I thought it would be something I could do during those long nervous months of the third trimester. My second and third pregnancies had resulted in stillborn baby boys, so I planned to stitch something beautiful, donate it to an appropriate pregnancy-loss charity after our Little Bug was safely in our arms, and enjoy the restoration of some mystical cosmic balance.
And then it happened again. The ultrasound showed no heartbeat. And I suddenly felt very cold.
So I bought all this beautiful deep blue yarn and just started to crochet. Single crochet. No complex pattern. Certainly nothing that would win me any prizes. I gave up the goal of winning a contest and just felt the familiar slide of the yarn through my fingers, the weight of the growing fabric on my lap, the rhythm of the movements used to create each little bit.
And as the inevitable tears fell with each stitch, I felt warmth again. Little by little, I felt the anger and the "why me?" change to something resembling gratitude...love...peace. My Little Bug was a part of me for 19 hopeful, love-filled weeks. And that is something I can hang onto to keep me warm.
Saturday, May 01, 2010
I entered a contest. I'm not sure I should have...but it seemed "right" somehow.