Happy Greek Easter!
We've been so busy. Three is busy.
Check it out:
Someone got a fancy dress. She wore it to church.
And egg hunting.
I'm not sure this dress has enough skirt. C thinks it is perfect and she was a pretty pink princess.
Now is when I switch things up and give you a hint of TMI. Sorry.
Four years ago, I had a positive pregnancy test the Saturday before Palm Sunday. And on Palm Sunday I started to bleed. It was a chemical pregnancy. It was so early, I hadn't told anyone other than my husband. It had taken us five years of trying to see those two lines, and then they were gone. It was devastating. For me, Easter didn't come that year. I never felt the joy. I never felt the Resurrection. It was like being stuck on Good Friday. Being stuck in the Passion narrative.
Because it was so early, I had a hard time feeling justified in my grief. I mean, it was so early. But, I did grieve. And, honestly, I still sort of do, which is silly, because we were able to get pregnant a few cycles later and that pregnancy gave us C. If that other pregnancy had gone through, I wouldn't have C, and I don't even want to imagine what my life would be like without her. Still, every year, Holy Week comes and I remember that other...that brief moment...and the grief that I felt and I hid and I never shared with anyone except my husband who maybe didn't understand but tried so hard to make me happy again.
This year on Good Friday I took a pregnancy test. I don't really know why...it was the day my period was slated to start but it hadn't. And there were two lines. The second one was faint, but it was there. And when I tested a few days later, it was still there. And I had a truly joyful Easter. A sort of resurrection. A partial healing, or at least a balm on some old wounds.
I know you're not supposed to announce a pregnancy so early. I'm five weeks. Things could go south. Or not. No one knows right now. And no one will know. But what I learned four years ago was that if I couldn't share my joys, I couldn't share my sorrows. I had to hold them all to myself. And it's hard--it's hard to do both. So, I share my joy with you today. In mid-December we should be a family of four. It's taken us two years of trying to get here. I had pretty much given up hope that it would happen. But this year we were granted an Easter Miracle. Something that has brought our family as much joy as that poofy pink dress brought my three year old on Easter morning.
We've been so busy. Three is busy.
Check it out:
Someone got a fancy dress. She wore it to church.
And egg hunting.
I'm not sure this dress has enough skirt. C thinks it is perfect and she was a pretty pink princess.
Now is when I switch things up and give you a hint of TMI. Sorry.
Four years ago, I had a positive pregnancy test the Saturday before Palm Sunday. And on Palm Sunday I started to bleed. It was a chemical pregnancy. It was so early, I hadn't told anyone other than my husband. It had taken us five years of trying to see those two lines, and then they were gone. It was devastating. For me, Easter didn't come that year. I never felt the joy. I never felt the Resurrection. It was like being stuck on Good Friday. Being stuck in the Passion narrative.
Because it was so early, I had a hard time feeling justified in my grief. I mean, it was so early. But, I did grieve. And, honestly, I still sort of do, which is silly, because we were able to get pregnant a few cycles later and that pregnancy gave us C. If that other pregnancy had gone through, I wouldn't have C, and I don't even want to imagine what my life would be like without her. Still, every year, Holy Week comes and I remember that other...that brief moment...and the grief that I felt and I hid and I never shared with anyone except my husband who maybe didn't understand but tried so hard to make me happy again.
This year on Good Friday I took a pregnancy test. I don't really know why...it was the day my period was slated to start but it hadn't. And there were two lines. The second one was faint, but it was there. And when I tested a few days later, it was still there. And I had a truly joyful Easter. A sort of resurrection. A partial healing, or at least a balm on some old wounds.
I know you're not supposed to announce a pregnancy so early. I'm five weeks. Things could go south. Or not. No one knows right now. And no one will know. But what I learned four years ago was that if I couldn't share my joys, I couldn't share my sorrows. I had to hold them all to myself. And it's hard--it's hard to do both. So, I share my joy with you today. In mid-December we should be a family of four. It's taken us two years of trying to get here. I had pretty much given up hope that it would happen. But this year we were granted an Easter Miracle. Something that has brought our family as much joy as that poofy pink dress brought my three year old on Easter morning.
- 6:37 PM
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