Emily ~ 2 months
I know I am hormonal. I know we are quickly approaching the time of year when Emily first got sick. I know I will see her again. My brain can think quite logically about all this. But my heart hurts, and for some reason,
my heart always wins out over my brain.
One of the most difficult aspects of grief I’ve had to contend with are the flashbacks. The other day I was holding Garin and nuzzled down against his little head. Despite the fact this little guy has very little hair, I was immediately transported to the days I spent burying my face in Emily’s mop of brown hair as I held her. I could do nothing but stand there and weep.
In fact, of late, it has taken very little to bring me to tears. I know much of it has to do with the fact that there will always be one less, no matter how many more children I have. The fact that the world does not see her does not stop me from seeing her all the time. The flashbacks are no longer as painful as they once were and the tears do not drown me for hours as they once did, but they are still strong enough to stop me in my tracks and make me wonder for a moment in time how I will ever continue to go on without her.
That is one strange phenomena of grief. You can be sailing calm seas, feeling at peace with your loss, and then suddenly be tossed into a raging river of emotion that nearly drowns you. Sometimes you are prepared for it…like the day I first drove past the hospital where Emily died. Sometimes you are not…like when I nuzzled little Garin’s head.
Every grieving parent I know finds their child’s memory is never far from them. I hate that each minute that passes is another minute without her, yet, I must continue to focus on the fact that each minute that passes is another minute closer to her. Yes, the waters are rough here, but someday I will cry no more.
Jess says
Moments before he raised Lazarus, Jesus wept. Yes, we know we will see them again, but it is right to weep sometimes.
Samantha says
My first child, miscarried at 8 weeks, was named Lazarus, because we did pray for resurrection, unsuccessfully, at least on this earth. He certainly is alive and well now, in Heaven.
Conversatio in Caelis says
Your post deeply moved me. I know this moments when grief hits you unexpectedly. Praying for you.
Aron says
I am so very sorry for your loss Amy. Big cyber hugs ((((hugs))))
Queen of the Butterfly Ball says
Amy, I am so, so sorry. I would love to say that someday it will be easier, but I don’t know that. I am so very sorry though, and my mother’s heart cries out to God for you. I have no words, but I am praying.
~Rachel
Marla says
Amy,my heart aches for you!You are in my thoughts ,and prayers.I can not imagine your loss!We lost our nephew at 21 years old.I see,and feel the pain always!Blessings,marla Grace
Annie @ Beauty In The Surrender says
Amy, although I have never experienced the loss of a child and could never understand your pain, I am always touched so deeply when you write on this area of your life.
You mentioned how there will always be one less. My mother lost our sister at a young age in 1990 and even to this day when asked how many children she has, she will always say 4 even though one is not here.
Thank you for sharing this very personal part of your life. Blessings?
Amanda says
Amy, I read Emily’s story the other day for the first time and I just wept myself, because my own grief is so raw still. You put it perfectly into words when you said the world does not see how many children you see. I’m very guilty of saying I have 4 children instead of 3 all the time and then people ask and then they get “all sappy” on me, which is not what I want, so then I feel bad for saying I had 4 in the first place. I’m so very proud of my little Hannah Elizabeth and how much a fighter she was, and people just want to feel sorry for me and that’s not what I want either. It’s so hard to explain, but I’m constantly encouraged by you and know that you and I are in the same boat. We just recently had a new baby too, which I call my saving grace, but my husband struggled with having her for a long time because he felt like we were trying to replace Hannah. He now knows and as I’m sure you do too, you can never, ever replace a child with a new child. God blesses us so much with these beautiful little beings no matter how many we have our love for each and everyone is different!!!!
Amy says
Amanda,
Both my husband and I tell people we have 7 children. There are times when it is appropriate to explain further, but most of the time we leave it at that. We DO have 7 children. {{hugs}}
Lauree says
I have no words Amy other than I am sorry! Praying for you as you work through these unexpected rough spots!
