Tuesday, April 10, 2012

One Year

One year ago today my son Innocent was born. Here is the letter I wrote him this morning:


My dear Innocent,

Happy birthday! Your birthday into heaven has already happened and I guess for you this day last year was rather anticlimactic, to say the least. It was a little different for me, of course.

When you departed this life, the only witnesses were the angels. I still wonder what I was doing at that moment. It's not profitable to speculate. It would be nice to think I was thinking about you, but the truth is I thought of you often. I prayed for you and loved you. You were always safe and loved.

When we were told you were already gone, there were witnesses: your father, two grim-faced nurses and a pregnant doctor. There had already been dozens of witnesses in the clinic to my pain, because I knew what was coming and couldn't pretend I didn't. You were far from there, not sharing in our pain, which is a comfort to me. That moment is one I would completely erase from my memory if I could.

The night you were born, however, the only witness was your mother. Your brothers and sisters were asleep, Papa was in the next room listening out in case I needed help, the rest of the world was unaware. But I was there, the only witness to your birth. I can understand why someone who has not experienced the birth of a child already departed would think this is crazy, but the truth that the moment you first meet your baby is a magical one still holds, even when the soul is gone. I was so relieved that your body was well preserved, that you were so beautiful. You would have been beautiful to me anyway, but at least it didn't look like you had suffered.

The moment when I laid eyes on you, time stood still. It was as if even the angels held their breaths. I can't even describe it. When your older brothers and sisters were born there was always a commotion, always a flurry of activity. They cried and kicked and I was in a haze of pain. When you were born there was perfect silence. No movement. No bright lights, shining instruments, no presence of strangers.

Just you and me and the angels.

Happy birthday, my love.


Only nine days later I opened this blog. I felt it was that important. I hope it has been a source of help and encouragement and even healing to those who have come across it.


  1. I hope it was a peaceful day remembering what Innocent has brought you in his short but sweet life. Hugs!

  2. Thank you so much for this. Your feelings as expressed here are so similar to mine when I saw the body of my precious baby. It is a comfort and a blessing to be reminded that it is not crazy to experience this as a holy and sacred and even beautiful moment. I don't think anyone can fully understand until they have walked this difficult road. I only wish that our culture did a better job of honouring these babies and the women who carry them. This website is such a ministry - if not for this, I have no idea what my miscarriage would have been like - probably quite traumatic. Thanks to God's goodness in leading me to your site, and your faithfulness in having created it - the day I gave birth to my baby's body was a precious and holy and beautiful day. I probably won't ever meet you this side of heaven but I would love to give you a big hug my sister in Christ. Jennifer

  3. Thank you, Jennifer. I'm praying that when I deliver Gabriel, it will be a similar experience.


Thank you for visiting. If you have a comment or question you are not comfortable leaving in a comment box, then feel free to e-mail me directly. We appreciate the opinions of others, but would remind you to present them with Christian charity.