It was a Girl, and her Name was Ellenor

Some thing happened yesterday.  Something that I have zero doubt will stick with me forever.  Something that was awful and traumatic and scary and beautiful.  At the time I had no idea that it is to be expected sometimes with miscarriages.  At the time it was the most painful thing I have ever emotionally experienced.  Now, I am starting to see it differently.  Again, maybe some TMI in here for some people, but again this is for me, and you really cannot be surprised that I hide nothing by now!  Yesterday while Bob and my little lady were sleeping, I passed the baby.  Whole; intact and it was larger than I anticipated it being.  Well, I guess I thought it would all just come out in pieces of tissue for some reason.  It did not.  Those few moments were 100% fueled by a deep despair I have never in my life experienced.  It was best described by the writer at LeBelle Dame:

"If you are several weeks pregnant you may pass grayish tissue that is placental or fetal tissue. What many women experience when they have a miscarriage, and what I have experienced is that at the end of your miscarriage you will pass the placenta, gestational sac, and your baby at once. Many mothers in their complete and utter shock that this has occurred (many times this happens while on the toilet) end up flushing the sac and feeling an intense feeling or panic, shock, guilt and despair. If this has happened to you, please know that it has happened to many, many women as well, and that you did the best that you could given the state that you were in.  If your body is threatening to have a miscarriage now, I am letting you know this so that you will know what you want to do if this happens to you. If you pass the gestational sac you do not need to feel morbid, guilty or strange to want to open it and see your baby. These are completely normal and natural feelings for a mother to have, and seeing your little one may actually help you to gain some closure."

I found that after the fact when I told my sister in law and another friend "I held it!  I had to.  Is that weird?  Was that wrong?  Oh my heart hurts so bad!"  It helped me immensely to know that the loss of cognitive decisions at the moment and my desire to hold my baby were actually incredibly common and very normal.  It was the size of my palm, and had a head, a body and it was no doubt my tiny human. 

I had somewhere to be shortly after this all happened and quickly got A, and got in the van and took care of my errand quick.  As I was driving over the Bong Bridge, over the water and back to Duluth the magnitude of what just happened hit me and the tears just started to pour!  I literally have no words to describe the dark sadness that came over me.  As I cried out to The Lord, begging Him to be with me I knew I needed to do a few things for me.  I immediately turned on the radio and the first thing I heard was "When confusion's my companion, and despair holds me for ransom, I will feel no fear, for I know that You are near!"  Of course it was total comfort but the tears were so heavy at this point that I could no longer safely drive and surely I couldn't go to the grocery store looking like this hot mess!  I pulled over into the parking lot of Coppertop Church and parked so that I could overlook the harbor.  If you're not from Duluth, this is literally the view:

A was sleeping in her seat and I sat there listening to this song:

 

 

It deeply resonated with me:  "My help comes from You, You're right here, pulling me through, You carry my weakness, my sickness, my brokenness all on Your shoulders!"  "You mend what once was shattered."  As I stood overlooking the harbor, tears rolling down my face and hearing the words "My help is from You.  Don't have to see it to believe it.  My help is from you," I knew it was true, and I knew that it was over.  I knew that my angel was with Him and my sweet Lynn would hold her grandchild for me until we meet again. 

 

Even before this happened Bob and I thought I was having a girl.  Then, both my mom and my dad have referenced the baby being a girl without us ever talking about it.  After holding the baby I could no longer call it "it."  It was clearly a baby, I saw it with my own eyes and held it just like I did her sister 10 months prior.  It was a girl, and her name was Ellenor.  Ellenor Rose, Ellenor Grace...we're not sure, but having a name and having that closure as hard as it was has helped me. 

 

Yesterday I spent the great majority of the night in bed.  As soon as I put A to sleep at 1930 I climbed into bed and pulled the covers over my head and cried.  I felt almost exactly like I did the night after Lynn's funeral.  Like it was all over, but I was still there, but without a huge piece of me.  I cried, texted with friends and the hubby and passed out hard.  This morning I woke up anew.  I was excited to hear my peanut cry this morning to wake up, we made breakfast, turned on worship music and sang and clapped along.  I opened up all the curtains and let the fresh air in.  I know I will still have hard days ahead of me, and I wouldn't wish this on anyone, but I know I am better for it, and I know He will carry me through.  "And You turn my tears to laughter, Your forgiveness is my fortress, Oh Your mercy is relentless!"