Rachel says
Oh, my dear friend, I am praying for you.
Amy says
Amy, I am so sorry for your loss. I have not experienced this type of grief, but I have people very close to me who have. You may already know Stephanie through blogs, but if you don’t, please visit:
http://www.carriedthroughgrief.blogspot.com
I have several buttons on my blog, including the link above to sites where mothers share and offer resourses and prayers.
Rebecca says
Amy, my heart goes out to you. I have not lost a child I have held…one I did not get the chance to hold. I watched my parents bury my oldest brother, their first born…and I recently watched a young couple bury their 7 year old daughter. The grief, the depth of it….so deep, taking away the breath of those touched by children, their own children….is heart-breaking. As a sibling, who grew up in the shadow of a brother who died, my heart goes out to you and your other children. I saw my parents greive and grieve…and my heart yearned for them to find peace and love through me and my other brother. This life can be so hard, I pray for you…for your family, your children, for God’s peace and love to overwhelm you and help sooth the piece of puzzle your sweet little girl took with her. One day, we will all be reunited. My Mother is now with my brother and my first unborn baby…and I am left here, loving my children and yearning for the day…we are all reunited. Until then, taking each sweet breath….some with and some without tears.
Holly says
Your words are so true
Fruitful Harvest says
Much Love and prayers to you Amy!
Emily is beautiful!
(((((HUGS))))))
Your blog friend,
Georgiann
Nicki says
Amy,
Big hugs to you…I wouldn’t even blame it on hormones. You suffered the biggest loss that I can even BEGIN to imagine. You lost something more precious than anything in this world. I will say some extra prayers for peace over you. Just think of the day when you will be able to snuggle into Emily’s sweet “mop of hair” again! How wonderful will that day be!
Much love,
Nicki
Gayle says
Oh Amy. I read your story a month or so ago and just cried. I can’t imagine your pain as a Mama.
I know of a precious lady who lost her 2 year old to an accident back in the spring, and I think I’m going to send her your way.
God bless all of you who have this, the hardest of trials, on this earth.
Laura (kidsmomofmany) says
Crying with you Amy. Yes, I say we have “six living children” and then elaborate sometimes. I’ll never forget Emmy.
Lisa~ says
I thought of you today. All of our friends here in town are praying for a local, young, first time mother whose baby (born yesterday full term) had oxygen deprivation and is not going to survive. As I type through tears they are spending their last few moments with their baby. My heart breaks for them. The community mourns with them. It is so raw. Your post is so touching and tender. Thank you for knowing that it is OK to share. With much love, Lisa~
Tami says
Amy… 🙁 Praying for you. Seeing Emily’s sweet picture made me sad that she isn’t here – I can’t imagine how much you miss her and ache for her presence. Your tears are precious to the Lord; He sees each one, and doesn’t think that your head should be winning over your heart. Jesus wept with Lazarus’ sisters – even though He knew with His head that their grief was very temporary. He weeps with you also.
Brandy says
I’m crying with you, Amy. Sending big hugs your way …
Clara says
🙁 I’m so sorry to hear of your sadness. I pray the Lord surrounds you with His comfort and peace at this time…
Something my aunt told me that has helped me with the grief of losing my mother young is that when big life changes happen (like moving house or having another child or getting married or anything!), it will often bring back memories of past grief (like your loss of Emily). Sometimes it will happen right away, sometimes a little after the big life-changing event… But if we can be aware that it WILL probably happen, we can be better prepared and equipped for those moments, and not feel like something is wrong with us for feeling that way (even if the life changing event currently happening is not a sad one)! I don’t know if this helps or not, but it has helped me with the loss of my mother (which I know is different to losing a child, but the only way I can relate to your grief).
