I was going to let today pass. I put on my necklace, that I wear almost daily and that was going to be it.
My way to remember. My way to love. My way to miss.
Then one of my favorite authors, who has also gone through 3 losses (2 miscarriages, and one was of twins) shared a post. It got me thinking. Agreeing. I thought, “I’m not famous, won’t reach that many…” Then a dear friend who has had multiple losses posted a remembrance banner to remind people to light a candle at 7pm. I lit mine. It’s nap time, quiet, and I could remember.
Then I really remembered. Three friends I’ve been walking shoulder to shoulder with in their trying to conceive journeys and all had a loss this year. In fact, I probably know more then a handful of women, whom I care about going through this tragic and sorrow filled journey presently.
I decided to write for them, for their children. And for Baby J.
I remember our Baby J and think of him all the time. Some days the remembrance is more painful. But most days it is just my way to honor our first little one who we won’t meet until heaven.
I wonder what he would have contributed to our family dynamic, what his first word would have been.
Would he have looked like one of my other boys?
How would we have turned out if he had joined us in our daily life?
Every child changes you and I know Baby J would have too. So often I wonder. Wish.
That being said, my loss is easier today then it was on Thanksgiving of 2011. I’ll never forget the day, I see pictures from that day or time period and memories and emotions do rush back.
However, the Lord has done a work in me and is using me, blessing me, teaching me.
I am here, living a beautiful life, and thankfully raising a family.
I think of my friends and their losses – each different. For one it’s longing for a first child, for others they are waiting and hoping for a consecutive child, a sibling for their beloved living child.
I want to take away the hurt, I can’t.
I want to tell them it will work out, I can’t.
I want to carry some weight, I can’t.
But what I can do is remember. Remember with them.
Love the little ones they will not know. And pray.
I am remembering and praying today.
This hurt is unique to us all. But I am here.