Today's post weaves together the ideas of my two previous posts:
The first was about the value and healing that can come from telling your story and being heard. To Speak and Hear
The second was about grief that comes with the untimely loss of a child. Her Baby Died
The reflecting and writing of those experiences has cultivated a strong response within me. I need to share that response with her. I need share them here so that others holding onto grief: fresh or lingering- can know there are people in your life who feel this way. People who want to listen. If you can't find your people- find me.
Dear Amanda,
I think about you every
day-in the morning when I wake up, moments here and there during the day and
before I fall asleep at night. I am not the only one thinking of you. I don’t
tell you that to make you feel uncomfortable, but to show how deeply I am
touched by the loss of your son Joshua.
I am sad to know you are
changed forever by this loss- that you can never go back to May 4, 2015 and un-know
this all. I am sad to know you are a mother that will not get to hold, nurse,
comfort your baby boy. I don’t know what it is like to go through a loss of a
baby. I haven’t lived it. I can only imagine how hard these days must be.
I feel led to write this
to you, to reach out and share the words written in my heart. I know that words
aren’t always what you need. I know that the most well-meaning friends can say
things that make the hurt worse. I do not want to do that. It is hard for those
of us that care about you. We want to make it better; we want to take your pain,
to make sense of it. And we can’t. And that is hard too.
If you don’t like my
words you can stop reading now. Read it later- or never. One nice thing about a
written letter is that you get to be in control when you read it- if you do.
In my work I have been
at births where the baby was still born, injured, or died soon after birth.
I’ve witnessed the mothers of these babies live into their grief, through it
and out the other side. I’ve listened to their stories, treasuring them like precious
jewels. Each one’s journey is different, each with her own timing and grace.
These are words I’ve
heard from other grieving mothers. A collection of reflections and my offering
to you:
- You are Joshua David’s mother and you always will be. He is your precious first born. You miss him and we do too.
- It is ok to be angry, sad, jealous and more angry. God is big enough to hear your cries, your screams of anger. God’s heart breaks as yours is broken.
- God is ever with you- holding you, surrounding you with love, offering you hope and peace when you are ready and able to receive it.
- · This is not some kind of test of your faith. You did nothing wrong. God did not plan this loss for you and David. It is not something that you were given because you are strong enough to handle it- it is too much for any mother.
- Your family, friends, and church ache for your loss. They love you and are praying for you. The may not understand what you are feeling, but they will keep loving you. When you feel lost and lonely remember us here loving you.
And for the time that
you need to talk about it- to tell your story- I would be honored to listen. I
don’t expect you to be ready today or maybe not even a year from now. But IF
and WHEN you are ready there is so much I want to hear about.
I’ll listen to the story of:
- How you labored
- How your husband took care of you
- How your body birthed your sweet son
- About those moments between his birth and knowing something was wrong.
- Tell me about him. Who does he look like? (I think you). Tell me about his dark hair, his perfect face, his long fingernails
- Tell me about your first hours of motherhood
- And the hard things- the trip to the hospital, all those minutes you didn’t know for sure, saying good bye, your last holding of him, those first days home, and then the days after that.
Tell
me. And I’ll listen celebrating those tiny moments sparkling of joy and
victory. And I’ll listen with sorrow and grief to the life changing loss.
I
am not afraid. I will listen.
With love-
Betsy