Hindsight

Friday, May 14 started like any other day around here.  Reid got up around 4 a.m...I followed about an hour later.  We each had a time reading the Bible; then we talked a while before he left for work.
  I ate breakfast, then sat down to read my email. 
Will was kicking and squirming, and I remember sitting here, thinking, "Wow.  I can hardly believe it!  Here I am, sitting here, feeling a baby kick!  And 25 weeks tomorrow!  I am *so* blessed." 
  I am thankful that  moment made such an impression on me, that I remembered it.
After prowling the WWWeb for a bit, I got up and began the day...fixing breakfast for Adam and Hannah...starting laundry, cleaning a little here and there.
   Outside, our neighborhood was cranking up for the annual "Yard Sale Weekend."  Many neighbors were set up in their driveways, peddling their goods.  Soon, they had to pull things into garages, because it started to rain.
   I started to get very agitated.  Every noise (and believe me, in *this* house, we *have* noise!) startled me.  I was irritated with the children, though they weren't really doing anything wrong.  I felt like my skin was crawling and all I wanted to do was run away.
   Reid texted me to see how my day was going.  I told him the truth.  He tried to help me figure out what was bothering me, but there really wasn't anything we could come up with.
   He volunteered to take the kids when he got home from work, so I could go out by myself--a night off.
    With that encouraging plan, I hustled around the house, working on chores, correcting children, cleaning, cooking...
   Reid got home and I took off on my "Night Out."  Right before I left, we retrieved the mail.  There was an aggravating letter from the state Dept. of Revenue, saying we had missed something on our taxes.  I told Reid I would plan to fret about that another day, as I was off duty.  :-)
   I went to the library to return some items.
  Then, I stopped for supper.  I ate a cheeseburger, and sat back, waiting for Will to start his post-prandial martial arts.
   After a few minutes, I noticed that he wasn't behaving like usual.  Fear began to rise up in me, but I kept telling myself not to panic.  I had had those scary moments sometime during every pregancy.  Still, Will wasn't moving.
   So, I began to my next destination, the health food store to pick up some more vitamins.  I started talking to the baby,
"WILL!!!  MOVE!!"   "C'mon, Baby!  Kick!"  He didn't.
   I still was figuring that he was just asleep.
   I went into the health food store, praying silently that Will was ok.  It was hard not to cry as I walked through the aisles, completely distracted by the sinking feeling in my gut.
   I went to the bathroom, and thought I felt a tiny kick while I was in the stall.  That helped me feel a little better, but it wasn't the nice, strong movement I knew Will was capable of.
   Finally, I gathered all my supplements and went to check out.
  The bill was high--$87.00  A chilling thought flitted through my mind as I swiped our health savings account debit card:  "This is a waste.  The baby's dead."  I wondered "who" was whispering that?  Satan or the Holy Spirit?  (I'm guessing the devil, now, as I know the vitamins are still important for *my* health, even though Will is gone.)
   I finished paying and went out to the van.

It was dead.