the day the world stopped

One year ago today.

Just the week before, I'd bought my first maternity clothes.  I was barely showing, but you could definitely tell.  I couldn't get over looking down and seeing the proof that someone was growing in there!

We were so excited to go to our 12 week appointment.  We couldn't wait to see our sweet baby again, hear that precious heartbeat, see how he or she had grown since the month before.  So giddy.  So much anticipation.  So.  Very.  Happy.

I didn't mind the cold goo on my tummy.  I didn't mind when the doctor accidentally got some on the stretchy part of the maternity pants that I'd carefully folded down.  

Rich stood beside me, videoing the monitor as we saw our baby pop up on it.  I said, "There you are!" as the happy tears came.  Our sweet, sweet baby.  

I waited for the doctor to say something.  Anything.  An eternity passed and still, he said nothing.  And I knew.  He didn't have to say it.  And I didn't want him to.  But he did.

"Mrs. Koch, I'm sorry.  There's no heartbeat."  And just like that, our world crashed.  The whole thing.  

I looked at Rich, he looked at me, and immediately I wondered what I'd done wrong. I didn't know that so many emotions could overtake a person at once.  Terror.  Panic.  Guilt. Anger.  As we left the doctor's office, I remember hearing someone laugh and I was overcome with such anger toward them.  We crossed the street outside and there were people walking, people driving, and I was angry at them too.  Why didn't they know that the world had just stopped spinning?  

It didn't take long for the bitterness to set in.  Bitterness and guilt.  I went over everything a million times in my head.  Was it because I kept accidentally sleeping on my stomach?  I didn't mean to sleep on my stomach but I always seem to wake up that way. Was it because of that heavy bag of groceries that I'd carried up the stairs that one time? It didn't feel all that heavy at the time.  Was it because of that one night I threw up the prenatal vitamin I'd just taken?  I never forgot them but I didn't take another one that night.  Was it because I stopped drinking the orange juice the doctor wanted me to drink?  I hate orange juice, but the grape juice I replaced it with had vitamin C too.

I was bitter when I saw other women with their healthy babies.  I was bitter at all the happy "We're expecting!" Facebook announcements.  I was bitter when pregnant friends would complain about their sore backs, their lack of sleep, their discomfort of carrying.  

One year later--a lot of emotions, a lot of long talks, a lot of soul searching, a lot of praying, a lot of sadness--and I don't blame myself anymore.  There will always be the question in my heart of what happened.  But I put my trust in God.  The bitterness has faded a lot and I'm no longer angry.

Our Starchild is buried in the Sudfriedhof of Wiesbaden, the same cemetery where the
Red Baron is laid to rest.  Having a place to visit has helped so much.

I'm not sure if it will ever go away, but I still feel a twinge of something when I hear the news that someone else is pregnant.  It's not anger.  A little jealousy and envy mixed together maybe, and yet I'm so happy for them.  The best part is getting to cuddle our friends' babies and whisper to them what a miracle they truly are!  

I was asked just a couple of weeks after we lost the baby if I was finished grieving.  The short answer at the time:  no.  The answer now:  no.  And while I'm on this, please don't ever ask that question of anyone who's suffered a miscarriage.

I will always grieve the loss of our child.  There will never be a time that I am finished.

To each of you who was there for us during that awful time, thank you.  To each of you who has held me as I've cried since, thank you.  To our family and friends who continue to encourage and support us, thank you.  To the kind German lady in the hospital waiting area who hugged me, cried with me, gave me her pack of tissues, and cradled my head against hers even though she didn't speak a word of English, thank you.  

Our time will come.  I have faith that my God hears me.  I will not lose hope that there will be a day that we, too, will welcome a child into this world.  Our Rainbow Baby will come.  One year later, and I can honestly say that we're okay.  

Dear Sweet Baby,

You made me a Mommy, and I was so overcome with happiness to carry you.  Daddy loved to talk to you and make funny noises for you.  You made me eat lots of pickles, and salad, and fries, and Tums.  You didn't like pork, which I found funny since you were with us here in the land of schweineschnitzel! 

Thank you for only making me throw up that one time!  Please know I would have gladly done it a hundred more times just to have a little more time with you.  

I will forever wonder who you would have been.  What you would have looked like.  What your favorite foods would have been.  Your first word.  Your best friend.  Your quirks. Your sense of humor.  I bet you would have been smart and funny like Daddy.  And I bet you would have had a Southern twang like Mommy.

I only carried you in my tummy for 12 weeks, Sweet Baby, but we will carry you in our hearts for a lifetime.  You will always be our first child.  You are our Sternenkind.

Love,
Mommy

spring in germany

Guten tag, friends!  I've been MIA for a while, I know.  I haven't had the writing bug in quite some time, and unfortunately I've let our blog fall to the wayside.  Winters here are hard on me--not for the cold but for the lack of sunshine--but with all these sunny days lately I've been needing to write.  So here I am.  I hope yall can forgive me and join me here again in this familiar place that I love.  

Rich has spent a lot of time on work trips over the last few weeks.  I like that he gets to see new places on some of them, and I am also a bit jealous that he's seen countries that I haven't yet been to!  He's also been taking college classes through the University of Nebraska-Omaha since September.  Because of these two things, we haven't traveled together much in a while.  

Spring has really sprung in Germany and that means many things to those of us that call it our (temporary) home!  It means sneezing, slightly warmer weather with some blue skies, and beautiful scenery full of promise and bloom.

The beautiful, sunny days are my favorite thing.  Everything just looks happier.  My friend, Nicole, and I spent an afternoon this past week soaking in some sunshine with our cameras.  I love that she and I are both creative people who share a love of photography!  

I've been wanting to stop off at one of the many nearby rapeseed fields and get up close and personal with those bright yellow blooms that dominate the German landscape during the warmer months.  Rapeseed is used to make cooking oil and biodiesel fuel, and besides Germany it is also grown in China, Canada, India, and other European countries.

Finally, I got my chance to check it out, but it was a very windy and coldddd day.  I wasn't sure how these shots would turn out, but I was pleasantly surprised when I took a look.  

Later in the afternoon, I stopped by a local tulip field and spent some time in those muddy rows.  You can borrow one of the provided knives and cut your own tulips, then drop 0,45€ per flower into the lockbox on the honor system.  I love having fresh tulips around the house!

On this particular day, though--April 26--I only cut one white tulip because I had one more stop to make before heading home.  It was that day that marked a year since Rich and I found out we were expecting, and so I paid a visit to the Sudfriedhof where our little one is laid to rest.

To be honest, I was wary about going to the cemetery alone.  But this visit was different than all the ones before.  As I sat talking to our baby while the sunbeams moved lower through the trees, I was filled with peace and calm.  I know I will always grieve this child, but I'm beginning to feel myself healing.  I grabbed my camera and hung out a while longer in the Sternengarten...

Such a beautiful world we live in.

I hope you've enjoyed these photos!  Thank you for reading and spending a little time with us today.  I promise not to let so much time pass before we meet again!