Comforted in the Promise
You may remember that I consider Heather to be the strongest person I know. She’s also my BFF. Today, she’s sharing in remembrance of her sweet Angel baby and in honor and memory of the many babies lost.
I have three children.
If we were just meeting for the first time, I may only tell you about two of them. The little redheaded boy that runs 100 miles per hour all day long and leaves me falling into bed each night feeling exhausted but amused. And the older girl, our firstborn, the sweet, sensitive and beautiful child that is so smart and intuitive that she challenges me every single day to be a better person.
I love them fiercely — with every single fiber of my being — and I try hard every day to teach them how to be good people and how to love and be kind and show God to others through their actions.
If we were talking, I would proudly show you a thousand photographs of them, all through their years, all of those moments that I captured with my camera but that I can remember so vividly as if they had just happened yesterday.
But today is the day that I might tell you about my other daughter.
I only have about a dozen photographs of her, but they hold so many memories. The excitement that we felt on the day that we found out that we were expecting our second baby, and the joy that we felt the day that we found out that she was a girl. The worry upon receiving the call that something was wrong. The long drive to the specialist and the 3 hour ultrasound, the words “incompatible with life.”
I remember not being able to breathe and the indescribable feeling of our hopes and dreams crashing down.
I remember the doctors who supported our decision to carry on with our pregnancy and weekly trips to check for a heartbeat.
I remember friends and family who prayed and cried and tried to think of the right things to say.
I remember surrendering it up to God, asking for Him to carry us through it, and trusting that His plan was perfect and that His will would be done.
I remember the incredible pain of labor and delivery, and then seeing her perfect little face and her black curly hair.
I remember looking at her fingers and toes and her cute little bow mouth being overcome with love for her and wishing that it wouldn’t be true — that she would somehow be made whole on earth and not just in heaven.
I remember the compassion of the doctors and the sweet nurses who did everything that they could to make me comfortable when my heart was broken into a million pieces.
I remember coming home to an empty house and wishing I had a newborn baby waking me up every few hours.
I also remember gratitude.
Gratitude that God let us have her for a day after we were told that it may not happen.
Gratitude that we could see her and how perfect she was.
Gratitude that we were able to hold her and bury her and have the closure that so many parents never get.
Gratitude to have been brought closer to God through my experience and to be able to share my story with other parents who may be feeling afraid or alone.
Gratitude for my strong husband who was and is my rock.
Gratitude for family and friends who have always acknowledged her life and how it is important to us.
I am thankful for those dozen photographs of my sweet girl. I would do it all over again just for the chance to hold her for one more day.
Did you know that one in four mothers is affected by Pregnancy or Infant Loss? October 15th is the day that the world remembers the Pregnancies and Babies that we have lost — something that we remember every single day of our lives.
My prayer is that we can all find comfort in the remembrance of our children and the acknowledgement of their lives. That we can share them with the world without worrying if talking about them may be uncomfortable for someone else. That we can be better people because of them, and that we can be comforted in the promise that we will someday see them again.
Thank you for remembering our babies with us today.gopinkandblue, guest, loss, parenting, pregnancy