I am relieved tonight. Ruth got through the D and C without physical complications and seems to be physically safe - at home. Emotionally the care she and Chris received, especially from one nurse and a chaplain, was healing. They were talked to respectfully, as parents of a baby who died, their loss taken seriously -arrangements made for them to make private arrangements for the baby's body. This respectful, kind treatment helped them through a difficult day, and that helps me.

I've been pretty normal today, calm, working - but every hour or so my mind chronicles another experience I won't have with this Friedling - singing "The Ants Go Marching One By One" off key trying to help her fall asleep, heavy head, soft curls against my cheek - playing "Where is the moon?" - first foot in salt water at the beach - so many firsts that won't happen. My grief is quiet, lapping in my heart, rippling up as the loss becomes more and more real.

Being a secondary mourner is different. I miss the possibility of this baby deeply - and my focus is more on supporting Ruth and Chris than on my own missing, my own loss. Knowing Ruth got through the D and C safely is some kind of first step that lets me think and feel more about not having this baby to love.

Life is so fragile - even staying alive to get born - surviving infancy, childhood, teen years - reaching the age I have reached already. I am thankful for the moments of my life tonight.