I'm Ready To Tell You About Jellybean

This is our family photo. C, me and our Jellybean.

This was taken on May 10 before we left the house to vote. We were very excited to vote. Very serious about it, wearing white (that's what you should've worn to signify that after all the election color wars, that day was for the country, regardless of the color you supported), folded sample ballot in pocket, umbrella and an ice pack for me to keep cool.

The lines to vote were very long. Our first automated elections and the election officers and the voters were still getting a hang of the new system.

If I recall correctly, it took me less than 30 minutes to vote.

Here I am outside the precinct, excited and happy to have used my pregnant woman pass.

Wearing a dress that would pass for a maternity dress, for emphasis. I even had my ultrasound report in my bag, in case they needed proof I was pregnant.

On May 15 we went for another ultrasound and saw Jellybean for the very first time. I was 7 weeks and 2 days. We cried.

C and I should've had a picture here together. Us three.

Here's C at the hospital cafeteria where we got a snack while waiting for the ultrasound printout.

We kept on tearing up as we looked at the video he took of Jellybean and her very strong heartbeat. 171bpm. Next to getting married to C, that moment when we saw Jellybean was the happiest in my life.

We found out we were pregnant on April 17 at 8:15 am.

We loved her and the thought of her. We talked to her many many many times during the day. I quit coffee. And chocolates. I switched to C's side of the bed so I could sleep on my left side. We sang to her. Wrote to her. We made a blog so we could write to her everyday. I used a special Van Gogh notebook that Gina bought for me from Paris to jot down letters to Jellybean when I was away from the computer (I almost never use a notebook unless I had a second piece to just keep for my collection) Ginger (our labrador) knew I was pregnant. She followed me around and almost never left my side. We loved Jellybean. So much.

But we lost her. On May 26 I went for an ultrasound because I thought I was bleeding. Only to find out that Jellybean had gone to heaven. Just two days after we saw her.

I am amazed that I haven't cried while writing this. I thought of what to say here as I was driving home from buying groceries. I felt weepy in the car. But now there are no more tears.

I keep thinking what I would be now if I didn't believe in heaven. What I'd be now if I didn't know Jesus. What I'd be now if I wasn't sure of heaven. What I'd be now if I wasn't sure that Jellybean is in heaven and that someday I will see her and hold her and hug her and tell her personally how much I love her. Okay that makes me cry. I know she knows we love her. We told her several times. And I've prayed many many many times to Jesus to tell her we love her and we would've wanted to see her and have her here. That is my only wish.

I have no regrets. I have no more bitterness. I was angry. Very very very angry. At our old doctor. At myself. At God. For several days. Weeks.

But I know God can take my anger. My disappointment. He never changes. His love and goodness and lovingkindness don't change. I know this. I am sure of this.

We miss Jellybean. We think about her often. We talk about her often.

Somewhere in those dark days, God made me realize that I had to move on and be happy. That I had to learn again to hope and be fearless. We owe this to the baby we will have again. We can't be detached. We can't be afraid. We have to learn to hope again and laugh again and have some innocence again for the next pregnancy. We owe it Jellybean and her sibling/s.

During those dark days I thought I wouldn't make it through. But God saw me through. I guess that's what I want to tell you.

And I wanted to tell you too about Jellybean. She was a good kid, our first baby.


Anonymous said...

I still miss Jellybean. I look forward to seeing her (or him) someday. Heaven just got a little more wonderful. Grand grand reunion.

- C

Sheila Armstrong said...

It helps to write it down, dont you think? I hope you continue to heal, but healing won't mean you've forgotten her.

makescoffeenervous said...

hi sheila! yes, it helps to write it down. it also helped a great deal that i spent maybe two whole weeks just crying it out.

God is gracious and He heals our broken hearts.

we still miss her terribly. but we've accepted that we'll have to wait a little bit more before we can see and hold her.

Susan said...

I found your blog today, by accident - and just read this beautiful post. God bless you and your family. Jellybean is lucky to have you as a mother. Sending this from Zurich, Switzerland.

makescoffeenervous said...

Hi, Susan! Thank you for visiting and for your kind words.

Nice to know someone from so far away read this and liked it. :) God bless you too!