My oldest and I had a rare opportunity to be in the car alone for an extended period of time. You see, my daughters attend dance classes at a dance studio in a different town than we live in. The reason for this is because I know and love the owner of the studio very dearly. Normally my husband would take the oldest to dance but some plans got changed and I got to take her.

There wasn’t much talk on the way there. In fact we just listened to music.

On the way home she throw me a curve ball.

“Mama, how can you miss somebody so bad that you never even met?”

What?

I asked what she meant and she told me how she really missed Emma. Emma would be a couple years older than Zoey, she died in utero. She’s the only child I lost that I ever sat down and talked with my children about because she’s the one that I was the furthest along with, the one that got buried, and when Zoey was little and would be at the cemetery with me I know it was confusing for her. Sometimes I’d tell her about her “big” sister (since she’d be older), but other times, without thinking it through, I’d tell her about her “baby” sister (since she was and will always be a baby). It’s confusing for our children; because it’s confusing for us, mamas, too.

She told me how she missed her and wished she’d gotten to know her. As we drove home tears were streaming down my face. It wasn’t because I was sad that we were talking about it, but because as parents we can feel lost when we don’t know how to comfort our own hurting children, especially when we would trade – for anything – to just take away any heartache they’re experiencing. All I could say was that I wished she’d gotten to know her, too. Because what do you say at times like that when you don’t have the words?

It made my heart happy, though. It fills my heart with joy to remember my babies . . . it makes me happy to hear their names.

Thinking about that statement I just made now, “It wasn’t because I was sad that we were talking about it, but because as parents we can feel lost when we don’t know how to comfort our own hurting children, especially when we would trade – for anything – to just take away any heartache they’re experiencing. . . I’m sure glad that I have a Father in Heaven who doesn’t feel that way. He never feels lost. He’s never incapable or unsure of how to comfort His own hurting children, He’s waiting for us to come to Him and lay down our hurts and give it all to Him; to surrender. He would trade anything – He DID trade, GAVE, rather, – everything, to take away the heartache we’re experiencing, by giving us a way to be reconciled to Him and to have a relationship with Him through His Son, Jesus Christ, by the sacrifice on the Cross.

Emma got brought back up again a couple days later.

A few days ago we were sitting around the dinner table and were talking with Posie, my youngest daughter, and listening to her talk about her best friend. She has some trouble with speech and we were helping her with the name of her “best friend”.  We were trying to help her pronounce his first name and when she didn’t get it out clearly we asked if she could say, “L.J.” She just smiled. I asked, “Isn’t that neat that his initials are LJ and yours are RJ?” Well that started a new conversation. My oldest started asking what she was almost named and what other names her sister would’ve been named. I told her that I actually named Rosalie the wrong name, that I was crazy about the name Rosalia, but I was a little influenced (or tired) from the medications from the c-section, and not really thinking it through, and by the time I’d gotten her birth certificate and saw that I named her Rosalie instead of Rosalia, I was use to the sound of Rosalie, we were already calling her Rosie Posie by then, and it was just meant to be. She was also nearly named Emma Leigh or Emmy Leigh (I love – LOVE –  the name Emma, Emmy, and Emily and thought if I named her Emma Leigh I’d be able to call her “Emily” and still get the “Lee” for a middle name, I wanted her to be named after a family member on her fathers side, and still get to call her Emmy, which is what I wanted, but since my first daughter was named Emma Marie, I couldn’t bring myself to do that. She was almost named Gabrielle or Gabriella, a Rory, and a Lorelai as well.) I decided to go with the initials RJ after my aunt, who also had the initials RJ, passed away unexpectedly.

After the kids went to bed, I sat there looking through old pictures and thinking. I kept thinking. I kept wondering . . . wondering how things might’ve been, who those lil’ people might be today . . . and all I could do was break down and cry.

It sure felt good.

When I was done and dried my face, all I could think was, it sure does help me to cry. 

. . . it sure does help me to cry . . . it sure does help me to remember . . . it reminds me that I’m not in control. It reminds me that I never was. It reminds me that life is precious. It reminds me that I am stronger today than I was yesterday. It reminds me that when I’m scared because the pain is too great and I don’t think I can go on – well I thought the same thing yesterday – but I’m still here . . . some days I may walk and some I may crawl, but I’m still here. It reminds me to be kinder today than I was yesterday; because nobody saw my hurt and I probably didn’t see theirs. We really don’t know what personal hardships others are going through. Mostly it helps me to turn back to the One that breathed life into me.

“But pain insists upon being attended to. God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: It is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world.” –C.S. Lewis

“Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.” Galatians 6:2