For some, Christmas is a wonderful and joyful time, filled with family and friends and many fun festivities. For many, though, Christmas holds a mix of emotions including joy and pain. The mix of emotions is certainly true for our household. During the merriment and fun with our two children there is the reminder of two others who are not with us this Christmas. On our beautifully lit and decorated tree is an ornament placed annually as a testament to their absence.
Even as I'm preparing this post and writing these things out, the emotions rise and tears flow as they always do when I get close to this subject . . .
The loss of loved ones comes in many different forms and with this holiday having such a family element to it, it is almost impossible to not experience some of the weightiness amid the joy. Honestly though, I remind myself that in some ways, this should not really be a surprise, for even the wonder and joy of the very first Christmas was the foreshadowing of suffering and death. The One Who at His birth would be named, "Jesus, for He will save His people from their sins" (Matthew 1:21) inherently was marked for death that He might be "pierced through for our transgressions, and crushed for our iniquities" (Isaiah 53:5). And yet, our own losses still hurt.
For our family, this hurt came in the form of miscarriage . . .
Two years ago, at this time of year with the holidays and after almost a year of infertility, we innocently and excitedly planning for our third child, were informed by our doctor that our little one had no heart beat and was not with us any longer.
We were hurting and I was devastated that I was wrestling with God and my feeble understanding of Him in ways I would have never dreamed before this. Two months later, certainly not done grieving, but we could at least see our way through the haze more often than not, Jennie and I had our own little memorial service together. Having no body to bury or any great entourage of people who knew to be able to comfort us, we thought this was the best way to help provide some closure and together turn this over to the Lord. As a part of that time, we each wrote up some thoughts we shared together. I chose to write mine as a letter to my departed child. It seemed most fitting to in some way recognize their personhood though they never took a breath in this world and continue to allow me to walk through much of what I had begun to process over those two months.
Below is some of what I wrote and with Jennie's permission would like to share with you. One month out and it was still raw and even rereading it for this post, I again feel it fully. My hope though in reentering into this personally and inviting you into my grief is two-fold:
First, if you are hurting during this holiday season or have experienced something similar, I want you to know you are not alone and it is okay to carry that with you. God always uses the hardest things in our life to make us the most of who He wants us to be in Christ. Rather than reject the refiners fire, it is our greatest joy and wisdom to embrace that which burns and purifies us so.
Second, for both my sake and yours, I want to bring us back to the truths we can cling to even as we suffer in loss. Psalm 119:6-7, "Before I was afflicted I went astray, but now I keep your word. You are good and do good; Teach me your statutes . . . It is good for me that I was afflicted, That I may learn your statutes."
Memorial Thoughts (2/5/22)
What would it be like if you had been born in August 2021? You would have been just shy of three years younger than your sister. You would have been a fifth little body in a high chair around our table, a fifth joyous smiling face, a fifth loud voice adding to the chaos of our dinner table. You would have been the third hug for daddy in the morning, a third child to rock and then lean over the crib to give a kiss to each night . . . I would have loved to see you interact with your brother and sister, see them know and get to know you in ways they'll never understand or know they missed out on at their ages.
I was tempted to start this paragraph by stating, "we thought you were," but truly this is how it should be worded . . . You were the answer to Mommy and Daddy's hopes and prayers for another child we'd been trying to have for a year unsuccessfully, we just only experienced the blessing of that answer in you very briefly.
I know we'll never know what gender you were, and yet when I think of holding your little fetal form in the palm of my hand I envision a boy, everything else I dream of is a little girl . . . a bright eyed, beautiful little one in a pink dress dancing around the kitchen with Daddy like I do with your sister. I picture tea times with you and her, I envision getting to walk you down the aisle and give you away with a big hug and kiss . . .
Early on when Mommy and I first found out we probably had lost you, one of the only things I could do as an act of prayer to God and trust in hopes of your life possibly being restored to us was to think of names for you. We (me and Mommy) want all our kids' names to have meaning, something to live toward. That's how I was raised and what I was often reminded of by Grandma. I came up with two names for you . . . maybe a first and middle name . . .
Anastasia - from the Greek "anastasis" for resurrection and thus my greatest hope while we waited for that second sono.
Teras (or maybe Teresa) - from a Greek origin, in English it is defined as "an organism (as a fetus) that is grossly abnormal in structure due to genetic or developmental causes," or "A malformed fetus with deficient, redundant, misplaced, or misshapen parts." In Greek it is also often translated as a "sign" or "wonder" like what God showed to Pharaoh in Egypt to prove His power in Exodus. That was also my prayer for you . . . that God would take your broken fetal body and make you a sign of His great power by healing, or even for the stage we were at, resurrecting you.
I so badly wanted those names to be true for you . . .
