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Martina Grows Up Pencil and colored pencil Martina would have been my first child had I not miscarried. The event, one week before Christmas in 1995, was devastating. The holiday timing an unexpected gift rather than a cruel twist, as I learned a lesson about and was comforted by the hope of Christmas. Martina remains with me seventeen years later. In this picture she looks very much like my fifteen year old daughter and is tied to my thirteen year old son by the birds that he loves sitting comfortably on her shoulder. She is at the center of an intersection of love, joy, grief, loss, hope, birth and death: mystery.
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