A Perfect Pink Stocking

This will be the third Christmas without our London. Well, the truth of the matter is that we never had London during Christmas, or any holiday for that matter. But...this will be the third Christmas since we lost our London. That's a more accurate way to say it, I guess. We just had a wonderful Thanksgiving with our family, and it was such a blessing to have Jack with us this year. However, I found myself being really emotional last week before Thanksgiving. I wasn't really sure what had sparked my emotion, but I truly think that it was just that the holidays were approaching, and I was faced with the reality - yet again - that London was not here. Although I know this and I accept this fact, it's still so raw during the holidays - during those times when family is supposed to be celebrated, and you somehow seem closer than ever to the ones you love. That is why it hits me so hard.

I wish she were here. This year, London would be 2 years old. I can just imagine what she would be doing during this holiday season. Would she like Santa or would she scream? What toys/dolls/babies would she like? What Christmas dress would she wear, or what big Christmas bow would we put in her hair? Gosh, I could just keep going, but those things hurt me so badly as her mommy. I feel cheated! I can't help it. I just ache for her. I want to know what she would look like, feel like, sound like. I want her here with us.

I have wanted to find a stocking to hang in her memory, but I just haven't found the "right" one. That is, until today. I was strolling through Target with my sisters, and out of the blue, I spotted the most perfect stocking for London, and I had to get it. It is light pink satin with a pink velvet ruffle, and a rhinestone princess crown on it. It's so dainty, prissy and just "fits" her! She is our princess, and this stocking is definitely fit for a princess!

When I brought it home today, I asked Jonathan if we should add it to the other three or hang it in the middle. He insisted that it hang in the middle. When I hung this beautiful pink stocking in between the two more masculine stockings, I got a big lump in my throat. I sat on the couch in front of the fireplace, and I couldn't help but to cry. As I looked at the mantle, it wasn't just 3 stockings hanging there. It was as if my two boys were hugging their sister - one on each side of her. There is absolutely no pink in our house. I think I have one sweater with pink stripes, but that's about it. Pink does not go with our decor, so this satin and rhinestone stocking really stands out. And you know what? That's exactly how I want it. It should stand out. It's absolutely perfect that this pink stocking - that doesn't match anything - is now in the center of our mantle and at the center of our family room. A conversation piece? Absolutely. For some strange reason, when I hung London's stocking tonight, it was as if she were here with me. It was as if my daughter - my baby girl - was in the room beside me.

When Jagger saw the stocking, he said, "Mommy that is so adorable" as he hugged it against his chest. Unfortunately, I ordered our Christmas cards this morning, and our precious pink stocking is not a part of the pictures! But...that's okay. It's now a part of our home and our Christmas, and I feel that London is even closer to us during this sacred time of the year.

It may seem strange, but as I've said a hundred times before, grief will make you do/think/say strange things sometimes. Oh, how I wish London were here. She isn't - she never will be. But...we can remember her, honor her and symbolize her in our heart and in our home forever.

Please pray

When I began my blog, I felt like I had so much to share and so much to say. My heart is still so full, but it's not overflowing with grief like it used to. Don't get me wrong, I have a sadness in my heart for my precious baby girl that is yet to leave. In fact, I don't see it truly ever leaving. However, that sadness comes in brief waves and is - thankfully - more manageable now. I don't even cry very often now. Even when something upsets me or catches me off guard about London, I can usually just take a deep breath and recover rather quickly. Not always...but most of the time.

There are times when I allow myself to just think about the darkest moments of my life - moments like the ultrasound when we learned of London's diagnosis, the wretched appointment when we were told we could terminate the pregnancy, allow our baby to die, or have her endure 3 open heart surgeries; the nurse telling us the "unexpected complication" during London's surgery; the final shake of the head from the nurse that told us our baby was gone; seeing her precious, tiny white casket with pink roses sitting on a platform; and the silence and darkness that followed those moments. Oh, how it hurt. How I was paralyzed with grief, and how I felt that I couldn't possibly recover from the worst pain I could ever endure.

But...here I am, and I have survived. I never thought that I would, but God is good and He is faithful. He has brought us through the valley of the shadow of death, and He has been with us and restored our joy. On the other hand, there are those who are just entering the valley. There are those whose hearts have just been ripped apart; lives have been changed forever; and grief has consumed their entire being.

My heart has felt so burdened this week for a lady whom I used to go to church with - a beautiful, sweet lady named Heather. Heather was pregnant with her third child - a healthy little boy named Ethan. Heather was to be induced last Thursday. Her 2 children were looking forward to meeting their little brother, and the anticipation of new life was as wonderful as it could be. Until...the day of the induction, there was no heartbeat. That was it. It was over. All the planning, all the anticipation, all the excitement, dreams, plans, future...it was all over and destroyed. My heart has just ached for this sweet family. It makes me literally sick to think of going back to those first wretched, horrible days, and I am so sad that another family is having to endure the same thing. This family has a wonderful support system, they have their faith, but they do not have their precious baby boy. And, speaking from experience, when you've lost a piece of you that you nurtured for 9 months in your womb, felt kick and move, and grew to love more than life itself even before you ever saw them, not even the promise of heaven takes the pain away. So, I ask you...will you pray for this family? Will you pray that Heather and her family will have peace, comfort, strength, and faith.

We do not understand God's ways or his timing, but in moments like this, oh how I wish I could get a glimpse of what His plan is! I have learned that in these moments, we have to love him anyway - because He loves us. When you're mad, angry, hurting deeper than any human should, and you just want to know WHY...that's when all you can do is just trust him and love him. No, I didn't say agree with him or be chipper with him, necessarily. But...we should still go to him, tell him what we want to say - good, bad, ugly - because he knows anyway. He knows our pain. He knows we don't understand. But he's there and he loves us. He loves Heather and her family and he knows why this has happened - he sees the whole picture. So, will you pray for them? Thank you!