Bittersweet

Today I learned of the 3rd baby who was taken back to Father in Heaven in 3 weeks. Maybe it is because I am 'driving' the same car as them. I don't know. This post is for them.

The road is long. I do not in any way shape of form wish I could go back to those grueling, emotionally, physically draining first few hours, days, weeks, months. It is painful. There are sleepless nights. There are countless buckets of tears. These poor mothers and fathers and siblings who are just starting out on the road of grief. I hope they are strong enough. I hope they can make it. I hope that they can hold on to the thread of faith and that their faith will grow and they will not fall away. I hope that they will hold on for dear life to the teachings they have been taught all their lives. I pray for them. I cry with them.

Today I also learned that one of the 'Daxton boxes' was used. A blanket was given. A stuffed animal was given. A camera was used. A difference albeit ever so miniscule was made in the life of a grieving mother. The blanket was to wrap her precious baby in because in all the hurry to get her sweet child to the hospital she didn't grab his favorite blankie (or maybe she did, but she didn't want to leave it, she wanted to take it home and snuggle it, smell it, pray it wasn't so). The stuffed animal was given so that when she left her baby in the arms of the nurse, hers wouldn't be 'empty.' The camera was used because maybe, just maybe one day she will be ready to face the reality of what is happening and be able to remember those last precious moments she held her son.