Saturday, September 26, 2015

Dear Lucy,

I thought about you tonight while I was watching the General Women's Broadcast at the church. The Spirit whispered something to me and I wanted to make sure I wrote it down.

Emiko talks about you all the time. I have wondered whether or not we should say things about you when we don't really know for sure everything about you. For example, we really don't know for sure if you were even going to be a girl. I had a dream that you were a girl while I was pregnant and your cousin Isaiah named you Lucy one night before going to bed when you were in my tummy. So that is why we thought you were a girl and why we named you Lucy. After your loss I have pray with all my heart for answers to know if you are really a part of our family, if your existence in my belly was enough for you to progress on, etc. I never got a sure answer about how things will work out in the end with you. The answer I did receive was that it is okay for me to not know/understand everything right now. And I did receive the assurance that everything will work out fine and I don't need to worry about it. So back to my concern, with so much uncertainty and lack of complete understanding, do we talk about you, Lucy, to our children like you really are a part of our family? This has been a bit of a dilemma for me recently.

This is what I thought/felt/learned tonight from the Spirit. I think that we should talk about our baby Lucy who was a part of our lives for such a short time. We should tell our children what we "understand" or believe about you and how we feel about you and about all that we learned from you during your very short time with us and how your existence still affects us today and how we continue to learn from you even though you are not with us. The impression I received tonight from the Holy Ghost was that in the world our children are growing up in this may be a very beneficial/effective way to teach them that it's okay to not know everything. It is okay to live without having a complete understanding of things right now. There are things that we can be sure about and we can hold on tight to those truths. And it is okay to have certain things we don't understand completely and we can still trust in God that things will work out fine any way. It may help our children to see that we as their parents have great hope that we will see our Lucy girl again some day and for them to see our confidence and surety that our family is sealed together eternally because of the covenants we've made in the temple. But it is also important for them to know that even if what we think about how things are with our Lucy or what we think about how they will be someday are completely wrong, that we will accept God's will and trust that His plan for us is right and complete and perfect no matter what that may be. Learning about Lucy, their big sister, in this way may be a key to teaching our children to learn to exercise faith even amidst uncertainty.

Does this make sense? It made sense to me when I had these thoughts and feelings during the conference. I felt a lot of peace and assurance concerning the matter. I am so grateful for the inspiration that comes from the Holy Ghost and I'm grateful that I chose to be in a place tonight where I could feel that influence and receive that inspiration that I didn't even know I needed.

I love you Lucy. I will not be so hesitant to speak of you any more. I know that you will continue to bless our family even though you seem so far away from us right now.

Tonight Poppa and the girls were watching "Tangled" and the part at the end always makes both of us cry. The King and Queen are reunited with their long lost daughter for the first time. They realize that she is in fact their little girl and immediately they fall down to their knees in loving embraces, the mother and father surrounding their daughter in their love and hugs. Maybe someday we will be able to experience that same joyful reunion with you, our precious little one.

Thinking of you and loving you with all my heart,
Momma

9 Sept 2015 Hi from Poppa

Dear Lucy Girl,

Today was your special day. I think about you often and wish that we could get to know you properly. Someday, right?

The new school year is shaping up. I have been concerned about how mean I am to the kids in the hallways lately. I get so annoyed that they walk down the hallways and just blab on like there's no one else in the whole school. Seriously!

Your little sisters are doing well. They are growing up like little weeds--cute and happy weeds, that is. They know you only through story and imagination. And in some ways, your Momma and I know you the same way. As we imagine and hope for you, as we remember the smallest details.

Tell Popo hi for me and be patient for us. We want to see you so much, but I guess we have plenty of things to do here. Who knows? You do your best and we'll do ours. Our Heavenly Father will make sure everything works out in the end. I'm sure of it.

May God bless you, Little Lucy. My sweet, sweet friend. Be good where you are and keep an eye on us. We need you in our family always.

