Prayers Please

In a matter of a week, I know of 3 families that have lost their babies. To Trea, Tiffany and Robin (and their families)...

I know exactly how you are feeling, yet I don't know what to say... Really words are not enough when you've lost part of your life. I remember seeing my belly still so full, but knowing that Claire and Gracie were no longer there. And somehow, as a mom, I was the one that was supposed to keep them safe and didn't. It was like my body was reminding me of it everyday. All the kind words were nice, but didn't fill the emptiness of my womb.

I still miss my girls everyday... sometimes it brings me to sobbing tears, but sometimes it makes me smile too because of the lessons that they have taught me.

I really think David said it best in a note he sent to someone (we love):

This Christmas we are again left with an empty void in our lives as our children are no longer with us. While we understand that there are those less fortunate than us in the world, it's hard to imagine a pain greater than having our children die. What unnaturatility is it that a father outlives his children? What cruel and punishing world would allow an unwanting person to be with child while mine dies? Why should I continue to care?

My first desire is to strike out at those around me. To tell everyone to go to hell, besides, what the hell do they know? This pain is beyond what a normal person should have to endure.

At this point, what options do I have? I can choose to despise the world I live in, loath those beside me who have 'easily' had their children, and hate the stupid people around me who have no idea what it's like to lose their child. 'I understand' is such a simplistic and meaningless phrase that only an idiot should be allowed to say it.

On the other hand, I can choose to love those around me. While the pain burns inside me, I can use that pain to understand the strife that others go through. This brings an empathy that allows me to see the anguish that the poor or the malnourished go through on a daily basis. This empathy can only be seen by those who have suffered and allows us to see those 'others' in a new light and be understanding of their plight.

Don't get me wrong, this pain doesn't go away. In fact, it only burns deeper at times. My children are now 2 years old, but in the eyes of man are now buried.


I don't know the answers for the families that have lost... I can't offer them a rosy world that will somehow spring to life in the next month, years. I can offer them an ear, a shoulder to lean on, a heart that knows the pain they're feeling. It may not be much, but it's what I have.