It’s September 1st. When I woke up this morning & remembered the date, my first thought was “This is Rose’s birth month!” instead of “This is Mama’s death month.”

In September 2007, my mother died & everything fell apart.

September 2008 brought Miscarriage #2.

In September 2009, I was recovering from Miscarriage #3 & shopping for an RE to fix me.

In September 2010, I had this conversation with Bobby:

I said something about my “infertility” & he told me that he wants that word to stop being used in our house. I just stared at him, then asked what term he would suggest I replace it with. He replied that he wants to replace it with a family… whether through childbirth or adoption, he wants a family. OUR family. He told me that he’s been doing the math, & that he’ll be pushing 60 when our kid graduates from high school, & that with his family history of heart disease, he’ll be lucky to meet his own grandchildren.

For the first time in 5 years, September is bringing something positive. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Rose’s birth month is September… that out of all 12 months & all the ttc attempts & failed pregnancies, that our baby girl just HAPPENS to be born during what has become the most painful month of the year.  I’m not one to believe in predestination, a huge master plan, or “everything happens for a reason”…  there are no reasons good enough to justify 98% of the world’s crap. But sometimes, every once in a while, things DO happen for a reason. God intervenes & gives us something to hold onto — something lovely & pure & completely good. Something that’s too beautiful, too perfect, to have come from this broken world. Something like a baby girl named Rose who is scheduled to be born just 11 days before the 4th anniversary of her grandmama’s death.

I’m thankful for this September 1st. This year & every year, on September 17th, I want to hold my daughter close & tell her about her beautiful & spunky Grandmama Denise. I want Rose to know her grandmother, & for Mama to be a part of her life. I want to be the mother that Mama taught me to be, the kind of mother Mama was. I hope I can. I’m gonna try.

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