With all my love,

Poppa

Wednesday, September 9, 2015

Dear Lucy,

Today was your day. Rosie was the one who reminded me of this a couple of times during the day by saying in her toddler terminology, "My sister Lucy died." This evening when she reminded Emiko of this, "Your sister Lucy died." Emiko responded by explaining to Rosie about how you were too small, but that even though you are in heaven you are still part of our family.

I have been thinking about you more the past few months than I normally do. I think it is because I am pregnant now, and my due date with "little brother" is only one day before your due date was. You were due January 24, 2009. Baby brother is due January 23, 2016. You two would have been almost exactly seven years apart. I compare this pregnancy a lot to yours. Not that they are very similar. In fact, they are quite different. But I think about how far along I am now and what time of year it was and remember that I was this far along with you at this point of my pregnancy at this same time of year, etc. Although, that ends today, I guess, because that is as far as my experience being pregnant with you goes. Huh.

I'll never forget what it was like to come home from the Emergency Room, to look into the mirror, my tummy somewhat deflated, and feeling a sort of emptiness, like you were gone. Not just your tiny physical body, but also your spirit. You were gone and I could not bring you back. It was such a very, very sad time for us, your Poppa and I.

It's hard sometime to think about how things might have been if you had stayed here with us, if you had been a normal little girl. (We don't even know for sure that you would have been a girl, I only had a dream shortly before we lost you that you were a girl.) Our lives certainly would be different. I can't believe it's been seven years already since we lost you. We think about you often. And your sisters remind us of you often. Emiko frequently tells me and others about her big sister Lucy and how you died and how much she misses you.

I miss you too sweet Lucy. Thank you for teaching me so much about patience and love and accepting the Lord's will and timing for us in our lives. You are always dear to my heart and I ache sometimes when I remember the short, time we had with you followed by your sudden, painful loss. I wonder if you were thinking about us today too, on your special day.

All my love,
Your Momma

Monday, April 20, 2015

Monday, April 20, 2015

Dear Lucy,

This is just a note from your Poppa to say hi. I’m sorry I haven’t written in a long time. I think about you always. I miss you. I hope you are well where you are. Someday soon, come and visit and say hi to me and Momma, okay?

With love,

Your Poppa

September 17, 2014

September 17, 2014

Sweet Lucy-Girl,

I am writing to you a little over a week after your special day. Oh, Lucy, what a day that was. I will never forget that I heard your heartbeat in that little room early in the morning. The doctor tried to tell us that you were already gone, and looking back on it, parts of me want to believe that you weren’t there. But I know what I know. And I know that we heard the heartbeat and we heard you strong. And the nurse smiled reassuringly to us to let us know that you were still there and still okay. I haven’t forgotten that. And as painful as that day was, I want you to know that I still treasure it. I treasure it because it was the last time I got to be with you.

I think about you, about how old you would be. And maybe what you would look like. I imagine you as my rock solid Lucy, my right hand to help keep Emiko in line. She would have loved to follow you. I would love it if you could still do that for her, in whatever ways you can.

Life here is wonderful and perfect. But it’s just missing you. And I’m missing you. Maybe that’s the only real difference between here and heaven: having everyone you want with you.

Say hi to your grandma for me. Be good. Keep an eye on us. And always know that I love you and that I think of you always.

With love,

Your Poppa

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Dearest Lucy,

Today is your special day. It’s been six years now. Where has the time gone?

