Today was her due date, five years ago already. Uniquely, our son was due around the same time, one year later. Birthdays are a big deal for him. With grand expectations we’ve been preparing for tomorrow. “When it’s my birthday, I’m going to be four,” he says in a sing-songy way. His grin is bright and lovely. How thankful I am that this day is coming.
For today, though, I remember her *or him*. Sometimes I view our miscarriage more as an event than about a person. Even the blessed hope of the Resurrection, along with the sweet image of an angel placing EJ in my arms, is an event. Today I took time to recognize the CHILD we conceived. What she was, though her life had barely begun. She, a living being, was just as much alive as the other tykes running through the house.
I don’t desire to dwell long on these thoughts, but today I honored my daughter. This mommy took something to the little memorial where other grieving parents go to remember their tiny children. Flowers, toys and two cards filled the space. My camera filed this moment away, just after I texted my husband with the pic. Our memories unite deeply. The day progressed gently with opportunities to talk with two other moms about the children we miss.
Tonight I am satisfied. I feel peace about the way I got to spend the day–remembering not just a birthday, but my child.
Today is her day. Tomorrow is his. I am ready.
Welcome to Grace Notes for Moms: a new series of encouragement for mothers, who are also daughters of the King of Kings.
