Today is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day.  We are joining with others across the world who are also missing their little ones.  Everyone has been invited to light a candle at 7pm, in all time zones, and let it burn for an hour.  This will create a wave of light over the entire world; we do this in loving memory of our babies.

As Lucy’s parents, we don’t need a special day to remember her; we remember her every minute of every day.  I am sure that all of those who have lost a baby feel the same way.  However, I am thankful that today we can remember our babies together.  We can hold hands, look in each other’s tear-filled eyes and say yes, we are deeply sad that they are not here.

For some of our babies there is a name and a face, for others the dream of knowing their little one was cut even shorter.  Each baby is unique, special, and missed.  Each parent feels the pain whether they share it openly, or weep when no one can see.  Today I would ask that you please pray for anyone you know who has had a loss of any kind.

My ache for Lucy is so raw and real.  Despite the hope of eternity that I clinch my fists around, while still on this earth my pain will not go away.  Grief shows up all the time; it attends all family vacations, birthday parties, holidays, trips to the zoo, trips to our table to sit together and eat a meal, etc.  Grief is always there.  But the longer I’ve gotten to know grief, the more I am able to put it in it’s place.  I will acknowledge my sorrow but I won’t let it fester and steal the joy of this moment with Oliver, Shaun, and those here with me now.

So today I am sad.  Today, like everyday, I wonder what life would be like if Lucy was here.  I wonder what she would look like at nearly nine months, what she would be doing, how it would look to see my two kids interact, and what seeing my daughter with her daddy would be like.  The weather is cooling, and I would for sure be dressing her in thick, cute tights and kissing her cheeks.  For all these reasons and so many more I am deeply sad.  Sad doesn’t even seem to come close to communicating the depth of how bad this hurts.

Today I am also thankful.  I am thankful for the 38 weeks that Lucy was in our lives.  I am thankful that God gave Lucy to us, that she is our daughter.  I am thankful that she was so incredibly wiggly, letting me feel her and know her as well as I was able to for the short time that we were together.  I am thankful that I got to hold her, kiss her, and take in her sweet button nose and dark curls.  I am thankful that she is with Jesus and that I will see her again someday.  I would give anything to have our sweet girl back, but I am thankful for the lessons that her short life has taught me and how she brought me closer my Savior.

So tonight we will light a candle for Lucy; we will let it burn and we will think of her and all of the other babies that are with her in heaven.  We love our Lucy so much and we can’t wait to be reunited with her someday; what a sweet, special day it will be.