Today is the day another baby will get his wings, unless God sees fit for miracle. Sara-Rae and her family have been on my mind so much these days. As we have been emailing back and forth, it has taken me back to our few short days with our precious Angel Baby…our sweet Jaxon.
I am still not sure exactly what has left me feeling so conflicted this time around. I have met other parents who have lost their child.
Is it just that intense desire of wishing to take this pain away for her? Because I do. I remember everyone wishing they could do that for us.
Is it the anxiety over knowing so many of the feelings she is experiencing? Because I am pretty sure I do. It reminds me of how empty I felt when we had to wait…knowing we would have to deliver our son and never see his eyes open, hear his cry, feel his fingers wrap around ours.
Is it that somewhere deep down I am hoping for a miracle? Because I am. Even when they told us Jaxon’s heart had stopped beating, we still prayed for one. We still secretly hoped they were ALL wrong and that we would hear that beloved cry.
Is it the tinge of envy I feel that Sara-Rae will get a few moments or hours with her son? Because I do feel it. Maybe she will get to see his eyes open – I so desperately wanted that. I think I know how big and gorgeous they would have been.
I don’t know. I don’t have the answer.
In processing my thoughts and feelings, I go back to the conversations One Daddy and I have when we meet parents that have lost a baby…
Which is easier? Is it easier to never see your babies eyes open? Is it easier to not really know what you will miss?
Or is it harder? To just know your child that much better and thus, know what you will miss.
When you lose a baby to a miscarriage or a stillbirth, that feeling of “Did that really happen?” seems a bit harder to come to terms with. For us, I felt Jaxon move on Friday night, woke up on Saturday morning to not feel him, and a few hours later learned he had passed away. We had his memorial on Wednesday morning and that was the last time we saw his precious little body. We prepared for his birth and life with us for over eight months and four days later, he was gone.
So after all of this, I still can’t put my finger on exactly what it is. It may be everything rolled into one. Regardless, Sara-Rae, please know that we are praying for you and your family, praying for your son, and that somewhere deep down, we are still praying for a miracle for you.
If you have found this post and have lost a child to a miscarriage, stillbirth, or after birth, please leave a comment. Share your story, your Angel, your memories. Share them so that as others find this, they all know that they are not alone.