heart and on my body. I had to deliver you. Tiny and not yet fully-formed, but still you would be delivered.

My body remembered this experience. My back and side racked and tightened in a way that it has only done twice. The days that brought me the joy of your siblings' births. But that day I delivered you. 30 weeks premature. You left my body but there was no wrapping in a blue/pink blanket and laying at my breast.

You left my body for the wings of an angel. You will always be in my heart, my Two and a Half Week Miracle.