Friday, December 20, 2013

One Year Later

Tomorrow is December 21.  That date will always mark our firstborn's homegoing! Two poems mark a little of how I felt/feel over the past year.  Let's start there!

Little One Loved

Little one loved,
  we wanted you so very much,
even though we never touched
     your tender skin,
     or held your hand.
You were in our hearts,
     little one loved.

Little one loved,
  We never saw your tiny form,
and never held you, small and warm,
     within our arms,
     safe from all harm.
But you were our child, 
     little one loved.

Little one loved,
  but loved by god far more than we,
and so He took you home to be
     with Him to stay.
     You went away
and left us grieving here,  
     little one loved.

Little one loved,
  we wish you could have stayed with us,
but God is asking for our trust.
     Sometimes we cry,
     we question why.
To us, you'll always be 
     our little one loved...

Our little one...
     gone home.

Due Date

My sweet baby,
     it hurts knowing that 
       with the sunset of this day,
     your final chapter of life is written.
This is the day
        you were scheduled to arrive,
     but you came far too soon to stay.

My heart aches
     with the pain of allowing
my baby to become
     nothing more than a memory.
It feels like betrayal 
     to pack up those shattered dreams
and open the new ones
          waiting for us.

Why should my child be forgotten?
        Is not even a sparrow
          due the notice of the Father?
Sweet child, I will always remember
     your short stay with us - 
       as long as I live,
     you will not be one of the forgotten.

Dear God, forgive me.
       I know You hold my baby's soul
     close to Your heart,
          preserved for all eternity.
I just fear the thought 
     of letting go and moving on,
          for it closes the door
       between me and my child. 

I must let go.  I must move on.
     Ahead there awaits
a brand new little life
     and new untarnished dreams.

Know this, Dear One:
       the pain of knowing you will fade,
   but the anticipation of meeting you 
          grows brighter every day.  

Both of these poems are compliments of Stephanie Leinbach from her book "Light my Candle"--a book I shed many tears over as I read through it.

While tomorrow would not have been my due date--it does express the idea of moving on and embracing the next stage of life.

To my own little one:  You will never be forgotten--You will always be my firstborn--whether there ever was a real baby or not--I don't know and never will, but I am comforted by the idea of you being in heaven playing together with all of my friends' babies who have gone before their time to the Other Side and are enjoying being in the presence of Jesus.  I love you my precious child and I look forward to the day that I can meet you face to face.

It's been a hard year--it's been a growing year.  I have much more sympathy for those who lose babies now than I ever did, but I think I have less to say to them now than I ever did.  And for those of you who cared, a deep heartfelt thank you--words could not express how I/we felt.  There were tears--often at the most unexpected times and unplanned for times, but they came regardless.  Grief and pain and tears are no respecter of persons or place--it can come on you with now warning.   Simple words, a newborn baby, the announcement of a pending little arrival--all these things can stir the rivers of grief and tears.  It can be healing though.  For me, I had no idea how much I loved and wanted my little baby until he was taken away.  And now as I look at having a spring baby, I realize how much I simply need to trust and let God be in control.  I can work myself into tears imagining the worst case scenarios. Vivid imaginations and a nursing degree are not very beneficial always to the trust factor.  I must trust------

And now I have made myself vulnerable and open.


  1. Well said sister! Not only has this year made you care more deeply it has also made you sister love and care in a very different way. - Vivian

  2. Love you and Blessings to you for writing.

  3. Maybe your little one is now playing with he or she's aunt or uncle of 48 years ago. It's a good thought.

  4. that was very special.. maybe our babys are playing together. I have two there.


A Rumored Fortune by Joanna Davidson Politano

A hidden fortune, a supposedly dead man, and a new vineyard manager all greet the hurried return of Tressa Harlowe back to her estate in t...