Editor’s Note: this Guest Post contains the author’s personal opinions about religion. Please read with caution, if this is a triggering subject for you.
To my son: I know your dad doesn’t like it when I apologize, but I’m sorry.
I’m sorry if I did anything to cause your death.
Your life began and ended in my womb; they were 40 long weeks and I so looked forward to getting to know you. But I can’t. You’re gone.
Safe in Jesus’ arms.
I saw Him take you. And I don’t know why. I’m envious of the mothers who are tired and ache because of the hard work it is to be a mother of living children. I’m tired and ache too, but it is because of the hard work of my grieving; I’m a loss mama.
They have the joys of a living breathing baby.I do not. I imagined holding you and watching you smile and laugh and comforting you when you cry. I thought it would all be worth it after 40 weeks. But you stopped moving. Your heart stopped beating. And after my pain and labor, I held you, still warm from my womb, but unmoving.
I can’t take care of you like I imagined. Instead I care for your grave, still markerless because we can’t pay the full amount to have it done sooner. Instead I wait. I wait for the marker to be paid and then placed. I wait for God to give me answers. I wait for the pain of missing you to dull. I wait for joy to come.
I wait to see you again.
I grieve over your future on earth lost. I grieve over not getting to see you cry or poop or throw up. I grieve not getting to see you grow in an earthly body. I grieve when I see other mamas who are pregnant or with babies. IT’S NOT FAIR! my heart screams. But I’ve learned God does not care about fair. I believe He chose to take you. I don’t know if you were more special or the best or why He took you, but nothing that has been said has comforted me.
I just wish I was like all the other mamas, with their babies to hold and cradle. I miss you Emmanuel. I seek to understand in hopes that I will accept the time to wait. To see you again. And hold you in a vibrant living body.
I grieve. And I wait.
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Pamela Godbold is mama to Emmanuel Shalom, who was born still at 40 weeks on October 6, 2016, after an uneventful pregnancy. She is 32, married to her husband, Stephen, and lives in Fresno, CA with her husband and German Shepherd/Husky Mix dog, Fresno. She is new to the bereaved parents community and learning what it means to live a new normal. Pamela currently attends CSU Fresno as an MBA candidate while working through her grief.
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