October 14

My middle son has been waiting since the beginning of our journey into the Middle Ages to read the story of William the Conqueror. He adopted the name "Guillaume," the French version of William, for his French and history studies this year, because he thought William sounded like an admirably tough warrior.

Serendipitously, we arrived at that chapter of "Famous Men" today -- on the 945th anniversary of the Battle of Hastings. Sometimes I manage to plan these things, but today had nothing to do with me. I didn't realize the date beyond 1066!

Unfortunately, Middlest was devastated to discover that his chosen namesake was disliked by his northern English subjects, punished the rebels by destroying their land and leaving them to starve to death, enacted an 8 o'clock couvre feu (curfew; to cover fire), and was deserted on his deathbed by his own sons and assistants. (The biggest betrayal, I think, was the 8 o'clock curfew!)

As disappointing as it was to find out that a Norman conqueror was a bit of a bully, the boys still enjoyed this video of the Bayeux Tapestry by PotionGraphics.

(Warning: bloody embroidered war scenes)

In other coincidental news (if you believe in coincidences, which I don't)... tomorrow -- October 15 -- is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. I learned this through Pam, who linked to Niki, both of whom lost unborn babies this year. My heart is aching along with theirs right now.

I know now that the Lord directed me to Pam's post last weekend as a merciful whisper of things to come.

I counted myself fortunate enough to have made it through 10 years of motherhood without experiencing that kind of loss -- until this week. I was hoping to be able to tell you all of our joyous news in another month or so. I found out only last week that I would be due on June 10 -- Littlest's birthday -- with baby number 4.

But I started bleeding a few days ago. Just a little at first, and I tried not to worry. A dear friend of mine bled consistently through two of her pregnancies, and the boys are 4 and 6 now. But that is not my normal, and something (or Someone) inside me whispered, "It's your turn. Get ready."

Yesterday, UberDad and I spent the afternoon in the waiting room at the doctor's office with the 16-week pregnant mamas about to get their ultrasounds. We were probably kind of annoying, sitting there obnoxiously guffawing and making sarcastic remarks about the so-called "health news" coming from the waiting room TV. Our nervous energy was obvious. As was the picture of my already empty uterus.

The tears are flowing freely today. Normally, Fridays are our Racing Days. Race through homeschool and chores in the morning. Race through lunch so we can race to music lessons. Race from music lessons to the car wash to the library. Race home and collapse.

Today, the boys read to me on my bed, and I tried not to cringe too much when they bounced. We moved slowly next door to find some lunch. I tried not to get frustrated when no one had their shoes on or their instruments in hand when it was time to go. I dropped them off at the music studio, which I never do.

And then I came home to rest. I'll go back to pick them up soon. My boys are so amazing. They have been such comforters, even as I know they are sad themselves. I would not have told them so soon, but that's just how it worked out. They are amazingly trusting of how Life comes and goes.

I feel so blessed. To have three healthy children. To have known this pregnancy even in its brevity. To have compassionate friends, both close by and online. To have heard the Spirit's whisper, and to feel His comforting presence with me through this process.

I know the Lord is in control at all times, trustworthy at all times, and merciful at all times. And I know that this experience puts me in good company with so many mothers who also have had to let go when they least wanted to.