She Would Have Been Born Today

It's hard to believe that I would have been a mother for the second time had I not have to go through that awful procedure back in May. In fact, that is a part of me I cannot believe actually happened. It seems so surreal and so not a part of who I am today despite the fact that it happened six months ago.

But now I realize that all happens for the higher good. Maybe my job right now is to concentrate on my writing and the "birthing" of two books while giving my son everything he needs.

This creation of this loved baby girl came from a place of "VOICE" - of confidence, trust and courage in this universe knowing that in spite of being far away from home, I was at "home" with my decision. And I felt loved and had a strong enough support system in the United States to believe I was strong enough to expand our family.

When I first got the terrible news, I felt that VOICE was gone. I did not have words to convey the pain of what I felt. I wanted to scream, but couldn't. I wanted to cry, but couldn't. I even wanted to write, but couldn't. Our intentions to expand our brood were honorable, so why this terrible dooming fate? It was the unlucky experience we had to deal with that drove that "voice" away.

I also have to remember though that life for us is complete right now, too. With just the three of us and my many other "babies." And we need to give thanks for those things too.

I often wonder however when I'm not occupied with other stuff, how that baby girl's voice would sound. She never had a chance to cry in this world, be held or feel loved. How Ivry would respond to being a bigger brother.

She was part of my voice of helplessness and compassion. Our voices strung together like a melodic heartbeat.

Our grief has eased but I know it will last a lifetime because she is gone - she was the product of love between my husband and I.

The decision we made to terminate the pregnancy came from our own hearts, but in essence, she is "voiceless" because she never got a chance for her to make her "mark."

I can only imagine what it would have been like to hear her cry and dress and feed her - but at least I have the voice of this blog to share what this experience means to me.