Wednesday, October 24, 2007


My week started out with a miracle being born. Faith restored.

Today I found out one of the models that we work with a lot gave birth to her baby at 18 weeks. She got an infection and her water broke and her baby was born perfect but too teeny to live. This was another baby that had been wanted & waited for years...I just don't understand it. It feels so mean. I find myself aksing WHY? WHY? WHY? over and over.

I spoke with her on the phone and she is in the surreal state of shock where you just feel like this is all a nightmare that you will surely wake from...even while you are planning a funeral...even while your milk comes in and there is no baby to feed...even when you wake up in the night and feel relief for one second and then wake a bit more and realize that no, it wasn't a nightmare, it really did happen.

She told me the story of what happened down to every last detail. I remember doing this too. Every time I told someone I was hoping somewhere in the telling of every detail of what I drank, ate, felt that day, there would be an answer to WHY? She told me about her daughter's toes and how beautiful they were. In a flash I was back in the delivery room holding Tess and Oliver and burning the image of their toes into my memory. A few weeks later I was sitting in a hot tub in Napa surrounded by wonderful friends in the most gorgeous place when I looked down and realized Tess' toes looked. Just. Like. Mine. Sweet and devastating all in the same breath. Tears poured every morning and every evening on that trip. And they still do. Like today. Like Monday when I saw P with her baby.

I stopped praying for things a long time ago. While some people find a sense of calm in their faith, even in the storm of great tragedy, I have found it does not help me. My family is very devout and while I believe in some form of higher power, I do not believe there is a G*d sitting up there dolling out miracles to some and "testing" others with tragedy. I can't get my head around that concept. But today I found myself praying, not sure to who or what, but I said a prayer for this beautiful woman who will be the most wonderful mother...that one day she'll be out of this dark place and will be on the other side too. I'm looking for that fast forward button that P and I wished for so many times over the last eight months. Again I want to jump to the end of the book and know that it's a happy ending. And then I said a prayer for every woman I know still waiting to become a mother. And finally one of thanks for my very own miracle, for P&J's miracle, for A's miracle, for P's double miracle and all the babies that have been born happy and healthy even with the odds stacked against them.

My heart still feels heavy today. I still want to know WHY.
And I am mad because there will never be an answer to that question.


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