I welcome the physical pain that I have now--engorgement, bruised hands, cramps. My body is healing as the days go by, and none of this has hurt as much as the emptiness, stillness, silence. Somehow the pain is proof that I really am the mother of three. That I didn't imagine this lost baby. That I am not asleep in a nightmare. That this really did happen to my family as it has to so many others.
Elliott asked me if the baby felt any pain. I told him that I didn't think so because the best place in the world to be is in mommy's belly. I hope that's true.
I would do this all over again for the 15 weeks that we had to celebrate this baby. We became a family of five, and Asher often wondered whether we were three boys and two girls or four boys and one girl. Now we are 4 plus an angel.