As I prepare for the day, I realize I have manage this week without shedding a tear.
Sunday, three years ago, Mark and I suffered a miscarriage. In fact, we were suppose to be part of our friend's wedding that very day.
But the night before, after putting up the Sukkah and beginning the celebration of Sukkot, I started getting very sick.
6 am the next morning, we lost our child.
It was a rough time. I went into a deep depression.
Mark took me away, to the very place we spend our honeymoon and that began the healing progress.
Every year since this week has been a hard one. Remembering a baby now in heaven.
I remember the dream I had one night two weeks later: our baby, a little girl, being held by Mark's mum, who died many years ago. That gave us both comfort.
We planted a Fig tree in our baby's honour.
Next year, we shall bare figs we can eat.
Yes, there is an ach in my heart, but this year, no tears.
And who knows, maybe next year, if the Holy One wills it, we shall indeed have a child of our own.