Smiley

When we discovered I was pregnant for the first time, we nicknamed our growing baby Roswell. Later, of course, we named him Charlie. When we found out I was pregnant again we felt it only fair that the new baby would have a fun nickname, too. We chose Smiley. Perhaps it was because I liked to think of our baby being happy as he/she grew and hoped that upon being born, he/she would smile as much as baby Charlie does. Or, maybe Smiley felt right because of the smiles this new pregnancy brought to our faces. In any case, the name stuck.

We buried the remains of Smiley today. We decided upon a spot beneath a birch tree. I've always liked birth trees in part because they are unique with their white bark and in part because of Robert Frost's poem, Birches. I read this poem before we placed our Smiley into the ground and marked the spot with a large white quartz rock.

While I had no say in the loss of this pregnancy, I feel fortunate to have had a say in how we handled our lost baby's remains. I know many people who suffer miscarriages have procedures in hospitals where they never see the remains of their developing baby. Many times the embryo and surrounding tissue is compiled with other medical waste and incinerated. Something doesn't feel quite right about that to me. Of course, nothing seems quite right about a miscarriage. But, I like that we could decide to place Smiley under the birch and say a few words that give us comfort as well as closure.