Day 19: Remember Your Blessings
Last week, in the midst of Breast Cancer Awareness and Down syndrome Awareness, there was this one special day to remember the babies. October 15th was set aside as the day to remember the babies lost before birth and after. My heart reaches out to embrace the women I love dearly who have had this loss, my heart reaches to the men, because the pain doesn't just find the moms, dads feel it too.
I've known too many who have lost and I have bowed my head in sorrow at their losses. I have searched my head and heart and have prayed that God would give me the words to say. There are no words that are going to heal the pain, but for someone who feels her heart breaking for a loved one's pain, I can pray that I won't manage to say the wrong thing. Sometimes I think that silence is best, that the holding of a hand while the pain is given the chance to flow to me, that perhaps I can help carry that for at least a little while.
I've been Blessed with three children, after three pregnancies. Once I finally had Madison safe in the womb, I kept my babies. Before Madison, we thought we were going to love a whole bunch of animals until we could afford to adopt. It wasn't that I couldn't carry, it was simply that I couldn't successfully conceive. Madison was a product of fierce determination by one stubborn doc, and one curious staff that were willing to fill in whenever he wasn't available. Sometimes even a miracle needs a little help to get started.
I tell you this about me to tell you about this:
Sweet Parents, walking out of Balboa, I see you. I see how he is supporting you, I see how you are holding yourself rigid and tall, but look to be moments from shattering into a million pieces. I see how you are avoiding looking at the sudden influx of babies that are all over the place. But mostly, I see the powder blue blanket across your arm, clutched in white-knuckled hands. And as I see you go by in the span of moments, for me they are moments slowed and spread out over a lifetime, the lifetime of the child you aren't bringing home. I don't know your pain, I've never lost like you. I do know how it feels to love the baby you're holding, and yet wish with all your heart that you would be given a tiny baby of your own to hold and love. And I've been well into pregnancy and have someone I love lose her baby; desperately wanting to comfort and knowing at the same time I am THAT reminder, me with my big belly.
Sweet Parents, I want to give you hope, but I know it doesn't work out for everyone. I have held the babies of those that finally did, and I have loved them with joy because touching a miracle will do that. And I have hugged those that still want but aren't meant to have children: medical, timing, whatever the reason. And they find that there are other ways for life to provide its wealth of miracles. I don't know if parenthood is going to work out for you, but I said a prayer for you as we passed, hoping that loss will be eased and that the light that comes with love and joy will find you.
Even had I known about that extra chromosome before Bradley was born...I would never have squandered the gift I was given, because I am not built that way, and because I know so many who have lost. A miracle is a miracle, ask a mom with empty womb and empty arms...surely, a baby is a baby. It has always been that way for me, I think I know quite a few who would trade empty for a baby like mine, because such Blessings only come one in every seven hundred or so.
Happy Sunday Folks. Remember!!! Blessings on you, I see you, I respond to your pain and your loss and my prayers are with you.
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