September 29

It’s been seven years since we lost our Gabriel Michael to a first trimester miscarriage. 

Seven years. 

At dinner this evening, we talked about how tomorrow, September 29, is the feast of the Archangels (who we named our own angel after) and how I’d like us to get to Mass. 

“Why do you like to go to Mass on this feast day?” inquired Annie.  “Because that is the one place in which Heaven meets Earth and it is the closest we can be to your brother until we get to Heaven,” I explained.  Jason went on to add, “…then we can all meet him and our family will all be together.”

“Yeah, I want to go, too,” the kids declared.

There were a lot of questions from our little people this year—how old was Gabriel when he died?  How did you know he died if he was in your belly?  How did he get out of your belly?  Can we go and visit his grave sometime?

It might seem strange to some that we are so open with the kids about our miscarriages, but we decided very early on that these lost children are a part of our family, so why diminish their importance in our lives simply because they aren’t here right now.  We don’t dwell on their loss and the topic doesn’t come up all that often, but when it does, the kids are always curious, reflective, and thoughtful.

With our family size feeling oh-so-small these days, these feast days sting a little bit more, for it is another reminder that our family is what it is.  Yes, God can still work amazing miracles, and I’ve not lost that hope.  But, for now, there is no planning or hoping or imagining what our life will be like when the next baby comes along.

Instead, our thoughts are turned inward and upward as we are asked to give this sorrow, this sense of loneliness, this ache in our hearts to hold that child that we never got to embrace—yes, we give it to our Lord.  And we turn to our Heavenly Mother who knows well the ache that comes from the suffering love for her child and ask that she wrap her loving mantle around us, so that we might experience joy and peace in accepting God’s will for our family.

Seven years.    There is the old saying that these sorts of things get easier with time.  But, I disagree.