Monday, September 20, 2010

Last Fall

Last fall was an exciting time. We took a trip to Cape Cod, my mother came to visit us here in the Austrian countryside, and on October 26th, I got the positive pregnancy test I had been hoping and praying for for so long. Every day I had this grin on my face. Every night my husband and I talked about our baby. I was overwhelmed by a feeling of fulfillment; everything was falling into place. I felt so incredibly blessed. I felt my baby growing inside of me, felt the changes it was already making in my life....the only thing that tasted good was dry toast and tea, I had to take a two hour nap every afternoon, and my lower abdomen seemed to pop out one morning. 
Ramon and I marvelled at how we already felt like a father and mother. When I was in public, at the farmers market, on the bus, I thought, "No one here knows my wonderful secret!" And I would find myself smiling, thinking about the tiny heartbeat under the spot where my hand was resting on my belly. 

There are so many good things this fall, too. Our new puppy Boston, who doesn't feel new anymore, but as if he always belonged, and watching Kiki embrace him as her playmate; the big move to a brand new home; enthusiastic customers supporting my little etsy shop; the strong love and friendship I share with my husband. And autumn itself, of this morning, with it's frosty grass, blue skies, and mushroom scent. 

But there is also this hole. This hole that brings tears to my eyes and a lump in my throat, and makes me feel small and sad. On the day we lost our baby, I couldn't have known how long the pain of that day would stay with me. It's overwhelming how, in the middle of a very fine day, it will suddenly grip me, and I will feel that grief and loss so strongly. 

Here we are, nearly a year later...and I still think about how old our baby would be now (4 months), and wonder when or if we will be blessed with a baby in the future, and why it hasn't happened yet. 

Fortunately there are many distractions right now, so many things keeping me occupied. 

But there are those moments, like now, when I wish with every fiber of my being that I was holding my little one, nursing him, rocking him, watching him sleep peacefully in my arms.

xoxo country girl


  1. Your words are special, as you are, so hold those memories close and know that God will bless you with a child one day, I am sure of that!

  2. Oh, Dawn, I can feel your pain and sense of loss through your words and I cannot imagine what you are still going through! As you anxiously wait for your future to unfold and bring you another baby, I will hold you and your little family in my heart! Love, Silke

  3. ((hugs)) there are never good enough words to say to someone who has suffered that loss. just know i'm thinking of you and sending warm loving thoughts.

  4. Dear Dawn, you're often in my thoughts. Big hugs.

  5. Oh Dawn..I feel your pain and pray you will have a baby someday, when it's God's time. And I know what wonderful parents you will be:) Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers...

    xoxo Gert

  6. It's been 12 years since I went through the same loss as still hurts and tears come to my eyes whenever I hear or read of someone else who has had the same loss. I feel your sadness way over here thousands of kms away. Even after motherhood comes along and fulfills your sweet dream that memory will still be there. It was a LIFE and life is so precious. You are going to make the most beautiful mother. I hear it in your words and in the life that you portray here in your little slice of blogging. Don't depair, enjoy the wonderful things you have and keep that dream real and sweet in your dear heart.

  7. I'm so sorry Dawn. The blessing of your love will not go unused. Hugs and cups of tea...


  8. i can feel your loss all the way here...and i understand...

    i am sorry too.... this leaves me with a loss for words...but know that you are thought of often and loved my so many....

    love you too...

  9. I'm always thinking of you, especially during this particular hard time. I'm sorry for your loss Dawn. My heart aches for you.

  10. Thank you for sharing your poignant thoughts with us all… I understand completely the silent grief… all I know is that is essential to be kind to yourself and know that you are much loved. Blessings.

  11. Thank you for sharing. I have heard from many who have suffered the same loss as you that writing about it can help. Sending happy thoughts and healing to you and your family.



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