Warning: this post concerns babies who died far too young.
You may want to consider skipping this post if you find this subject upsetting.
Today, October 15, is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day.
Unfortunately, my husband and I are rather well qualified for talking about
losing babies.
In August 2012, only 14 or so months ago, I found out I was
pregnant. I cried, I was so thrilled! In October, at the dating scan, we found
out that baby had died. The egg had been fertilized by two sperm, and though
the tiny new life began to grow, it died very early on. I have nothing to
remember that baby by, except the photo of the pregnancy test and some
condolence cards from a few friends. And a name.
Even though we did not know if the baby was a boy of a girl,
we named the baby Jeremiah. It means “God will raise up”.
This year, on Easter Tuesday (the beginning of April), I
found out I was pregnant again! Excitement tempered with a huge dose of
nervousness and fear was the order of the day until we actually saw the tiny,
wriggling baby that was cozy and happy in my womb. After seeing the baby,
thoughts of miscarriage fled.
And we did not miscarry this baby. Instead, at 23 weeks and
6 days, our tiny son was stillborn. Wow. I don’t even know how to describe the
mix of overwhelming love for our baby, the joy at seeing him and holding him,
and the sorrow and grief at knowing this was the only time on this earth where
he will be a physical part of our life.
His name is Theodore John.
God’s Gift; God is Gracious.
This time, we have photos, presents, a blanket I crocheted,
a burp cloth and bib set made of the same material he is wrapped in even now, a grave we can visit. We have the memories of the
smiles, the delight, the joy, the devastation, the despair, the heartbreak. Oh,
what a bittersweet thing, to hold and love your tiny still baby.
Losing a baby is something that you cannot understand until
it happens to you. You can imagine it, but you cannot understand it. Not
really. And when it happens to you, you know your heart will always be a little
bit more vulnerable and broken, because part of it stayed with the tiny child who stole into it when they
came quietly into this noisy world.
You know the tears will never really stop. Sometimes the
tears are sweet as you recall the first time you saw the tiny feet that belong to your child.
Sometimes they are bitter as you see yet another woman about to burst with child, or a
newborn being cradled by its mother.
But we are not alone. So many mothers and fathers have
walked this wild road before. Some keep it close to their chest. I don’t know
how they do. I know it is impossible for me. This post is for me. It is for my
husband. It is for our mothers and fathers and sisters and brothers. It is for our friends. It is for our future children. It is for the women and men like me, who talk and share and write. And it is
especially for the women and men who hold their bittersweet memories tightly.
Cry a little, laugh a little, your baby is always yours, and you are always their
mum, their dad.
Tonight we will be lighting a candle at 7pm and letting it
burn for an hour, taking part in the International Wave of Light, a worldwide
event that remembers the tiny lives snuffed out so quickly.
We will be lighting one for our two babies, Jeremiah and
Theodore. We will probably have a bit of a cry, and we will probably smile over precious memories. Crying, smiling, even laughing... it is all bittersweet and completely precious.
Forever in your hearts eternally in the arms of Jesus, "oh what peace we have when we take it to The Lord in prayer."
ReplyDeleteThinking of your two little boys thanking the Father for caring for them now.
I have a Grandbaby there too.
Beautifully written, brought tears to my eyes. He looks so sweet, so perfect. Life is so fragile and precious, I think Theodore really drove home that fact for me. We should all be careful not to take any life for granted.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful reflection Kathy. Every life is precious, and touches our lives in immeasurable ways. So many have been blessed by your ability to share your grief and joy with us!
ReplyDeleteI love how your personality shines through in your writing, you have a gift.
ReplyDeleteThis is a precious post, beautifully written from the heart. Thanks for sharing. I lost a baby at 7 weeks and I cannot begin to imagine how hard it would be to lose one at 14 weeks or 24 weeks. You are a true inspiration. xxoo
Beautifully written with a mothers heart..so feel for you in your loss , both safe in the arms of Jesus waiting to meet mummy and daddy , when you too will be safe in the arms of Jesus, thanks for sharing this with others that it may be a comfort and blessing to them as well as yourselves..God bless you all
ReplyDelete