One Day at Suppertime (comment)

I have been doing really well lately. When my son pulled up on the shelf next to our bed and pointed to his sister's picture and said, "that?" I was able to say with a steady voice, "that's your sister, honey."

I can think of my brief time with her in my arms and not weep, and I can believe honestly and hopefully of being reunited with her in heaven. I have been healing spiritually as well. I wasn't able to read my Bible or pray without losing it and feeling great anger toward God. But I'm back in a place of relationship with God, and while it's tentative and healing, it's real, and it's growing. So, I'm doing really well.

I had the epiphany that I was doing well, and then on Monday a friend of mine emailed to ask how I was doing because I's birthday had just passed. I wrote back to her and thanked her for asking, and I told her that meant so much to me that she remembered my little girl. In the process of writing this note, I burst into tears...and at that exact moment the new neighbor came over to introduce herself. She didn't ask, and I didn't share, but goodness, what must she think of me!

Then the next day I took my son to the pediatrician, and a new nurse came to give him his injections. We were chatting, and she asked if my son was my first...and I burst into tears. I don't know why it hit me at that exact moment. I explained to her why I was crying, and she started crying, too, and she told me she was also a babylost mama. Her baby boy died 23 year ago, and she still wept for him. She said, "you never get over it, honey. They will always be our babies." I think that we just learn how to live every day without suffocating in our grief, but there will always be those days, or those moments when we remember our babies and weep...and that will be okay.