I thought about you as school was starting up this fall. You would have gone to kindergarten this year. A lot of my friends’ kids have started kindergarten this year or last (kids who were born about the same time as you). I often think of what your life might have been like, and what our lives might have been like if you were still here with us. I usually imagine that life with you as a happy, healthy and whole little girl. But I am reminded that your body was not right. If you had made it through pregnancy, as I was prompted by the Spirit to understand at the time of our loss, your little body would not have been developed properly. You would have had so many physical and mental problems that the pain we would have felt to see you suffer in this life in that broken body would have been much more painful for us to bear than it was for us to lose you during my pregnancy. In that regard, I suppose you probably would not have gone to kindergarten, not the way other kids do anyway. You would not have experienced school the way other kids do. You would have been different. You would have needed a lot of extra help. It’s hard to know what life might have been like with you either whole or broken. Either way, I often feel that you are not too far away and that you see us and know what we are doing, even if we can’t see you and know what you are doing. Maybe you are able to help and watch over your little sisters now where you are in a way that you never would have been able to do if you had stayed here with us in a broken body. We miss you and think about you often. We feel you are part of our family even though we don’t understand exactly how things will all work out in the end.

Tonight as Emiko was laying in bed trying to go to sleep, she wanted to know, when you come to us, if you will be able to do “tricks”. Then she demonstrated such a trick by lifting one leg into the air while balancing on her two hands and other foot on the bed. Emiko likes doing tricks these days. It was interesting to hear her speak about you tonight like a sister and friend who could have played with her and done “tricks” with her. I often think of Emiko as our “first”, but she is not. You are our first child and you prepared me to be a better mother for Emiko just as Emiko has prepared me to be a better mother for Rosie, who in turn is probably preparing me to be a better mother for other children waiting to join our family.

Poppa had to go to bed, but he wanted me to let you know how much he loves you. He thinks about you often and misses you so very much. He cries sometimes because of how much he misses you.

I miss you too. I hope you are happy and well. I hope you know how much we love you. We love you so much. So, so very much.

-Momma (and Poppa)

Friday, February 14, 2014

Friday, February 14, 2014

Dear Lucy,

Today is Valentine’s Day.

Emiko asked about your blanket today. She thought it was Lisi’s blanket (Emily & Rob’s little girl Elise Huey). I explained to her that it is Lucy’s blanket. I told her about you and how you were with us for only a short time and then you went back to Heavenly Father. I told her that you are her big sister. Emiko said, “I just love her so much.”

We had a special Valentine’s dinner date (Cupid’s Crazy Cafe). It was really fun for Emiko to play like we were eating at a restaurant, ordering food on her menu, wearing a crown and a pretty necklace. It would have been so fun if you could have joined us. I don’t always think about it, but life would be so very different if you were still with us. I wonder if you are close, even though we can’t see you. I often sense someone near, or think I see someone from the corner of my eye. It’s probably just a reflection of light on the rim of my glasses, but I sometimes wonder if it is you close by, watching, seeing what we are doing.

Poppa mentioned you in our family prayer tonight. About how he hopes you know he thinks of you and how much he loves you. I miss you too.

My heart felt that aching loss, tonight, while sitting in a dark living room after watching a touching movie with Poppa (Departures, a Japanese film). I cried as I remembered how I never got the chance to see, or touch, or hold your tiny body. You were just suddenly gone. No special ceremony, no beautiful gown to dress you in, you were simply taken away. If I were the same person then that I am now, I would have given anything to hold you close to me for even just a few minutes.

I have become a firm believer, since Rosie’s birth, of babywearing and bed sharing. (These are attachment parenting ideas/practices.) I don’t think a baby can be spoiled by being held “too much.” I don’t really know why I’m telling you these things, other than they have been on my mind lately. But I guess what I’m trying to say is that I don’t think I’ll ever regret the amount of time I’ve spent holding and loving and caring for our little girls. All of the countless hours laying next to them in bed, waiting for them to fall asleep, and usually falling asleep myself in the process, figuring out how to do a variety of tasks with a baby in my arms, holding a baby over the potty over and over again while smiling, babbling, singing or telling stories to pass the time. I don’t think I will regret any of this. I know this time will be so short and pass too quickly. These beautiful girls will only be babies for a very short amount of time in their lives and mine.

Our time with you was cut short. So very short. I don’t ever want to look back and regret that I didn’t spend enough time with those whom I love most.

All my love...Happy Valentine’s Day...

-Momma