bittersweet

I've had this blog post in my heart for days, but I haven't wanted to write it.  I'll just go ahead and tell you...  it's very sad.  But it has a bitter-sweet happy ending.  So grab your box of kleenex, and read on.

...

I'll start with the good news.  My brother's wife gave birth to a beautiful baby girl last Monday evening.  She came into this world weighing 7 pounds, 7 ounces, and measuring 18.5 inches long.  Her head is perfectly round.  Her cheeks are perfectly rosy.  She has 10 little fingers and 10 little toes.  She's perfect.

I am so happy for my brother and his wife.  But the birth of this baby has not come without much sadness in my heart.

Not for the reason you are probably thinking.

I am no longer craving baby #3.  It turns out a 14-hour road trip with a two-year-old, soon followed by a few sleepless nights in a hotel room with a five-month-old will cure you of that desire.  It's funny how quickly we forget how tiring those early years can be.  At 35 years old, I've finally found myself satisfied with my family of four.

So why am I sad?

I have a couple friends.  I call them my friends; but the truth is I haven't seen them in years.

We were in MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) together.  But then our MOPS group disassembled, and so what brought us together in the first place was no longer there.

Still, they remain very close friends with each other, living just seconds apart, sharing occasional playdates and coffee dates.  I keep up with them and their goings-on via Facebook and via their blogs.

They each have four children.  And they both announced earlier this year that each of their families would be welcoming a fifth child.

That is why I am sad.

Their fifth children are no longer.

One friend gave birth in May, much too early, to a precious, tiny little boy.  She said hello and good-bye to him in the same moment.  His name was Joel.

My other friend was told in July that her baby carried some type of rare chromosomal disorder.  She spent the last three months growing a daughter that she knew would most likely not live long after birth.  That baby girl took her first breath 10 days ago.  She also took her last breath 10 days ago.  Her name was Elliana.

"Sad" just doesn't begin to describe the circumstances.  It's gut-wrenching.

I'm ashamed to say that I haven't sent my condolences to either mom yet.

I've read each of their blog posts, documenting every hope, every sadness, every smile, and every tear.  Their pain is so real, so raw and so...  I don't know how to else describe it.

What do you say to someone whose heart is so broken?

I've sat down many times to write each of them a note, only to find myself without words.  There are no words.

Even now, I don't know what to say.

...

Don't get me wrong.  I was filled with joy the moment my mom sent me the first picture announcing the arrival of my newest niece.  It's the words that were under the picture that reminded me of the sorrow-filled heart of my friend, who had lost her baby girl just two days before...

"Welcome Eliana".

Doesn't it give you chills?

What are the chances my brother and his wife would choose the same name for their baby girl?

This is the reason I've not been bragging about my newest niece on Facebook.   

I am so thankful to be welcoming this precious baby girl into my life.  But to flaunt my joy over a baby that isn't really mine while my friends are mourning the loss of children they were never able to bring home alive... 

I just can't do it.

...

I feel more comfortable posting pics here.  My blog has fewer followers than my Facebook page.  So I am hoping this announcement will not seem disrespectful or insensitive in any way.

It is with bittersweet tears of joy that I say,

Welcome to the World, Eliana Grace Boyd!