I got word today that my best friend miscarried this week. It's brought about a series of emotions that seems to rest somewhere in a dynamic sense of loss and self-righteous anger and then concern.
A sense of loss because Peanut J Love Muffin was gonna be one kick but kid. And the kid in town who I could play aunt to when I can't see my neice and nephews in Nebraska. If Peanut tured out half as awesome as his parents he'd be one hell of a kid. I'm greiving the chance to see him grow up, and the chance to watch my friend watch him grow up. She is really ready to be a mom.
Which brings us to the self-righteous anger and concern. She's ready to be a mom, and there are very few people who I could say that of. She's not looking to fill a void in her life by having something to do or someone who loves her. She wants a family because she's ready to give all the rest of the love in her oversized heart to someone else in her family. She's so ready for it it hurts. She's so motherly that I sometimes wish she was old enough to be my mom so I could have yet another. And I mean that in the most sincerly happy way ever. She's a bake you cookies when you're having a bad day kind of mom. If you ever meet her, you'd know it right off the bat too. So the anger kicks in.
How could God not give her this kid when he's willing to let my crack head cousin have two? How could God not put a kid in to this insanely happy and healthy home when he'd put six into the unhealthy home my neice and nephews were saved from? How could he play with my friend's emotions to let her conceive but then not carry to term? Where the hell is the good in that?
Then the anger at society's phrases for this. It's always "So and so miscarried." or "She lost the child", there is always a tone of fault and it's always the mom's. That's not fair. Trust me there was nothing this girl could have done to have better prepared herself and her body to carry this kid. She wasn't running around lifting a million pounds or drinking or smoking or what have you. She created the best little home for the kid possible. If Peanut wasn't willing to stick around, that's not her fault at all.
The anger gives way to concern. What can I say to her that will make this better? Nothing. I can try but then again, there's nothing I can do. Not a single solitary thing that will make this different or better. I know she's crying her self to sleep. I know she wants to hide from the world, curl up in a little ball and let the world go away. I don't know how to pull her out of it and I don't know if I'd want to. If I were her I'd hate me for pulling me out of it. Then there's her husband who's become a friend as well. How does he go on with school and work when his world is falling apart? How does he save his wife with out throwing away everything they've worked so long and so hard for?
I don't have the answers to these questions although it's not the first I've been in this spot. It wasn't that long ago that I was asking the same questions when my brother and sister (in-love) suffered the loss of their first child. If you think of it, please say a little prayer for my friend and all the families who have lost loved ones particularly children. Lord knows that's the only way to save these broken hearts.
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