Remembering August
Each path I've navigated through the valley is unique. Naturally, there are similar elements present on each trail, much like how you may pass the same types of trees on different paths within a park. But the unique composition of details along each winding route will never be identical.
I am familiar with grieving a child I carried, held and buried.
I am familiar with the slow burn of an unexpected diagnosis, decline, and death of an otherwise healthy parent.
Grieving a child I carried and loved but never held is a new experience – one we're navigating breath by breath.
Having miscarried before our anatomy scan, we didn't find out the gender. With Norah and Lora, the anatomy scan kicked off our name searches, but this time we were left with 'baby number 3'. Such a generic reference feels at odds with the overwhelming love and grief we carry. It feels wrong to label our child like a movie extra – 'ex: hotel guest number 4' – as if they were present yet not worth remembering.
Our baby's short life was not without purpose, some mistake to be hidden or forgotten; their story was handwritten by the author of the universe.
"My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed substance. In your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them." Psalm 139:15-16
So we have given our baby a name, and have decided to share it with you.
(Please know, if you have walked a similar path and not chosen a name – that's still beautiful. You did what was right for your family. This is what's right for ours.)
August Rae. We chose August to honor the month we spent together after finding out I was pregnant. (I was 8 weeks pregnant when the miscarriage was diagnosed). In keeping with the trend of our children's middle names (Norah Mae, Lora Renae) Rae was chosen as a reminder of the ray of light and hope August brought to our family.
Will we always refer to our baby as August? Maybe. Maybe there will be times where we feel that saying ‘our third baby’ honors their memory better. We’ll figure it out as we go.
As for you, our friends and family, refer to August however you feel comfortable - August, baby, etc. Simply acknowledging our experience and the life we are grieving is an incredible gift.
My mama heart needs you to know this: death was only one small part of August’s story.
August brought Monarch butterflies to our house for the first time, capturing Lora's curiosity as they danced around us and up into the trees.
August made me crave hot sauce on literally everything – eggs, mac n' cheese, tator tot hotdish… yep nothing was off limits.
August made me nauseous 24/7 from the day after I found out I was pregnant. I told Lane that it had to be a boy, because only a boy would think that's funny.
August gave me a wild and welcome burst of energy. My sporadic morning walks turned into daily morning jogs. I did yoga in the afternoons and worked on house projects into the night. While I still had occasional moments of intense exhaustion, I only fell asleep in my desk chair with my hands on my keyboard once.
August brought wonderful, tangible hope to a year defined by uncertainty.
Death happened. But that joy, that zest for life is how I want to remember August.
Well, that and the little bottle of hot sauce in my purse.
"For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother's womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works, my soul knows it very well."
Psalm 139:13-14
