Surreal weekend. Sitting at on a blanket at Lake Harriet last night blissfully listening to the Minnesota Sinfonia play on a crystal clear beautiful night while the kids ran around and giggled beside us. Watching the kids swing on the monkey bars and laugh with the complete abandon that only children seem to be able to muster as they slid down the slide. Watching the sun set as the kids stopped to roll down every hill on the way back to our car. Smiling this morning as my children ran from booth to booth greeting strangers with wide grins and wishes of “Happy Pride” at Loring Park. Planning a 3rd Annual Pierce-Ralph Pride Barbecue for this evening that was destined to never happen. Getting a frantic call from my mother. Sitting in room 1601 at Regions Hospital listening to the nurses explain to my sister how exactly they would help her find the resolve and the strength to go through labor and delivery to bring a stillborn 23-week-old baby into this world. Wondering silently to myself how anyone is expected to survive that sort of grief. Listening to my brother-in-law's hushed talk of burial arrangements for his tiny daughter in the hospital hallway, away from my sister's ears.
This evening I am holding my children close and waiting for the call that will summon me back to the hospital for the delivery. It could be tonight. It could be tomorrow. There is no knowing how long it will take when a uterus is not ready—not expected, not prepared—to deliver.
Life is fragile. Bliss is delicate. Everything changes in the blink of an eye. Prayers, good thoughts, positive energy. These are all welcome if you feel so inclined.
4 comments:
So sorry to hear about your sister. I will hold you and your family in the light.
Popping out of my typical lurker mode to let you know that I am sending positive thoughts to your sister and your whole family. I am so sorry to hear of her loss.
Oh, Shannon. I am sooooo sorry. What a horrible loss for your entire family. My prayers go out to all of you during this difficult time and the continued long-term mourning and grief. I will be holding my own kids a little closer today too. I am so sorry.
Shannon, I am so sorry for your family's loss. I'm terribly late to this news--haven't checked out the blog in a while--but I can only imagine that your sister and BIL's pain, as well as the entire family's, continues to be felt. A friend and Lamaze student of mine lost her baby at 22 weeks the day before your post. It is an unimaginable loss, but they are still parents all the same, whether their baby is with them in body or in spirit. My prayers are with all of you.
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