Bailey's Day

"All told, probably more women have lost a child from this world than haven't. Most don't mention it, and they go on from day to day as if it hadn't happened, so people imagine a woman in this situation never really knew or loved what she had.

But ask her sometime: how old would your child be now? And she'll know.”
― Barbara Kingsolver, Animal Dreams

I wasn't thinking about anything in particular as I drifted off to sleep last night, other than maybe mentally running through the huge to-do list I keep revising. I slept fairly peacefully, though, something I don't count on when my mind is on its usual hamster wheel when I go to bed. And then I had an incredibly vivid dream of holding my niece, Bailey. Really, it was probably more like a memory, except that I heard a child's laughter as I woke up. I really did hear it, as clearly as the sound of my own children's laughter. And somehow I knew it was her. I don't even care how hokey that might sound.

I thought about her all morning, mostly just remembering what it felt like to hold her for that little while on the night she was born. I will never forget it. I didn't know her like her parents did, of course, but I am still so deeply grateful that I had a very real glimpse into the person she was. Bailey was a playful spirit in her mother's womb, I wrote back in September, and somehow it makes sense that I woke to her giggle this morning.

I didn't even realize until late this afternoon that today was supposed to be her due date. I knew it was near, in late November, but it wasn't until I logged onto Facebook this afternoon that I realized it's actually today, November 28.

She is still such a force in her parents' lives, as she always will be. And as I read their words today, I remembered not only what it felt like to hold Bailey myself but to see the very obvious and very beautiful way they were already so bonded with her when she was born. I have absolutely no doubt in my heart that Bailey knew exactly what she was doing when she chose them for her parents.

It's easy for me to be sad and angry, because truth to tell, I still think it's totally unfair that she's not here. But that's not the only thing I can feel, and it's not even the biggest thing I feel, because I really believe that Bailey herself delivered a little dose of grace straight to my heart this morning. I can only imagine the way she's playing in the very center of her parents' lives, fitting herself in exactly where they need her.

Bailey's birthday is in September, and sapphires will always belong to her. But today is hers, too, and all the days in between.