I wrote the following letter eight years ago to our first little baby. Even though many things in our lives have changed since that time, I still read this letter every year and I pray for all women who have ever had a similar experience. I am feeling convicted to post this here on my blog this year, even though it is a very personal and intimate letter that I wrote to my unborn child.
II Corinthians 1:3-5 "Blessed be God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies, and the God of all comfort; Who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble, by the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God. For as the sufferings of Christ abound in us, so our consolation also aboundeth by Christ." I believe that God allowed us to go through this experience so that we could be comforted by God, and now we can comfort others with that same comfort that we received. If you are suffering in a difficult situation in your life, believe that God will comfort you, and most likely it is so that you are also able to comfort others with that same comfort that you receive. He makes no mistakes.
Dear Little Baby,
Today is the day that the doctor said you would be born. February 19, 2002. I watched him as he calculated the day on his little cardboard wheel, but I already knew what he would say. I was so excited when I found out that you were actually growing inside of me, that I looked at all kinds of information on the internet. I wanted to learn everything I could about you and I already knew that you would be due on February 19. That date was burned into my heart! That would be the day that I would finally meet you!
Today is the day you were to be born. We kept the knowledge of you a secret for almost three months. We wanted to be sure that everything was fine with your development before we told anyone about you. We had heard so many stories of other babies just like you who, for reasons that only God knows, weren’t able to live very long and we saw the pain in their parents’ eyes. We prayed that you would be healthy and that God would protect your little growing body so that we wouldn’t have to know that same pain. We had a little secret going – you, your dad and me. We counted the days before we could finally tell the rest of the world that you were on your way here!
Today is the day that we told your grandparents you would be born. We made cards for them telling them to look forward to February 19 because you would be here today. They were so excited! We asked them to wait one more week before they told anyone because we wanted to be sure that you were ok. We told your aunts and uncles and cousins, too, and they wanted to hear all about you. Uncle Henry was excited because his birthday is tomorrow. He was hoping that you would be born one day late so you could share his birthday. Aunt Karen and Opa were hoping you would be born on the 27th, on their birthdays. Auntie Claudia, Oma, and Uncle Bob were hoping you’d be early and come close to one of their birthdays. I didn’t really mind what day you would be born, as long as you were safe in my arms! February 19. That’s the day that I was waiting for.
Today is the day that I marked my calendar with little hearts and smiley faces. I didn’t know your name, so I couldn’t write that down, but I was going to do it as soon as I knew. We had baby name books. We looked up name lists on the Internet. We talked about what names we liked if you would be a boy or if you would be a girl. There was no rush to choose a name for you because we still had six months to get ready for the big day! We wanted to make sure that we picked the perfect name for you because you would have it for the rest of your life.
Today is the day that we were going to have everything in place for your arrival. There would be a room all of your own. There would be clothes ready to put on your beautiful little body. There would be a rocking chair ready to hold us as we held you. There would be toys given to you as gifts waiting for the day that you would be old enough to play with them. There would be car seats purchased and a crib assembled and tiny bottles of gentle bath supplies just for you. There would be bibs and bottles and blankets ready to wrap around your precious body to keep you warm. Everything would have been in place waiting for you to come today.
Today is the day that now breaks my heart. You are not coming today. You won’t be coming tomorrow either. Or ever. Today, February 19, 2002, is now permanently scarred into my heart. One week after we finally shared the special news with your grandparents, and only the day after we told some of your cousins, our dreams of the future with you came to a crumbling end. We changed our plans to leave on vacation that day, August 3, because I knew that something just wasn’t right. We prayed with all our might that God would protect you. We asked our family and our friends to pray, even though some of them didn’t even know what they were praying about. I finally cried out to God that He would pry my hands off of my hopes and dreams to see you and to hold you and to be your mommy and that He would take you from me, if He knew that He could take better care of you than I. God heard my prayer, because He chose to take you from my body before I could even see you or hold you or be your mommy. And I am grateful to Him for doing what was best for all of us.
Today is the day that I will remember you. I will remember the first hint of your conception. I will remember the days that I was so terribly sick because you were growing inside of my body. I will remember the excitement of dreaming about you and sharing the news about you with the people we love. I will remember my fears of losing you and I will remember each horrid detail of that coming to pass. But I will also remember the arms of my Father holding me as I cried for you. I will remember the overwhelming peace that He placed in my heart as He took you from my body. I will remember that His ways are higher than ours and that His love is perfect.
Today is the day that you are at Home. Not here with us, but with your Father. And I know that today you are safe and are loved by the One who is greater than any father or mother here could ever be. I will always remember today. Sometimes with overwhelming sadness, and other times with immense peace. I loved you, my child, for the short time that we lived together, and I will always remember you on February 19 because …
Today is the day that you were to be born.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
5 comments:
That is beautiful, Martha.
God does cherish all of our broken and unsustainable dreams. He protects the helpless and holds them in his loving arms. And He joins us in our sorrow, redeeming it and refining it to shine like gold.
That was such a tear-jerker. Martha, I'm praying for you. That must have been so hard to write. I know that day is carved into your heart, too.
God only gives us burdens He knows we can carry. And He'll help us with them, too. Love you.
That's so neat that God inspired you to write this in a difficult time of your life. So glad that you could share this and give God the glory for this little angel.
Oh, Mar,
What a beautiful tribute to your precious little one in the hands of God. Thankful for the grace He gave you to write and share your feelings with others. God bless you and your dear family.
Wow Martha, this brought tears to my eyes. A very beautiful letter that must have been so difficult to write. Thank God that he's here to help us through our pain and sorrow.
Post a Comment