I told Mommy, maybe it would be harder to have lost you after seeing and holding you, but man, I would have loved to hold you . . . even if you'd already left us in spirit . . . right after I got off the facetime call with Mommy when we found out we'd probably lost you, I went over to the little stocking we had to give to each set of grandparents to excitedly tell them about you and I just held it and cried . . . cried so deeply from within myself . . . it hurt so much to lose you. It felt weird and wrong to think that the only thing you had to your name in this world was a $.50, tiny, poorly made, Christmas stocking bought in a pair from the dollar store. :( You are worth everything to us and we would have gladly given all our worldly possessions up if it would have meant we could have had you!
I like word pictures and plays . . . I take after your Great Grandpa Smith in that, but a few statements that strike me as so sadly picturesque as I pondered this . . .
Miscarriage Memorial
When the Womb becomes a Tomb
Then came the further medical decisions and with them an emotional deadness inside that led to great hurt at both your loss and the thoughts of all that would entail while still wanting to recognize your personhood. You are of infinite, eternal value to God and also to me and Mommy! We love you soooo much!
Overtime I've realized part of what hurt was not getting to touch you and let you know my physical love and affection, part of what hurt was not being able to protect you, especially in thinking about all that followed after initially losing you, and part of what hurt was all the hopes and dreams you had brought. . . things so subtle and subliminal I would have never realized I even had them till you were gone. I told Mommy, I don't know how it's possible to miss someone you've never really met and has only been alive for two months, but man I did, I do, and I will always miss you!
I love you my dear sweet Anastasia! I rejoice in the resurrection, trusting a good God that I will be satisfied with His actions both now and for eternity, but hoping that I will get to meet and know you . . . do life with you for eternity in ways I won't have in this lifetime.
Let me add one more thing . . . God has brought good from this. I wasn't always very sure of that, but now a little further out, can say it is true. I don't know fully what all that entails, but it has been so good to see Romans 8:28 is followed by Romans 8:32 where God has proved this is for all our good. His whole plan and every action can be trusted looking through the lens of Christ's death on our behalf. One other noticed good that has come from this is it has united me and mommy even closer. Our loss of you has forced us to grieve all the deeper with each other and find an even better companion and greater solace in each other than we would have known.
We still miss you, but we walk by faith and are thankful for the blessing you have been, even ever so briefly in our lives!
Love always,
Daddy
This side of eternity I will never understand this loss fully, nor will I ever be able to fully separate myself from it (not that I should or even want to). There is and will always be a deep hurt there. But in the deep hurt, there is also, by God's grace, a deeper hope.
God both used and still uses His Word and His people so much now and during that time to draw me to Himself. Even in the long days and weeks where He felt so far away, the truth is, He was always drawing me closer to Himself. I would never have known Him in ways I do now outside of Him coming to me in my pain and again, how much this is embodied in Christmas . . . The Savior coming to those lost . . .
"The people who walk in darkness Will see a great light; Those who live in a dark land, The light will shine on them . . . For a child will be born to us, a son will be given to us; And the government will rest on His shoulders; And His name will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Eternal Father, Prince of Peace" (Isaiah 9:2 and 6).
Our Savior entered our world that He might free us and draw us out of it to true life in Him. He took on our mess, got dirty with our sin, suffered the pain we deserved, and died the death that should have been ours.
"And the Word became flesh, and dwelt among us," (John 1:14)
"He made Him who knew no sin to be sin on our behalf, so that we might become the righteousness of God in Him" (2 Corinthians 5:21)
"For He rescued us from the domain of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of His beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins . . . For by Him all things were created, both in the heavens and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities - all things have been created through Him and for Him . . . He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, so that He Himself will come to have first place in everything. For it was the Father's good pleasure for all the fullness to dwell in Him, and through Him to reconcile all things to Himself, having made peace through the blood of His cross; . . . " (Colossians 1:13-20).
That is and has to be my hope this and every Christmas in both the joy and the pain. Christ the babe, my Savior and King.
So here I, and hopefully you with me, stand having tasted of loss in the midst of a season of joy. Able through our great God to hurt and yet rejoice in the midst of pain because of Him.
This song came to mind as I was writing this and so I will close with the lyrics to it:
Come Thou Long Expected Jesus
Born to set Thy people free;
From our fears and sins release us,
Let us find our rest in Thee.
Israel's strength and consolation,
Hope of all the earth Thou art;
Dear desire of every nation,
Joy of every longing heart.
May the Lord grant you the fullness of His joy and peace as you enter into this season and all it entails in your life!
- Phil
P.S. As a point of hope for us after all this, God has again decided to bless us with a little one in the womb over this season this year . . . a girl :). We are encouraged and excited, yet holding far more loosely to this child, seeing her as the Lord's (like all our kids) and trusting Him to do what is good and best whether we get a few more days and weeks or the rest of our lives with her.