Heartache and Wonderings.

I am a thinker.  I wonder about things all the time.  When an event happens, I analyze it, I dissect it.  I look at it from this angle and that angle.  I wonder what has made things happen just this way. Sometimes I can come up with an answer that will satisfy my curiosity.  Other times, the answer just eludes me. La page est vierge.  

My daughter Jacquelyn, has been trying to have a baby for the past several years.  She has no trouble conceiving.  I actually said to her at one time, that she should consider herself lucky that she can at least do that.  I wonder how those words ever came out of my mouth.  She miscarries before 12 weeks.  I have scoured the internet looking at others stories about the same issue.  I have read article after article, wanting to find an answer for her. I read blogs. I read medical papers.  I do this to make myself feel better.

I am her mother.  Damn-it.  The fixer of all things.  I patched up her skinned knees, I hugged her, and dried her tears when people were unkind.  I should be able to fix this. I never had any problem with my pregnancies. I wonder why she does not have it that easy.  I wonder why I cannot find an answer to why this keeps happening. I want to take her childhood magic wand and wave it.  Make all of this go away, and keep the baby here. With her, and Mike.  With us.  

And I am angry, and sad.  I watch the news and see another baby thrown away.  I wonder again.  I wonder what would ever make a Mother do something so horrific.  I wonder where the fairness is.  I wonder if those people regret their actions. I wonder why would you not offer this child up to someone else to love?  What makes someone be so selfish as to not want somebody else to love their child? 

I wonder about Jacquie.  I wonder about her all the time.  I remember how when she was young, she was the most determined, and the most independent of my children.  I wonder if that was to prepare her for this stage of her life. I wonder how strong she must be when she tells me "it's okay, Momma" when I know it's not. I wonder if she breaks down when no one else it there to witness it.  I wonder how many pieces can a heart break into. I wonder if she will ever be okay. 

This was her last shot.  She and Mike decided this would be the last.  I wonder if that's a mistake.  I wonder how you could possibly want to try over and over for the same result.  I wonder why there is no miracle for them. I wonder how in the big scheme of the universe, that this was even considered.  I wonder how this has damaged their relationship.  I wonder if they will be alright.  I wonder how she will explain this, again, to his Mother. I wonder if his Mother will understand everything my child has done, to try to make this dream come true. I wonder if they will find a baby to adopt.  I wonder if it will be enough.  I wonder if she will ever have that little face to look up at her, and call her Momma.  I wonder if it will take all this pain away and make it okay, easier to bear.

I wonder when I look at Facebook.  I wonder how these people can complain about the little things their children do.  I wonder if when they complain about how miserable their pregnancy is, do they think about those who would love to have made it far enough to have a sore back, or swollen feet.  I wonder if they are thankful for that tiny miracle they carry. I wonder if they know how truly lucky they are.  I wonder about the others who have loved and lost like my daughter. I wonder how they make it through.

I wonder how I could have ever said you are lucky to be able to at the very least get pregnant. I wonder how I could have thought that would ever make it easier, just to say goodbye.  I wonder if she knows how much I love her.  I wonder, all the time,