Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Sharing

 October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month! Let's take some time to remember the babies who were born asleep, or whom we carried but never met, or those we have held but could not take home, or the ones who made it home, but didn't stay. Make this your profile status if you or someone you know has suffered the loss of a baby. Baby loss is still a taboo subject. Break the silence. In memory of all lost angels I'm sharing the story of meeting my own angel.

Ten years ago, I had three handsome sons and a beautiful little daughter. When Kylie was 9 months old, I found out I was pregnant again. The timing wasn't awesome. We weren't *trying* to get pregnant, and I was truly conflicted about having another baby at that time. In fact, I told my husband with a positive pregnancy test and a note. 
 I'm sure you can imagine the guilt I carried after losing her a few months later--because I had not welcomed the news of her existence with an open heart and mind. Had I somehow caused this miscarriage? It took years of processing and asking and praying before I began to understand. As difficult as losing her was, this was all by design. She had a short mission to fulfill, and the timing of that mission was to offer growth to me (and her daddy). As difficult as it was to know that she had grown a bit within me just to suddenly die, and that to be weeks before my body gave me clues of her passing, I understand now that this wasn't something I had done. 
 And then, unbidden, I had this experience:

A Precious Gift

Last night God gave me a gift most precious. I can't describe to you its worth, so I will tell you what happened.

I met my daughter.

Ten years ago July 17, I miscarried. Though we named her and treated her as part of our family, a part of me was unsure. Did I carry a spirit within me, or had my body just grown an empty vessel that had never belonged to anyone? (Even though I don't believe God does it that way, I still wondered)

But now I know.

Her image is already fading from my subconscious, but I'll describe her for you as best I can. She had long hair that was the lightest brown, almost blond. Her eyes were those of someone much older, much wiser, and I want to say they were blue.

Her favorite song was Tiffany's "Could've Been" and that's a bit more poignant than I want to dwell on right now.

In the dream, she was a child of about 8 or 9. In the dream, we had a special magic that we used once a year around Christmas to make an extra-special holiday for our family. It was the kind of magic that, if you told anyone about it, you would lose it. The woman we met through that magic knew my daughter. She spoke of her--her favorite places, her favorite things--and sparked a search. I wanted to find my daughter, to see her, to hold her--but I just kept missing her. I'd talk to people who had seen her.

But then, suddenly, she was right in front of me.

She crawled into my lap and let me hold her. And I was crying, just like I am right now. I knew in my heart this moment could not last. God had granted me a brief time with her. She knew it, too. That's when she asked me to sing for her. And I did, in my broken, emotion-choked voice.


I understand now, that while our time on earth was so brief, she's up there in Heaven waiting for me. She is a part of my family. She is a part of my eternal life.

And I can't wait to hold her again.

1 comment:

Angie said...

That's so sweet, Cheri. Thanks for sharing.

There was an error in this gadget