I've had good reason to avoid blogging these last few weeks. You see, I was pregnant.
And we hadn't decided to tell anybody yet, and so it was a great big fun surprise.
And then we found out the baby had died a few weeks ago. Probably about the time I had stopped taking the pregnancy test (okay, tests: there were three of them) out of my sock drawer to stare at it in disbelief. Probably before I developed any symptoms. Just as soon as I accepted there was a baby, the baby was gone. But my body didn't know that yet. Oh, no, my body didn't get the message so I stayed pregnant an extra six or so weeks; feeling sick and exhausted, feeling my tummy round out, even imaging I felt the earliest flutters of a baby's acrobatics.
There are things to be thankful for, always. I am glad the baby's tiny (so tiny!) body wasn't lost; we were able to give the child a proper burial and a name: Francis. I am glad my body needed only a gentle nudge to let the pregnancy go naturally at home and avoid surgery. I am so thankful for the support of my wonderful husband, and grateful for my children. Finally, I am thankful that although I missed the chance to bring this baby into the world, my husband and I were able to usher a new soul into heaven. I really believe that is my most important job as a mother; to receive the children God blesses me with and to return them to Him (in His time) with gratitude and awe, as well as sorrow.
So, I am doing okay, just sad. Soon I will be back to running, training for races and writing up glowing race reports in no time.