Hope Miscarriage Parenting

My Mother’s Response to “Own This Heart Broke Sound”

Lutricia Menges, my incredible mother (I think you’ll agree), had this to say in response to Own This Heart Broke Sound

November 11, 2015

My Dear Sweet One,

 

Today was to be your birthday.  It’s the day your Papa and I were to meet you for the first time.  It’s the day we would, once again, fall head over heals in love with a tiny angelic creature who would eventually wrap us around her little finger by simply smiling at us.

 

But we won’t meet you today.

 

Today is the day I’d hold my seventh grandbaby in my arms and smother you with the first of millions of kisses over your lifetime.

 

Today is the day I would make room for one more picture of one more little face on the walls of my home.  It’s the day I’d gaze upon yet another miracle in my life.

 

But I won’t be doing that today.

 

The day a baby is born is a day to be celebrated.  They’re days that we mark on our calendars to remind us of the magic that occurred the moment they took their first breath on earth.  Birthdays are days for giving gifts, eating cakes and making wishes while blowing out candles.

 

But we won’t be doing that today.

 

Today I would look to the future and imagine your first word, which I’m certain would be “Nana”.  I’d dream about your first step into my arms and picture your face as you tasted your first bite of ice cream.  I’d plan trips to the park and add you to my list of people I’ll take to Disney World.

 

But I won’t be doing that today.

 

Today, I’d picture you being chased around my house by your two older brothers.  I’d smile at the thought of holidays, shopping trips and princess dresses.  I’d plan slumber parties for you with Julia, Olivia, Kathryn and Claire where I’m certain we’d have a tea party in our PJ’s.

 

But I won’t be doing that today.

 

While my heart is heavy because of what I cannot do today, I realize it’s also a day I can rejoice in because of what I can do!

 

So, today, I will take the pain of not meeting you and replace it with the joy of knowing you have met the Father.  Although I won’t hold you in my arms, I know you sleep soundly in His.  And…Oh my… what it must be like to be kissed by the creator of all things.

 

Today, although I won’t hang another picture on the wall of my home, I will instead add the image of another sweet angel on the walls of my heart.  There are three such angels there now and I long for the day I will meet them in person, but, for now, I’ll rejoice in knowing that they’re playing hide and seek among the clouds.

 

Although it’s true that on November 11th we will never be able to celebrate your earthly birthday and eat cake with little pink flowers, I take comfort in the fact that you will have an eternity of days to celebrate in ways I can only imagine.  And you won’t need to blow out candles to make wishes because there is nothing you could possibly wish for that heaven has not already provided.

 

Today, I can still look to the future and imagine your first word, which most likely will not be Nana.  Instead of dreaming about you taking your first step into my arms, I will be content to think that you may indeed take it into my own mothers arms.

 

Today, I will picture your face as you taste your first bite of ice cream and I’ll laugh at the thought that it may be Pop giving it to you.  (And I can only hope you didn’t inherit his ears!)

 

Today I’ll close my eyes and imagine how glorious the parks in heaven must be.  Although it won’t be me pushing you on the swings, I suspect angels can push you much higher then I ever could.  And, as amazing as Disney World is, I suspect it pales at the sites you’ll see where you’ll grow up.  Instead of riding roller coasters, you’ll ride on the shoulders of Jesus.  Instead of meeting Cinderella and Snow White, you’ll meet Queen Ester and Mary.  Instead of hearing Mickey Mouse tell stories of how Tinkerbelle was created, you’ll hear stories from King David and Moses.

 

Today, I’ll celebrate a life.  Your life.  So, my sweet little angel, I want you to know that occasionally you may see tears on my cheeks as I embrace the reality that you are not here with me.  But, on those days I miss you, I’ll take a stroll into my heart and gaze at the picture of you hanging there and I’ll rejoice in the fact that although you don’t exist in the world I live in, you do exist.

 

My love, today, I will not get to greet you in person, but until I do, give the Father a kiss for me and tell Him thank you for taking such good care of you.

 

All my love,

Nana

(From all the parents who know this ache, thank you, Mom.  Just, thank you.)

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  • Francina Siders Simmons November 16, 2015 at 11:36 am

    Wow. This is a must read for every mother and/or family member that has walked this road. Words straight from the heart of God to help heal.

  • Jan Hockenberry November 16, 2015 at 9:12 pm

    Not sure who to applaud more mom or daughter, You both have an amazing way of telling a beautiful story. It is amazing how easy it is to get engaged completely in your story.’
    Thank you for sharing a really special gift with the rest of us.