"While at the shower, I was happy for Sarah and felt the anticipation of her little boy's arrival, sure to be tall, smart, resourceful, capable and good looking like his parents. Another part of me, underneath, was thinking about the mother who would labor to give birth to her stillborn child that evening. It was strange to be thinking about both, and strange to live in a world that manages to contain both within its parameters. I felt strongly that if there is a God, it can only be the God of both. Shortly after September 11, 2001, I read something that I think about often - a specific phrase. Fr. Thomas Hopko was answering the question: Where was God on September 11? He said that God was in the airplane with all the people who went down; God was in the stairwell of the collapsing towers, with the people who were trying to get out. Everyone at the baby shower joined in a prayer for Sarah and her baby, so I hope that God was at the baby shower - the God who adorns the whole earth with flowers. I think that God was also in the womb with the baby whose heart stopped beating last week, the God who is crowned with thorns." - Naming the Child, Jenny Schroedel
"This is the God I believe in: one who never forgets, who never stops loving, who is not afraid to enter imploding buildings and falling planes just to be a little closer to us. God is in the delivery room, in the stairwell, in the tomb, and in the womb. God is the one who holds every memory of every child tightly, tenderly against the backdrop of eternity." - Naming the Child, Jenny Schroedel
Right now I'm having trouble grasping the reality of what has happened. It feels like something far off, cloudy, shadowy, distant. And yet I read quotes like these and the tears are right there, too ready to fall. So I know that it must be real, it must have happened, Cora must have existed, and she must have died. Some days I can almost forget about the gash inside of me...perhaps it's starting to at least stop bleeding so profusely?
I would be 37 weeks pregnant right now. Cora would practically be on our doorstep. I am so sad that I don't have her to prepare for and look forward to. I still can't bring myself to put anything away from her room - it's almost like I won't be able to until November 2 has come and gone and the reality of her loss finally hits me. Cora is never coming home. Cora will never wear these clothes. She will never sleep in this room.
I miss her so much.
