Wait for me

*warning: you are probably used to me being sarcastic, and may realistically be confused by the serious tone of this blog post. I apologize. Contrary to popular belief, and despite the fact that I have overheard another mother refer to me as “Ice Cube”, I do have a heart.


So today I was reading my Twitter friend Sarah’s blog here: http://bio-girl.blogspot.com/2011/03/24-hours.html

Sara is trying to have a second baby, and she is having to go through a lot more than most of us do. Certainly a heck of a lot more than I ever had to go through to get pregnant (honestly, I should teach sex ed. ‘Why yes, you CAN get pregnant if he sneezes on you’).

But her post still struck a chord with me, because I can remember a time when I had those exact same thoughts–of love and hope and expectations–about a baby that I hadn’t even met. And like Sarah, I think already having a child just made me realize what I was missing, even more. I also remember the longing to give my first born a brother or sister–someone to bond with; someone to fight in the backseat with on long road trips.

I don’t think I’ve ever blogged about this before, despite the fact that it has crossed my mind, almost on a daily basis, for the last 7 years. (I was too lazy to confirm this fact by looking back through old posts, so I may be lying. Get over it)

I tend to think about our “should have been” second child more often during March, which would have been his birthday month. And always, I find myself thinking about other friends who have lost a pregnancy also, or more tragically, a child. And of course, I was doubly blessed, in the wake of our personal loss, with the addition of not only a second child, but also a surprise bonus third.

Whenever I do get a little sad, thinking about who that little person might have been, I always find the song “The Promise” by Tracey Chapman to be comforting. The words helped me through the weeks following our loss, and also through the scary, walking on egg shells feeling of the first few months of my pregnancy with Henry.

And so, because I can relate so much to Sarah’s feelings about a second child, and yet, I have no idea how her journey feels, I will be sending her good thoughts tomorrow that in 9 (or 10) months she will have more than just the promise of a child, but really be holding her second born child in her arms.

The Promise

If you wait for me then I’ll come for you
Although I’ve traveled far
I always hold a place for you in my heart
If you think of me If you miss me once in awhile
Then I’ll return to you
I’ll return and fill that space in your heart
Your touch
Your kiss
Your warm embrace
I’ll find my way back to you
If you’ll be waiting
If you dream of me like I dream of you
In a place that’s warm and dark
In a place where I can feel the beating of your heart

I’ve longed for you and I have desired
To see your face your smile
To be with you wherever you are

Your touch
Your kiss
Your warm embrace
I’ll find my way back to you
Please say you’ll be waiting

Together again
It would feel so good to be
In your arms
Where all my journeys end
If you can make a promise If it’s one that you can keep, I vow to come for you
If you wait for me and say you’ll hold
A place for me in your heart.


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7 responses to “Wait for me

  1. Sarah

    Oh my goodness, this post is beautiful. Thank you for your support and sweet sweet words. I love the song.

  2. I’m crying. Right here at my desk.

    Because even though it’s been a year since I became pregnant, I am still as raw as I was when I lost the baby in June.

    I am so very familiar with The Promise and dug it out of the dark corner of my iPod. It may be on repeat for today.

    Thank you so much for such a beautiful post. So much.

  3. Thanks for this post. It resonated with me for a couple of different reasons, but they were all things I needed to be reminded of.

  4. Kazee

    Simply wow lady…

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