Dear Baby Scone,
Before I say anything else, I want to say that I love you. The news of your existence brought great joy to our family! Knowing you were on your way to be with us was like the first pretty day after a long, cold winter. I loved you from the minute I found out about you.
Last week when your mommy and daddy went to the doctor to check on you, your heart had stopped beating.
And just like that, our breath of fresh air vanished and we were thrust back into what feels like a never-ending winter.
Your mommy and daddy are devastated. They had been so thrilled about you! Your daddy had a LOT of work to do to get your room cleared out, but he was over the moon about you. Your mommy is one of the most laid back, even-keeled people I know, but she was giddy about you. She and I had already been shopping for you, planning how to decorate your room. We took hours walking through Babies R Us, deciding which "paraphernalia" was good enough for you and which looked silly. You would have had the best of everything.
And that's the thing that gets me, Baby Scone. We already adored you. You would have been loved and taken care of no matter what. So I don't understand why you can't BE.
Because I love you and I love your mommy so much, I went to be with her. Nana and Poppy came, too. We all went back to the doctor with her, and we left there with broken hearts and a sonogram picture. That black and white picture is all we have left of you, but I know it will be one of your mommy's greatest treasures. It shows you, fearfully and wonderfully made. I could clearly see your two little legs and two little arms. One arm was sticking up and out--would you have been a fighter? Oh, and your head. Your head was gigantic, just like your auntie's. I'm sorry about that.
It was a cold, raw day--just perfect for how we felt. Your mommy, your Nana, and I sat on the sofa in our pajamas, watching the wind howling outside. Your mommy cried, and we cried with her. Because that is all that we can do. We can't get you back, we can't fix it, we can't understand. So we grieve.
Before I say anything else, I want to say that I love you. The news of your existence brought great joy to our family! Knowing you were on your way to be with us was like the first pretty day after a long, cold winter. I loved you from the minute I found out about you.
Last week when your mommy and daddy went to the doctor to check on you, your heart had stopped beating.
And just like that, our breath of fresh air vanished and we were thrust back into what feels like a never-ending winter.
Your mommy and daddy are devastated. They had been so thrilled about you! Your daddy had a LOT of work to do to get your room cleared out, but he was over the moon about you. Your mommy is one of the most laid back, even-keeled people I know, but she was giddy about you. She and I had already been shopping for you, planning how to decorate your room. We took hours walking through Babies R Us, deciding which "paraphernalia" was good enough for you and which looked silly. You would have had the best of everything.
And that's the thing that gets me, Baby Scone. We already adored you. You would have been loved and taken care of no matter what. So I don't understand why you can't BE.
Because I love you and I love your mommy so much, I went to be with her. Nana and Poppy came, too. We all went back to the doctor with her, and we left there with broken hearts and a sonogram picture. That black and white picture is all we have left of you, but I know it will be one of your mommy's greatest treasures. It shows you, fearfully and wonderfully made. I could clearly see your two little legs and two little arms. One arm was sticking up and out--would you have been a fighter? Oh, and your head. Your head was gigantic, just like your auntie's. I'm sorry about that.
It was a cold, raw day--just perfect for how we felt. Your mommy, your Nana, and I sat on the sofa in our pajamas, watching the wind howling outside. Your mommy cried, and we cried with her. Because that is all that we can do. We can't get you back, we can't fix it, we can't understand. So we grieve.
I want you to know that the adults aren't the only ones who adore you. Your cowboy cousins had big plans for you. They were unanimous in their decision that you should be a boy (they don't understand that it wasn't really up to them!), and that they would teach you everything you need to know about boy stuff. They had great ideas about hunting and fishing trips that they would take with you. They also thought you might enjoy coming to our house with your daddy and all of you could go to Monster Jam. I was not invited because I am a girl.
If the boy thing didn't work out, however, the three of them agreed that they could deal with a girl cousin. The contingency plan was that you could still come visit and we would all bake and decorate cookies together. Then they would play Wii and you could go shopping with your mommy and me. Specifically, we would go to Target. They are crazy--and they would have been crazy about you.
I have not told them yet that we no longer have you. I guess I'm a little afraid...because how can I explain to my sons something that I can't understand myself?
Your mommy and daddy are great people. They really love each other. They like to have fun together and they laugh a lot. Before there was you, all of their extra affections were heaped on their dogs, Lucy and Moose. Your mommy is SO pretty, and your daddy's not bad, either (especially his hair, which he protects with a fierceness that leaves him wide open to mockery). You would have been a beautiful baby. Your parents are also food snobs. Your dad looks down on regular cheddar cheese with disdain, always opting instead for the weirdest, hard-to-pronounce blocks of cheese in the deli. This is why you are called Scone. It would never do for your mommy to have a plain old bun in the oven.
Most importantly, your mommy and daddy love Jesus. They would have taken you to church. They would have talked to you about Jesus and taught you that He loves you. They would have prayed for you, and as you got older, they would have taught you what it means to be a person of faith and to walk with Christ, just like they do. They believe that God made you and gave you life, and that your little heart was in His hands. All of us who love you are heartbroken and desperately trying to come up with some plausible reason for the loss of wonderful, perfect you.
I love you, Baby Scone. You will always be a part of our family. You can not be replaced or forgotten. I believe that I will see you in heaven. And when I get there, let's bake some cookies together, OK?
Love,
Aunt Allyson
"The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD." Job 1:21
3 comments:
I'm so sorry Allyson!!
Heartbroken for your sweet family whom I love so much! :( Another little angel in heaven and yes, I do believe we will see them again. Praying for your family even more right now. "Because he lives I can face tomorrow."
oh, this post made me cry....what a perfect auntie you will be! Guess what! Little Scone is up in heaven playing with my sweet friend's little girl, Lila Elizabet, who was on this crazy earth for 16 prayerful days. These little ones might not have had to face the things we do here on this side of Heaven, but what joy they did bring in their sweet little lives!
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