FOUR left my bed, left my room. He left the SACRED that surrounded my tiny new baby boy. My baby. His spirit was not in his body. But somehow…? It was close. Whisperingly close. Holding ME. Comforting me. In my grief. Loving me through the VEIL that kept us apart.
I laid there in my bed. Beside his tiny still form. I held him. I touched each FINGER. Each TOE. I kissed him. Gentle. Tender and gentle as a butterfly wing creating the tiniest of a breeze. I studied his PERFECT little body. I wondered what that sweet little NOSE would have looked like. Were those my CHEEKS? Were those meant to be my same dainty FINGERS or Daddy’s strong ones? What would he have looked like in NINE months? Born in a hospital? With a Doctor keeping him safe? I wept. I MOURNED. What about in a few years when he WOULD have been as old as princess FIVE? Or when HE should have started school? I am sure he would have been the sweetest kindergartener ever! I wanted to hold THAT boy! The five-year-old that he did not get the chance to become. Not yet. WAITING. I believe. I know. I will see him SOMEDAY. Faith! But that is so far from NOW. I want my SON. Then AND now!
That is all I CAN do. I pray for me. I pray for our kids to understand. To cope. I pray for Heavenly Father to love and take care of my boy for me. I KNOW He will, but it helps my heart to ask. I NEED to ask. I ask Heavenly Father to tell my baby – FOR ME – that I love him. His mommy LOVES him and misses him SO much. I want him. I want him! I want it all to CHANGE.
I stroke his cheek. I wrap him in his beautiful white handkerchief. It is SO big. He is so very tiny. I want to rub him awake. ALIVE. Like the puppy on 101 Dalmatians? It worked for them. Would it give me my son back too? No. He was not meant to come now. I feel it. The understanding fills my heart and mind. It hurts! Why does understanding fail to remove the pain?! I thought understanding made people stronger. I am weak. I weep.
I want to freeze the moment. To never move or change or breath a different moment again. I hate the pain. But it hurts less than moving on. Moving ON! I can’t! I can’t move forward without my baby boy! It’s so unfair. Absolutely unfair. To him. To me. To Daddy. To each of the kids. To the world that doesn’t get to know my little fighter. A fighter? Where does that idea come from? It just appears. It settles with “rightness.” He fought for ME. He was meant to wait until the resurrection. That was THE plan. Always. But he willingly waited. Fought. Struggled. Hurt? He waited. For me. So I could see him move, see him LIVE, hear his baby fast heart beat. I had to know he lived. I had to know it was NOT my fault. I did NOT cause this. I know. Yet I weep. Gratitude. Grief and gratitude mixed. The most unlikely cornucopia of confusion. Relief. Fear. Hope. Pain. Love. So much love! From me. FOR me. I am blessed.
I begin to see. To understand. More. It was always in God’s hands. I was in His tender, loving care. My baby too. Blessed. We were blessed. Both. SO much. He got a body! I got a new son! No worries of the strife of this Earth life for him. I will be able to raise him when I am beyond some of my current mortal failings. He knows me. He knows Daddy, the whole family. He can love us from there. I got to see – to know – that he LIVED. We all get to love him. To remember. A new goal! We WILL work. We will be worthy to have him forever! He will inspire us. We will NOT forget!
He is PART of us! We ARE eight after all! Eight? NO! Remembering. The others. What about the other THREE? After TWO. Before THREE. There were three more babies! What about them? I remember. “Miscarriage.” I hate THAT word! I almost forgot. Did I try to forget? I still remember. The FIRST. That baby LIVED. I knew it. But SECOND and THIRD? I never KNEW. I never FELT. I only felt…nothing. Hormones. Hormones and nothing about their lives. Did they get bodies? Spirits that are mine to love and to mother? Confusing. Sad and confusing. It hurts to not know. Lonely for them. For me. Guilt! But the FIRST – I knew that baby was mine. Real. Alive. A GIRL? Just a feeling. I never got to see her. NEVER. But I feel her. I love her. She is mine. But I set her aside in my mind with the SECOND and THIRD. I couldn’t hold her. I miss her NOW. Guilt. How did I walk away from her without this pain? Why? Was it because I didn’t love her? Really? NO! I DO love her. I WANT her. But. Somehow. I knew everything was OK and that OTHERS were still coming. I knew I was not DONE. What about now? Was this my last chance? Finished? Ended with heartbreak and longing? Please God. Help me. Another? Cope in grief? Endure it well! Please help me!
Prayer. It’s all I have. Center. Ignore…everything. Focus. God, Jesus, and my little boy. This little boy. I need to wrap him up better. His handkerchief is so big. It has a little spot of his blood. He needs a clean one. Later. Everything can be later. Right now. Me. My son. My faith. And prayer. Prayer and sleep. Disappear into sleep. Find peace in His arms while my baby lays next to my empty arms. Sleep. Sleep IN prayer. Rest. Peace.
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