by Katie Hein
There I was…just me.
My body was finally all mine.
Oh, how I yearned to have a flat stomach.
I longed to be long and lean.
So many earthly indulgences stole my attention.
Time spent daydreaming with the love of my life.
Sipping on a spicy cabernet and eating a 70% dark chocolate.
I love these times, these seasons of life where I am just me.
They seem to be so fleeting as a mother of three.
But to be called.
To be called for so much more.
To be open to life.
Open to more love in my life.
Openness to God’s most perfect will.
My yearning changed to becoming a temple.
A home to hold a precious gift sent from above.
Celebrating our unity.
Our sacramental love.
Consummating us in a marital embrace.
Our love so deep,
So beautiful it can create a whole new being.
My love and I pray for blessing.
My will was not Your perfect will, Dear Lord.
I am still just me.
I wait, again praying that my body is suitable.
Suitable to cradle that with come forth from this sacramental love.
The day comes.
It is early in the morning.
I wait to see that faint pink line.
There it is!
We have been blessed.
Two weeks have passed since God breathed your soul into being.
Miraculous.
You were with me.
I didn’t even know we were us yet.
I was no longer just me.
Hugs, kisses and celebration!
This tiny little life that we didn’t even feel or see.
How mysterious this life giving power is.
How strong a love.
But it is our secret, my love’s and mine.
Waiting again…
Waiting to tell the world of our internal joy.
I smile without knowing it.
There is a sway in my step as I think of you.
I share my body.
I share my soul.
I don’t even know you yet.
But I do know I am no longer just me.
We celebrate! Finally!
We celebreate the life which God created.
We share the joyous of you
First with your sisters and brother.
There are cupcakes! All different kinds.
It’s like a pre-birthday party for you!
They loved your then…
Before they knew you.
But I knew you because I was no longer just me.
Oh the family you have!
Grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins!
They all cheered to hear of your life.
They already loved tiny little you!
There were times when celebrating was heard.
My stomach was in knots.
Food sounded like a curse.
Sleep seemed my only friend.
But it is all worth it.
Because we are together.
Someday I will forget any suffering.
You were worth every minute of nausea and fatigue.
Doctor says I get to see you.
Eight weeks old.
That black and white screen shown your tiny jelly bean body.
I heard your fast soft heartbeat.
You were there!
I see you!
I never had that before…so young you are.
Small, they said. But only by 3 days.
A tiny bleed in our connection, they said.
It happens all the time.
Nothing to worry about because we are strong together.
Life went on.
I treasure your picture.
I daydream about my growing belly
And your kicking feet.
And hiccups.
I want so desperately to feel this life inside me.
Because I know I am no longer just me.
The queasiness eases.
The energy slowly returns.
But it is early.
To early to feel better.
But I trust you are with me.
I sense you are with me.
Holy week is here.
A long Lenten season of waiting.
We focus now on the suffering of our Lord.
The pain he must have felt for me.
For us.
He yearned to be joined with us someday in Heaven.
He truly love us!
But we wait.
We eat the precious gift of His body, drink His holy blood.
We kiss his cross and wait by his tomb.
Finally! Easter morning is here.
Long Lenten days melt away.
Jesus Christ is risen today!
So much celebration and happiness on this day.
We will be with Him in Heaven!
Alleluia!
The Angels are singing.
One voice is singing louder.
I hear it above the others that day.
But it is forgotten amount the candy and eggs.
Pink line…this time not a test.
A small pink line of blood.
A small bleed, they said, in our connection.
It could shed they said.
I hold onto hope that Easter day.
The party continues.
Jesus Christ is Risen!
Alleluia!
Good food, happy kids, and
Friends so close you should just call them family.
They are my comfort that day.
I pray for hope.
But the music fades.
Laughter disappears.
Goodbyes are said.
Prayers of forgiveness and thanks before your siblings close there eyes.
A beautiful Easter day.
Sun shining.
Breeze blowing, perfectly.
Time for my to rest my anxious, yet hopeful heart.
No longer pink, but red.
Fear grips me.
I share my scary new with your Father, little one.
It was small bleed in our connection.
It will be better in the morning.
I feel….lonely.
Long night…
The red river flows
And my heat weighs so, so , so heavy
As the longest night of my life passes by.
2am. I must hold onto hope.
I call the clinic.
I know it does no good to rush…to worry.
So I wait.
I will see you on that screen in the morning.
The morning seems so far away.
I drive stone faced and trembling.
Wanting so badly to hear that fast little thump.
The drive in lonely…but I am not alone.
Wait…wait…wait…
Call to the room…
Wait…
Yes, my cervix…my uterus.
Yes, there you are!
You have not grown, she says.
No by a day.
Waiting…perhaps we got things wrong.
Maybe the timing was wrong.
“I’m sorry” she says.
“I’m sorry” echoes in my ears.
I wait…
For there is a process.
Days, weeks until it is done.
Follow-ups and “it’s not your faults”
Phone rings. I tell your father…
He tells me later that in the moment he fell apart.
Your father loves you so much!
But your Heavenly Father loves you more.
Enough to take you away from me.
So much that he wanted you to hear His angels sing that Easter morning.
That voice….above all the others… “Alleluia.”
Memories fade so quickly in the grief.
Tears flow like water those days.
Blood and water…
For this was not my will.
We were us! Not just me.
I struggle to be just me again.
For we were so much more.
I pray without ceasing.
For I know my will is not His…
But, I cannot let go.
Your sister and brother need me.
I must be strong.
Days go by, tears are shed, but I stay strong.
This is Easter week.
We buy you a beautiful statue!
It will ensure you are never forgotten.
A small child sitting happily on an angels lap.
It give comfort…but I’m not sure how.
My body begins to heal.
But I am suffering.
Not because my body aches and bleeds for you.
But because I am not ready to be just me.
Days turn normal.
I am not ready for normal.
Just me.
Life keeps going for everyone else.
I mourn in my lonliness.
I continue to cry,
Even though I know you are happy.
So graciously happy!
Sunday again.
Divine Mercy Sunday.
He love us so much!
Jesus Christ pours out blood and water.
Showers us with Mercy!
Mercy.
A love so strong that it seeks the lost sheep.
Comforts us in our biggest struggle.
And forgives the greatest sin.
And He Showers us in it!
But for me…it’s just another Sunday.
“Peace be with you,” resounds in my heart.
“This is my body given up for you.”
I know what is means to give my body.
“This is my blood, poured out.”
Jesus, I hear you in this. And I do trust in You.
Please give me the strength I need to get through his.
Enter my body.
My heart.
Let my will be one with Yours.
“Come to the Feast of Heaven and Earth.”
My church family sings.
“Alleluia” sounds above it all
I know that voice!
“She is here, at the feast with Me”
“for I AM.”
The feast of Heaven and Earth!
Heaven joins to Earth in this one moment.
I sense her, she is here.
I am not alone.
“God will provide for all that you need, here at the table of plenty”
In this place, this Heavenly Feast, we are us again.
We are joined together in the body of Christ.
Here, in this place, I am not just me.