Abigaile - on the Seashore of Remembrance

At 8:00 this morning, I saw an email come through, a special one that I have been anticipating for many weeks. I was so anxious to see the photo attached to the email, but due to my busy day and some technology challenges, I could not actually view the photo until I was home and able to get onto my personal computer.

 

So at 11:00 tonight, I was finally able to open the email and view the breathtaking photo that one baby loss mama (CarlyMarie on her Seashore of Remembrance) used her incredible talents to make for another.  When it opened, I was not expecting the rush of emotion that filled me, making itself evident in the hot burning tears that immediately overflowed from my eyes and ran in rivers down my cheeks

Her name, Abigaile, beautifully drawn in the sand. Under a breathtaking sunset made up of hues of purple and pink (colors I would have dressed her in as a little girl, for as long as possible until she insisted that I let her choose her own clothes). I believe that God was thinking of us as He painted this particular sunset, knowing that her name would be drawn in the sand on this specific evening.

 

Her name, Abigaile, that I will never see written in childish scrawl as she learns to pen her letters.

 

Her name, Abigaile, which came to my heart so quickly after I learned, just hours before her arrival, that she was a girl.

 

Her name, Abigaile, which means The Father's Joy.

 

Her name, Abigaile, that I will never hear her spell in an adorable little girl's voice, 

A-B-I-G-A-I-L-E.

 

Her name, Abigaile, that I want to say so many more times per day than I do.

 

Her name, Abigaile, that I want to hear from the voices of those I love.

 

Her name, Abigaile, which will always be sacred to me.

 

Her name, Abigaile, forever imprinted in this breathtaking scene, by a fellow baby loss mama and a beautiful artist. Thank you, CarlyMarie, for this indescribable gift, from the bottom of my grieving mama's heart. You have given me a gift that truly can never be duplicated or replaced. I am humbled with gratitude to you. May your precious son Christian's legacy continue to live on in these beautiful names and drawings in the sand. This gift will be cherished for the rest of my life, until I meet my baby girl and hold her in my arms once more.

 

Abigaile.

Honoring Abbie today - 06/07/2013

Sometimes it's the little things...

I have taken lately to reading stories to each child individually before bed, in order to get some decent one-on-one time with each of them instead of spending the time refereeing disputes between them. So tonight, after Josiah was all tucked in, I went into Isabel's ready for the normal routine of one story, a Bible story/devotion, and tucking in.

I quietly enter her room and she is engrossed in American Girl doll play, mostly getting the doll (McKenna) ready for bed, choosing what she will wear, how she will lay in the bunk bed, etc. And it causes me to realize how much Isabel and Abbie would have loved playing with dolls together someday. And as I watch Isabel be a "big sister" to McKenna (she rarely plays mommy to her dolls but always announces that I am the mommy to both of them and she is the big sister), I also think how much she would have enjoyed being a real big sister to Abbie. So, as I watch my first daughter and ache for my second, I once again experience opposing emotions simultaneously. Joy and sadness, fullness and emptiness, celebration and grief.

So, Abbie, how did I honor your life today? By sitting down on the floor with your big sister, and playing with her and her dolls. We embraced the moment, broke from the routine, and I could feel you there with us. I read something wise recently about how your children are only this age for a moment. In an hour, they will be an hour older, and tomorrow, they will be a day older. Our time with you was too short, precious girl, and so until we meet again, I am going to cherish as many moments with my children here on earth as possible. At one point during our play, Isabel looked up at me and said, "I love you, mama. The most." Oh how I wish I had been able to hear you say those word someday. So because you can't say it to me, I will say it to you. I love you, Abigaile Grace. And I will make sure you are not forgotten.