Recently, twelve of our patients were lucky enough to go on a trip called Bert's Big Adventure. This is a trip down to Disney World sponsored by a local morning radio show's foundation. For five days, these families get to forget about daily struggles with their children's illnesses and just be families in Disney World. On the last day of the trip, the parents are asked by the radio station to write a letter to their child describing how much he or she means to them and read it on the air. Each year, these letters are so touching and usually evoke some tears from anyone that has a heart, but this year- I felt myself listening from a different perspective.. which is that of a mom. While my children are not here with me, I know they are with Jesus waiting on us together. I was originally going to write this in my journal, but after I've gotten so many responses to previous posts from readers who are going through or have gone through the same thing- I figured I would make it public in hopes that it would inspire others to do the same.
My sweet babies,
I know that we never got to meet, but that doesn't change the fact that you both are now a permanent part of our lives. I don't know if your nurseries would have been filled with ribbons and bows or trucks and dinosaurs- or perhaps one with each. I don't know if your hair is dark like mine or blonde like your dad's... or perhaps red. I don't know if you would've been good sleepers or up all night- if you are anything like your dad and me... I would bet on good sleepers. I don't know what your favorite foods would have been and what foods would have ended up sprayed on our faces. I don't know what our bedtime routine would have been or your favorites songs. I don't know if we would've visited the princesses or the pirates on our trips to Disney World. I don't know if all of our money and Saturdays would have been devoted to baseball, soccer, golf.. or perhaps dance and cheerleading. I don't know if you would've been punctual rule followers like me or spontaneous with a hunger for adventure like your dad. I don't know if you would've been good at math like your dad or good at history and english like me. I don't know where you would've gone to school, but I know we would've wholeheartedly supported you... even if it wasn't Clemson (don't tell dad). I don't know if you would've been doctors, or teachers or climbed the corporate ladder... or perhaps gone into ministry. I don't know if you would've met the loves of your lives in college or church... or in high school like your dad and me.
There are a lot of things I don't know- but I can tell you what I do know. I know that you are loved. You've taught us just how big our God is and how He loves us right where we're at. You've taught us that we won't be perfect parents, but we'll be better parents because of both of you. I know not to sweat the small stuff- that it will be ok if our house is messy and loud because it will be full of life. When your younger siblings come along, we will know to not take one single second with them for granted- because we'll recognize just how big of a miracle they are. When we're sleep deprived because your brothers or sisters are crying all night- we'll look at each other and remember the road we've traveled and how extraordinarily grateful we are to have them in our arms. When they're old enough, we'll tell them about both of you and how they will get to meet you too one day.
There are a lot of things that I don't know- but I do know that our God is faithful and He will see us through this. He thought both of you would serve a greater purpose with Him than here with us. We know we will get to meet you one day. Until that time, we miss you more than you know and love you very much.