Dear God, I would have loved to have held her on my lap and told her about You, but since I didn’t get the chance, would You please hold her on Your lap and tell her about me?

“Is this your first?” Through clenched teeth, “yes he’s my first”. I’m a first time mum…with first time jitters. First time anxieties. First time quirks. First time stubbornness. First time over-‘preparedness’. First time baby-paraphernalia hyper-overload. First time ‘deer in headlights’. I’m an obvious first-timer.

It’s a time of many firsts. A time of intrigue and wonder… and it’s a time for that commonly asked question by new friends, acquaintances and strangers; “Is he your first?”. You think I’d be over it by now, but every time I’m faced with that apparent simple question, I’m taken straight back to her. I take a deep breath and through my clenched jaw and winded stomach; “yes, he’s my first.”

He’s my first, but he’s not the first to hold my hand.

2012

2013

I’ve come to understand that everyone deals with loss differently. Some deal with it by embracing their new circumstance. They throw themselves into the cause; join the balls and knitting clubs. It’s wonderful. We need those strong, admirable women who want to have their babies remembered. Who want to make others experiences less lonely… and then there’s me. I still don’t like to hear her name. The term ‘angel baby’ and ‘rainbow baby’ makes me cringe. I don’t want to join a club. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to compare notes. The sentiment that she’s still mine doesn’t bring me any peace. Her memory has been reduced to a box. I don’t want to ever look at her photos (note: this is the first time I’ve ever shared this photo. It still makes me feel ill to my stomach when I see it. At least I’m making progress, right?) I’m not a mother of two, like others have told me. It may sound heartless, but I just want to pretend it never happened. It’s all I’ve got energy for. I’m not compelled to help anyone. My answer will continue to be “I’m fine”. So far, my tactic isn’t working. I’m just as broken holding my new Little One as I was just over a year ago, but at least now I have a sleep-depriving distraction.

Regardless, I’ll continue to rehearse and verse the guilt-laced response; ‘He’s my first’. I’m bound to be asked for a good while to come.

“His Grace is sufficient for me for His power is made perfect in my weakness.” – 2 Corinthians 12:9