Missing You

My dearest Samuel,

Today I am missing you as much as always, but more poignantly than ever.  God must want me to see more clearly the effects you've had in my life.  He must want me to remember more clearly all the love you brought into our lives.  Since last Friday, you have been on my mind and I've been seeing you in every detail of my life.

See, last Friday, little Savannah was born into this world.  It reminded me that you were supposed to be her playmate, her companion.  You were supposed to grow up with her and all of your St. Tommy's cousins.  When her mama, Amy, went into labor, I started praying so hard that she would have a smooth labor and delivery, and even more desperately I prayed that her baby be healthy.  I know you were praying, too, my son.  Thank you for praying.  I have to confess, though.  I felt a little silly praying for Savannah to be born healthy, for her mama to be kept safe.  After all, it's not really uncommon for moms to have a healthy baby...it really isn't.  But it still seemed necessary to ask God for those things because you've taught me just how delicate life really is.  How nature can sometimes get a little screwed up.  In fact, now I know that three out of four times nature does not screw up.  Three out of four times, a perfectly healthy baby is born.  But there's that chance--that one in four chance--that something could go wrong.

So, since Friday I have thanked God with all my heart that every one is doing well, that Savannah is doing well. When she was born, I felt your love once again.  So very strongly, Samuel.  Seeing the perfection of this new life reminded me of the perfection of yours.  I was reminded that with each new life God enters this world.  Whatever journey God has planned, we do not know.  But I am incredibly thankful that your prayers and ours were answered.  That everyone's hopes for this baby, for this new life, are off to an incredible start.  That Savannah and her mommy are safe, thriving and healthy.

Mama and baby :) 

But my gratitude does not come without sadness, of course.  I miss you terribly, Samuel.  I cannot help but wish that I had more than 12 days with you.  My heart is aching with an emptiness that seems like nothing but you can fill (yes, I logically understand and do believe that God can fill that emptiness...it's just a little more abstract that holding my sweet little boy).  I can't help but wish that you didn't have Trisomy 13.  That you could play with Savannah here on this Earth.  That I could see your eyes, hold your hands, rub my nose through your hair.  You would be 4 1/2 months old by now. You would be able to hold your head, laugh with me, enjoy all the colors the world has to offer. Perhaps you would be sitting, or at least getting very close. We would sing, dance, and go for runs in the Bob.  I probably would be making you a Halloween costume right now...my little pumpkin.

Grandma B made this little hat for Samuel's baby shower.

With a great sigh, my Samuel, I know these things were not meant for us.  I am reminded of God's plan over these past six days--welcoming little Savannah into this world, watching my nephew play with his father and grandfather, and playing with some of your other St. Tommy's cousins.  These children have reminded me to see God's face.  To see His love.  To feel His love.  I am reminded that our 12 days with you had incredible meaning: that was for us to know God through loving you.  To give us a greater sense of His ultimate plan for all of us--all of His children--to one day rejoin him in Heaven.  

Shortly after you died, just about when I started writing your story, Amy's cousin sent your daddy and I a little note.  We hadn't heard from him in several years, but his thoughtfulness was so perfect, so needed.  It wasn't much, just a short and sweet note sharing an article from Focus on the Family, and this video:

"You were born in a very special way. You are wonderfully made.  To me, you've always been and always will be perfectly full of potential.  You see, even a long life is short.  And a short life can be full of meaning." 

Dearest Samuel, your life--though a short one--was full of meaning.  You changed so many lives in your 12 days.  You shared God's love in a way I never realized possible.  Knowing how one small life can truly impact the world, I am encouraged and hopeful for the newest life among our family of friends, little Savannah.  Her life is beautiful.  It, too, is full of meaning.  It is full of potential and hope and joy.  She, too, will impact her world in a way that only God knows.  It is through this hope for Savannah that I am reminded of my own hope.  A hope that one day, Samuel, you will have a brother or sister. A hope that one day our family will continue to grow so that your love and the love of God will grow within our family.  I thank God every day for that hope for new life--hope inspired by new life.

You are so loved, my little boy.  I will always love you.  Always have a space in my heart for you. May I have the strength to share that love with others through the rest of my life.

With much love,
Mom