Joy

Four years ago this past January I had a miscarriage.

I cried from deep places I didn't know I had. I have pages of journal entries of processing enormous grief that welled up within me.

The day I found out the baby died, I had to retrieve my kids from a dear friend's home. She and I were new friends at the time, but her heart broke with mine at the news. Little did we both know that by the end of the year, I would be comforting her as well. That night, that first night, I told God that if He was going to make me walk through such horrible pain, I wanted to know who I lost. I wanted a face. I wanted a gender. I wanted a name.

The next morning, before I even woke up I had a vision. A small newborn, swaddled in a pure pink fuzzy blanket with large white robed arms wrapped around her. I could see her little eyes, tiny nose and rounded pink lips as if I was holding her myself. I knew she was in Good hands. I cried some more and woke up to go about my day, tending to my two little boys.

The weeks, months, and years since then I think of her, thank God for her and ask Him to kiss her goodnight for me from time to time. He has done much healing in me and in His amazing grace, He planted sweet Peter in my arms before the one year anniversary of her death. What an amazing gift he is!

But here's the thing... the last few weeks my sons have been talking about her - a lot. My middle son, James who was only 18 months at the time made up a song after asking me why he couldn't see her for the umpteenth time in a few days.

Joy, Joy, please come down. Please come down to me...
Joy, Joy, please come down, please come down to me.

He sings it almost every day at least once. He has taught the other kids to sing it too. Even the kids that came and stayed with us for a few days.

It doesn't creep me out, it doesn't really bother me, but I do wonder what this longing is in him for her. Is it that the other kids he knows have sisters? Is it the place in him, like all of us, that is designed to have a longing for Heaven? Is it a sense of emptiness that she should be at our table? I really don't know.

Tonight, tired from being up late, he broke down crying, "Mom, I want to see Joy." John agreed that he did too. So, I prayed. I asked our God, the author of all life to give them a dream about their sister. That He would show her to them. She is beautiful, happy, loves her life and she is looking forward to us all being together one day - forever.

The only ache in me over this, is my dear friend will give birth to a beautiful baby girl tomorrow. And I long for mine. Maybe God is using this time to allow me to grieve on a level I didn't know I needed to. I am not sure. I will celebrate little Abigail with all my heart, because I will love her too, as if she was mine. And my dear friend will understand.