Easter 2011: His Name is Mark

Easter Lily, a photo by **Mary** on Flickr

I cried when I got the news.  I wasn’t ready for another baby.  I wasn’t ready to add another washing machine to the spin cycle of my life with three other little ones.  After taking the pregnancy test, I wept bitterly and told God that I wasn’t ready for this one.  It was the first time I was not happy about the little blessing growing inside of me.

My world was turned upside down in an instant.  It took about two weeks for the shock to wear off, and in usual tradition, we would tell NO ONE until after the first trimester.  Then, I began to embrace the news.  Yes, I’d have to start all over again with sleepless nights and spit up and diapers.  But, there would be four!  God saw fit to bless me, so I rejoiced in the blessing.  Yes, I was a bit worried that four might be my breaking point, but God knew what He was doing.  My little pumpkin was due November 4^th, a perfect accompaniment for the “biscuit’, my youngest boy.  I was floored that I’d be the mother of four.  I’m pretty sure that he was a boy, but I won’t know for sure until I get to meet him in heaven.

After 11 weeks, I got more devastating news.  Baby was only the size of a 6 week old.  He had not grown for 5 weeks.  It made perfect sense now.  During my pregnancy, I struggled to eat. (Those of you that know me know I love food!) While I didn’t get “morning sickness”, I felt a queasy uneasiness for weeks at a time. 

Did I feel a sense of relief, knowing that I wouldn’t have to start all over again? Not in a million years.  I loved this baby and grieved that I would not be able to see him or get to know him.  It was only 11 weeks, but in that time, I turned my wants and desires to God.  With prayer, I got excited about baby.  Meanwhile, hubby and I talked about long-standing unresolved issues.  We started a new page of dialog in a relationship that had gone dusty and dry with neglect.

A post that really helped me deal with my loss is here.  It’s a bit graphic, but knowing that I was going to go through a miscarriage before it actually happened, I wanted details.  I wanted to know what to expect and the writer’s experience was touching and moving.

 

Thankfully, I was also able to say goodbye in the privacy of home.  As I “birthed” the baby that was not to be, I named him, said goodbye, and thanked God for the precious gift He gave me.  April 20^th, 2011 at 1:55pm is my commemoration, and I decided to name him Mark.  The name is fitting because he left quite an impression on me in his short life.  His name is only one syllable, a break in the usual two-syllable convention I’ve preferred for naming my kids.  Like his short name, Mark’s brief life served a purpose.

I realize even more poignantly what a miraculous gift my three beautiful, healthy children really are.  I envision that as my husband and I made an appointment to see a counselor early in my pregnancy, God called Mark home, telling him that his work here was done. 

Hubby and I are both saddened by the news.  But a spark has started.  A seed has been planted that will allow us to grow and communicate better with each other.  In Mark’s place, our relationship is undergoing a resurrection.  Just as in the Easter Story, I rejoice because while Jesus died, He rose again.  That is the hope that transcends death.