Monday, March 25, 2013

The luckiest of the unlucky.

I know I am the luckiest of the unlucky.
I  have 3 sons breathing the same room air I am breathing.
I have been entrusted by God to raise Little J as well as I can.
I am hopefully expecting a rainbow baby any time now.
I am blesssed beyond measure at the children that share my life (and I greedily want more).
I have not thrown my relationship with Jesus out the window.
I have not let the voices of the few incredibly awful people in my life override the many wonderful ones.
I have held onto laughter in the midst of my pain.
I have a friend who mentions Eva`s name almost every time we are together. Who mentions her name first, without me having to bring it up.

I am the luckiest of the unlucky.
Eva died when I was young enough to bear more children (there is no replacing but there is healing, so I've heard).
As a couple, my husband and I have struggled through the darkest time any parent should have to endure without tearing each other apart through sorrow and anger.
We have been able to reverse a permanent decision that would have made Eva our youngest child.
We were so lucky to be able to conceive.
I have carried this baby to term and, so far, he (likely) is still alive.
I am truly the luckiest of the unlucky.

And still my heart aches and grieves. My heart does not feel lucky. I feel so incredibly unlucky. So broken and so despairing. Even in the midst of my luck.

I was at the library today and overheard some moms talking about how people they knew had had a baby girl after 3 or 4 boys. They were sure enjoying the colour pink in their home. It stabbed me in the heart as I turned away and carefully chose some books for my children. 

I remembered how incredibly lucky I felt when Eva was born. I was so lucky to finally have a girl. So lucky. The desire of my heart, a girl, after 3 boys. I remembered how exciting it was to dress her in pink. To have pink sheets and a pink change table cover. Pink, pink, pink. And then that pink was stolen from me and I feel so unlucky. So unlucky to be packing up her pink when others are rejoicing in the pink of their own little girls. So unlucky but still the luckiest of the unlucky. 

And I feel mean and trite to write this out when so many are suffering the loss of an only child. The loss of multiple babies in the womb. The loss of multiple children. The loss of a functioning womb. The loss of fertility. So many losses and I just sit here, the luckiest of the unlucky, and still so very, very unlucky.


  1. I've nominated you for the Liebster Award! To accept your nomination:

    1. Thank you Staci. However I don't feel like I can pass it on so I will pass on accepting the nomination. Please feel welcome to nominate someone else in my stead.

  2. Oh Em. I've always felt that way too because I shouldn't have had kept either of my twins and it was a total long shot that J would survive. The luckiest of the unlucky indeed.

    It isn't mean and it isn't trite. My heart aches for you, overhearing that conversation. I felt so incredibly lucky, to have two babies, two girls, double pink everything! And then I felt so unlucky to have them so early and to lose G and so, so lucky to keep my precious J. The two states aren't mutually exclusive, you can be both at once. And that is quite a conundrum to live around I find?

    We can all only experience our own lives and grieve for our own losses. Even if we had all the luck in the world before, and all the luck in the world subsequently, it could never compensate. Thinking of you and your boys and your dear girl xo

    1. Thank you Catherine,
      Yes, the two states aren't mutually exclusive and yes it is quite a conundrum. Thank you for this comment and for truly understanding being the luckiest of the unlucky.
      Hugs to you dear.