A month ago, I was given confirmation that you existed. I thrilled, cried, and thanked God on my knees for you. I announced you to others, admittedly with trepidation. I laid in bed after everyone had gone to sleep, touching my belly and imagining our future. I looked forward to your first kick and imagined that you were perhaps a little boy. I would name you Seamus, much to the chagrin of my husband and family.
Did you know, December baby, that I prayed for you for nearly a year? That I pleaded to God to bless my already large family with another child- that I cried and thanked God when I saw that second line? Most of all, sweet December baby, did you know that I loved you before you were conceived? And, make no mistake- you were conceived in love.
I knew, from the beginning, that something was wrong. I had no morning sickness, and I felt uneasy making an official announcement. The day that I first saw you on the ultrasound was the day that I lost you. You became real to me that day, and then you were gone. You were sent to the very best place- the safest place, the best place, into the arms of Jesus- but yet I cried, because my arms were empty. I wanted you here with me- I wanted the morning sickness, the creaky joints, the emergency bathroom breaks. Instead, I had an empty womb and a body that had forgotten that my baby had died. I had all the symptoms of pregnancy without the baby, until it was over.
Sweet December baby, I never saw your face nor ever knew if you were a boy or a girl- but I love you as any child born to me. I hold fast to the Lord’s promise that He shall wipe every tear from my eyes and that you are safe in His arms until we meet. Until then, know that I love you and I miss you- but I rest easy knowing that you are in the best possible place, in the arms of our Savior.
I love you, sweet December baby. You were mine for a brief moment, and I give you back to the One who first gifted you to me. Until we meet again, I will remember those quiet nights where I marveled at the tiny being taking place inside of me- the secret you and I shared. The moments where I knew my body was no longer my own- but a vessel for a tiny soul.
Above all else, know that you are loved- by a holy and benevolent God and from a loving and mourning mother. I miss you every day but I thank God that you were given to me, however briefly.
I love you, wee December baby.