Saying Goodbye

"Dear Jesus, thank you that our baby is sitting on your lap and thank you for helping us not be sad," our five year old daughter prayed.  I smiled through tears at the faith of a child who knows to breath thanks even when it hurts.

This is the hope we have and we cling to this.  We know where our baby Hope is and we know where our real Hope is.  We know there will be a day when all our tears will be wiped away and we will see our baby Hope in heaven. 

Still, saying goodbye for now is so very hard.

Saying goodbye to the baby you never really knew is even harder.  

As my body did the hard work of letting go, my heart was still not quite ready.  I so desperately wanted this baby and, as a mother, this little one is already so much a part of me.  I knew I needed a tangible way to fully let go and say goodbye, so I asked my family if they'd be willing to participate in a balloon release farewell last weekend.

"We'll do anything for you," they said and I nearly cried again at the love continuing to pour out on our family.  I've seen my family pull together through so many hard times and still I'm in awe of the lifelong bond and commitment to each other they display time and time again. 

Saturday morning, we packed up the van again and drove to my parents' house after Valerie's dance class.  The kids ate a quick lunch and then took naps while I worked on making these memory pins and preparing a little memorial service for our baby Hope.

I wanted to write something on my own, but I felt so lost for words that day.  Friday was an extremely difficult day for me as my heart and body ached for the emptiness in my womb.  I just felt so spent emotionally and physically.

Instead, I found this beautiful poem and adapted it for our baby Hope.  Ted read it as my family gathered around in a circle.  I thought for sure I would cry again, but, somehow, seeing the tears in their eyes and the love they already felt for our baby, I felt a peace and a strength I didn't know.  Only God...

After Ted read the poem, I spoke about how what Hope's name meant to us and explained how the song, It Is Well, has been such a comfort to us.  Then, with printed lyrics and music found online, we sang together.

When the song ended, everyone picked a balloon with a note I had made tied to the strings remembering our baby Hope.  Even though it was dark and cold, we gathered outside in my parents' backyard and watched our balloons float away.  It was so healing to physically let go of the balloon and imagine them floating up to the heavens where our baby sat safely cradled in the arms of Jesus.  One lone pink balloon became tangled in my parents' tree and it was a sign for me that Hope was still with us, always.