Today I spoke with someone who shared stories of two women who recently lost babies. Perhaps it was a providential conversation because today, October 15, is the day we remember all babies who we have lost. I haven’t been active on this blog the last couple of years. I always told myself that I would blog when I felt the Holy Spirit moving me to blog, and I have felt at peace about letting my blog sit the last two years. But I couldn’t help but feel a slight tug that perhaps it was time to write again.
Isabelle would be eight years old and in second grade today. I think of her daily. There is a little girl in Arthur’s preschool class who has a head full of ringlets. There was a time when I probably would have sat in my car and sobbed at the sight of her each morning while dreaming about what Isabelle might look like today. My heart is sad but my head can acknowledge that sadness and also feel gratitude for being given the time that I was with her. I make the choice daily to live a life that honors her memory. I strive to be the best mother I can for her three spirited brothers. I ask her to pray for me every. single. day. I know that she’s interceding for us daily, and I appreciate having our family‘s own little prayer warrior.
There are tough days. There are days when I look at my three boys running around the backyard, and my heart acknowledges that there is a void. It feels like there should be someone else playing with them. There are days that I wish that I was doing second grade math homework with a little girl sitting at the counter. There are days that I wish I got to pick out cute little dresses for her to wear. There are days where it’s difficult to make the choice to hold back the tears in certain situations because I know that if I don’t, I won’t be able to accomplish the things that are necessary for my other children that day. But most days, I’m doing fine.
As the years go by, and more of my friends have experienced a similar type of loss, my heart has created an image of a beautiful choir of little ones in heaven singing with God and praying for all of us. The purity and innocence of their souls is certainly something for which we should all strive; I know I certainly do. One day I hope to join sweet Isabelle, and all of those we have lost, in heaven.
So this year, at the Wave of Light, I want all the parents who have lost babies recently to know this: I see you. I understand you. I’ve been there, and carrying the grief does get easier. You do not have to carry it alone. The first step to sharing the load is to talk about it. That is what today is all about – removing the stigma associated with talking about pregnancy and infant loss. No one should be forced to morn alone. We are stronger when we carry grief together.
Please join me for the Wave of Light tonight by lighting a candle at 7pm in memory of all babies that we have lost. #WaveOfLight2022
