Because of this.
It seemed to be all over the place during Jubilee's birth.
When I was in labor, I was serving the boys breakfast at the table.
Million prayed "Dear God, please help Jubilee to come today. But if you need to take her to heaven, we will try to understand. She would be happy there, I know. Amen."
And then he asked why I was crying.
Following my delivery, the family med resident came in to check on Jubilee. As it turned out, it was the family med resident who was on rotation during my miscarriage last January.
The triage room that I was in was the SAME room. Again.
By categorizing these memories, in no way am I ungrateful for my healthy daughter.
And he loves babies so tenderly.
As we come in a few days to the year anniversary of losing our baby/babies, I think we're as "at peace" about it as we ever will be. I am blessed to know many older women who are extremely honest, and several of them have told me that I will likely never "get over" a miscarriage. It will always be hidden in the crevasses of my deepest core.
And I'm at peace.