Candlelight Service
"God gave us our memories so that we might have roses in December." -J.M. Barrie
Last night was the annual Christmas memorial service, held by the infant loss support group Labor of Love. This year we met at a new church - a much bigger church - to accommodate the growing number of families who attend to remember their precious babies. Which is pretty sad when you think about it.
The church was gorgeous. Beautiful stained glass windows, and tall wooden pews. The perfect place to sing "Silent Night" and "Away in a Manger," which both have new meaning to me since losing Gabriel.
At some point yesterday morning, I knew I was going to speak at the service. I have never shared at the Christmas service before, but something was telling me I had to do it. Truth be told, I spent a little bit of time going over my almost five years of blogging history, in the hopes that I would stumble upon some holiday-themed blog post, already written in perfect wisdom and grace. Ha! Sadly, there was no prior material to be used. I had to just sit down and write something new, genuine, and from the heart.
And just like most of my blog posts, the process moved very quickly. The words came pouring out of me, almost faster than the thoughts could form in my head. So, here's what I shared last night...
"I feel like I cannot adequately express with words how comforting it is to be in a room of people who understand the awful reality of losing a child. Grief is such a difficult, isolating event. And the loss of a baby goes against the natural order of life and death. So, if you're here to support someone in my shoes - thank you. Thank you for being here, to surround us in love and compassion.
I lost my little boy four years ago. We were given his fatal diagnosis when I was five months pregnant. We were urged to terminate his life, but we chose to carry him to term instead. While some people don't understand it - he's still a member of my family, even though he's not here with us. He's still my son, even though I cannot carry him in my arms. He's still a treasure that brings me joy, even though his loss brings me so much pain.
So, now here we are. Somewhere we never asked to be. Part of this exclusive club, where no one seeks membership. Let us at least be comforted in this - We will see our precious babies again someday. What a joyful day it will be, to see their little faces, to hold them in our arms, to finally feel complete. Until then, we will continue to speak their names, and remember them."
The theme for this year's service was "Angels Among Us." Enjoy this gorgeous version of the song:
Last night was the annual Christmas memorial service, held by the infant loss support group Labor of Love. This year we met at a new church - a much bigger church - to accommodate the growing number of families who attend to remember their precious babies. Which is pretty sad when you think about it.
The church was gorgeous. Beautiful stained glass windows, and tall wooden pews. The perfect place to sing "Silent Night" and "Away in a Manger," which both have new meaning to me since losing Gabriel.
At some point yesterday morning, I knew I was going to speak at the service. I have never shared at the Christmas service before, but something was telling me I had to do it. Truth be told, I spent a little bit of time going over my almost five years of blogging history, in the hopes that I would stumble upon some holiday-themed blog post, already written in perfect wisdom and grace. Ha! Sadly, there was no prior material to be used. I had to just sit down and write something new, genuine, and from the heart.
And just like most of my blog posts, the process moved very quickly. The words came pouring out of me, almost faster than the thoughts could form in my head. So, here's what I shared last night...
"I feel like I cannot adequately express with words how comforting it is to be in a room of people who understand the awful reality of losing a child. Grief is such a difficult, isolating event. And the loss of a baby goes against the natural order of life and death. So, if you're here to support someone in my shoes - thank you. Thank you for being here, to surround us in love and compassion.
I lost my little boy four years ago. We were given his fatal diagnosis when I was five months pregnant. We were urged to terminate his life, but we chose to carry him to term instead. While some people don't understand it - he's still a member of my family, even though he's not here with us. He's still my son, even though I cannot carry him in my arms. He's still a treasure that brings me joy, even though his loss brings me so much pain.
So, now here we are. Somewhere we never asked to be. Part of this exclusive club, where no one seeks membership. Let us at least be comforted in this - We will see our precious babies again someday. What a joyful day it will be, to see their little faces, to hold them in our arms, to finally feel complete. Until then, we will continue to speak their names, and remember them."
The theme for this year's service was "Angels Among Us." Enjoy this gorgeous version of the song:
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