Molly says
I love the promise of Heaven, and seeing our loved ones on that Shore. When I was 22, I came home from nursing school and found my husband dead. He had died from complication from a seizure. Weird and very rare, but God already had his days numbered, and that say was his last on earth/first in Heaven. Wow…those floods of grief ar hard, especially when you least expect it. It’s been over 11 years now, and I still have them occasionally. Not necessarily on his birthday, though he’s ever present on those special days…but it’s in the joys of life for me.
I am remarried, and living a a fairytale life, my hubby and I have a wonderful marriage and are expecting our 3rd biological baby…our 4th child. Two weeks ago after a heart ultrasound on the baby, it hit me that my first husband cannot see (or perhaps he can?) God’s mighty hand of blessing on my life. As I looked at my child’s ultrasound pictures, I missed my first husband so much…if I could only have 5 minutes with him….Oh, my goodness, he would be so happy I stayed close to the Lord, and followed His will for my life. I live a very blessed life, and am so in love with my husband, and so very thankful for the husband God called home, as I know that trial has made me a better wife. Grief is weird, and God is good.
Amy says
What a testimony, Molly! Thank you so much for sharing your story with me.
Helen says
We are fast approaching our third baby’s 13th angel anniversary. While the days have been mostly really good for the past few years, the ‘moments’ are never far away.
The grieving process is never really over. It just eventually gets tucked away… for most of the time.
Sending big hugs from North Carolina….
Jamie (@va_grown) says
I lost both of my parents in an accident in May 2006 when I was 27 and pregnant with our 2nd child. I know it’s not the same as what you’re struggling with, but it was so touching and soothing to read your grief posts and know that I’m not alone in living with the pain forever–even when no one else sees it.
I started blogging partly because I wanted to move forward in my life more intentionally, and partly because there are so many words about it that I want to get out. I haven’t been able to finish most of them, but your posts give me courage to keep writing and one day maybe I can face putting more of them out there.
I’m praying for you.
Samantha says
Hi Amy,
A sweet and caring friend recommended your blog thinking it might be helpful to me. She was right. Thank you for sharing your journey of grief over losing Emily Sofia.
I am still reeling from the loss of my second child. I miscarried Hudson at 13 weeks along. I had miscarried his brother, Mark Lazarus, 7 months earlier. I have never known what it is like to hold my own baby in my arms and then to have that baby die. Are stories are different. Still, your blog is ministering life to me, and helping to me to grieve. As I read your posts, healing tears flow in between bouts of holding my breath. I don’t know that I’m grieving well. Sometimes, I’m just going about my day as if I hadn’t just lost two pregnancies back to back. Other days my chest aches as if someone just snatched my babies from my chest. I don’t even think I know exactly how to grieve this loss. I wish I had an instruction manual. Anyway, I’m not quite sure where I’m going with all this rambling, but I guess I just wanted to say thank you. Thank you for your honesty, your vulnerability, your transparency. God bless you and your family.
Amy says
Samantha,
Hello dear. What you may not know from my posts is that I too have lost 2 babies to miscarriage at exactly the same weeks you have. They were not back to back and the last one was 7 years ago, but I remember very clearly the grief and pain. In fact, for the rest of my child-bearing years I will bear the scar. My innocence is lost because I no longer believe every pregnancy ends in a healthy child in my arms. Just as I no longer believe every child that is in my arms will get to stay there. I had to wrestle with emotions I had not expected to feel. I still do. So, I say all this to tell you I understand. I am so thankful; however, that the Lord has not me alone in this. He is there all the time and knows my fears and grief, just as He knows yours. So glad you are here. 🙂 {HUGS}
Samantha says
Yet again you’ve blessed me with a hug and encouragement to start the day. May you receive the same this morning or whenever you read this. Oh how I wish I knew you in person, but I will enjoy continuing as your blog follower friend.
Thanks again.
By the way, I love the name, Emily Sofia. I’ve heard Sofia means wisdom but what does Emily mean and how did you come to choose those names?
🙂
Amy says
Emily means “hard working” and it was a name my husband loved. Sofia was my contribution simply because I thought the name was beautiful. 🙂