A Tragic Afternoon...

My Lil' Pnut is a mover and a shaker.

I have been lightly complaining about this for the past couple weeks.

That all changed today when my friend called to tell me that her baby boy who was due today had died. I had been talking to her all morning and we had chatted on the phone as she waited to see her midwife. I thought she was calling to tell me how her appointment went. In a way, she was. Only the news was brief, to the point, shocking, and completely devastating.

It took me several moments to process what exactly I had been told and what it meant.

We had both conceived at the same time this past Summer. We were both due this week.

She told everyone the news when we were 8 weeks along. I kept the news to myself.

I miscarried soon after and was grateful that I had waited to share. I was throwing a baby shower and starting our MOPS year and did not want my miscarriage to overshadow these events for my friends. Our due dates were, originally, just days apart.

Then I became pregnant again. We have been enjoying our experience together. We are both older moms. Both our husbands have weird work hours leaving us to dine together many evenings in desperation of adult company. We both have little boys to care for while baking the new batch. Together we are leading our MOPS group. We live very close to each other and watch each others kiddos. It has just been a blast to have someone to share this pregnancy experience with!

Now it is up to me to support my friend by sharing the news and fielding the questions and concern. This is hard, but something she knew I could handle when she asked me.

I am honored that she asked.

I have spent the evening grieving for my friend and her loss.

My joy will now become her pain.

I want to do something for her and her family, but am lost.

All I can do is grieve and pray. And pray some more.

For both of us.

No more complaining for me.

Every bump, jostle, and somersault will be appreciated.