The Hand I Will Not Hold…

Just saying, this is not one of our usual posts and it is a sad one. If you aren’t up to it then move along, our regular blogging will resume. But over here we do blog about our “life and times” and sometimes life is sad, and I am writing about our recent loss.

I am shattered… I have been thinking for weeks of clever and ingenious ways to share with our readers how se7en + 1 will be se7en + 1 + another one… but we won’t be.

Just as we reached Week #12, we lost our little person… our babe for such a short time, ours to love and cherish but not to raise up. I know our children are a gift from God and I know they are on loan to us, but on loan for such a short time is hard.

I never expected to have another babe… really our youngest is four and I am no spring chicken. But in my heart of hearts I was never really done and whenever anyone asks me are we done, I always say… I guess so, unless a few more arrive in the post box. (They think I’m kidding, but I am not!!!) Needless to say this would have been my post box child… and I miss it.

Astonishingly there are people out there that are surprised by our pain. We have eight perfectly beautiful children… there is no denying that and I love them all with the fierce love that only a mother can love her children with… But I loved my little hood#9 with the same fierce love.

And come that due date I am going to miss the sweet fluffy hair that brushes your cheek, that soft baby skin, where you don’t know where they begin and you end… sleepy hiccups and half smiles. There is a hand I will never hold… a hand that was ours to cherish… and a hand that will never rest sleepily in my own.

The thing about grief is that the world goes on, children need dinner and stories and fresh laundry in the morning… and they will have that… but this is a new season for me, one when even the most delectable looking food tastes like nothing. The only place for a quiet sob is into my pillow when the rest of the house is sleeping… I have no problem crying in front my children… but my word, we are talking “cry me a river” over here…

I know it will pass, I know I will feel better… but honestly I don’t really want to. Right now I want to miss this child deeply forever. And from previous griefs I know the pain doesn’t go away, but we get better at handling it… that time will come but just not yet.

I didn’t write this post because I wanted all our readers to feel oddly sad, or awkward even but really for the folk out there who experience this and know that they are not alone. So many people go through this, that the medical world considers it to be “normal.” But there is nothing normal about the deep and abiding disappointment, despair really.

It is a strange place to be… I am paralysed by decisions. I can make dinner, but then take hour to serve it because I can’t decide if we need salt and pepper on the table. A glorious sunshiny day and I take the whole day to decide wether it is worth the walk down to the beach, of course it is, but by the time I decide that the sun is going down, and we haven’t gone yet…

I am struck by the empathy of so many friends and the lack of empathy by others… right now I don’t want a sermonette on the se7en stages of grief… in fact I just want some peace. Right now I don’t want anyone to “take my kids off my hands,” really I never want that… but right now I need them all close by me… I need my little ones near me – they provide tremendous comfort and distraction!!!

After 12 weeks of nurturing a little life and letting house and garden maintenance slide beyond the point of return I am awakening to discover that with empty arms all the chaos and the garden that is normally a place of peace is just an unresponsive wasteland… our beans did not grow – they must have known. Do I plant fresh ones or leave the ground to it’s weeds. I head out doors and stare at the garden and think, I must do something and then I head indoors again.

A strange place to be… but in Proverbs it does say: “A hope deferred makes the heart sick…” and that so describes it, right now my heart is indeed sick. I am in a place of slow recovery… I have a crazy week of blogging ahead but December is going to see me spending a lot more time pottering around and working on healing my heart… a busy time of year, where I just need a little more time than usual to breathe and Be Still.

57 Replies to “The Hand I Will Not Hold…”

  1. Oh friend, bless your heart(s)! All of our children are precious, no matter the number. And not being able to hold one, well, that is something I’ve never faced, thanks be to God. So I won’t say I know what you’re going through. BUT, I can imagine what it would feel like to lose one of mine & know it would be worse than I could imagine – and so my heart hurts for you. You will be in my thoughts & prayers in the days & weeks to come. Xo

  2. I’ve been there with twins. It was grief beyond words. I lost one at a time, two weeks apart. My pillow saw many tears and heard many screams. Take all the time in the world that you need. God understands. He too, had a child pass away.

  3. my heart is aching for you so so so deeply… I offer you heartfelt prayers and love and love and love and love. I am so terribly sorry for your loss. I wish there was something I could do to ease your pain… for right now I pray that you can feel the love of our Heavenly Father as He grieves with you… may you feel His warmth as you walk through this immensely hard time. I love you and your sweethearts—ALL of them! xo

  4. Oh I’m so sorry for your loss. The loss of a child is the loss of so many things… I lost my last child at 4 months and there will always be the sorrow for what could have been. Our deep felt prayers are with you. Blessings from your friends in CA.

  5. I am so very very sorry that this has happened and my heart is heavy knowing you’re in pain. Thinking of you and yours with lots of love.

  6. My heart hurts for you. Our way is sometimes a vale of tears… Your heartfelt words will be a comfort to someone God sends your way. Thank you for opening your heart to us. Wish I could give you a hug.

  7. Thank you with sharing your heart; I know it will help those that have walked through the same valley; and my love, thoughts and prayers are with you and your family.

  8. We too have lost a baby at 12 weeks (in November 8 years ago), so I feel your pain deeply. Not only was it extremely difficult physically (I went into labor & then 3 months later had some hemorrhaging & had to have surgery), but the death of the baby, the hopes, the dreams, & the “never-to-be’s” is almost beyond comprehension. It doesn’t mean you’re any less thankful for the children you have – it means that little precious life is worthy to be grieved for. Grieve, mourn, give the pain the place it deserves. Now that our 2 kids are older (10 & 7), we talk about it occasionally & it still hurts, but we are able to talk of the Lord’s loving-kindness & how we will see & know the baby someday in heaven. Thank you for bravely sharing something so tender. Much love & prayers to all of you from Texas!

  9. Hugs, mama. I know your pain. Hood #9 was truly lucky to have such an amazing mother for even such a short time. The grief will lessen, but for now, it is just a stage of life, and living it is far better than hiding from it. Sending love and prayers from the other side of the world.

  10. You are in my prayers…I too have felt that grief and am thinking of you and your family at this time.

  11. Truly a heart felt hug and much more. Thinking of your husband and kids too who must also be feeling bereft. xxx

  12. Praying for you. We have been there twice and I remember well how this felt. I know, even 12 and 5 years later when the babies would have been born and how old they would have been. They are with Jesus and the pain does get less paralyzing with time.

  13. So sorry for your loss. I know that kind of pain and you know it gets easier, you can even talk about it openly, but the heartache is always there, even thought we never hold their hands…we hold their hearts and souls.

  14. I am devastated to read of your loss. Thinking of you, your husband and your children as you grieve. Please know that I am thinking and praying for you all.

  15. Thank you for the bravery you show in telling us about this and letting us pray for and mourn with you.

  16. I never comment, so I’m sorry that I’m a stranger to you, but I enjoy your blog very much and I just wanted to send along a little extra love. I’ll be thinking of you.

  17. I am so, so sad to read this. 🙁 Praying for comfort and peace as you walk this road. Thank you for sharing from your heart.

  18. Holding you up to God in our prayers, your readers are all over the world so hoping it brings you some comfort that you are being lifted up in prayer every hour of the day. Sending you lots of love x

  19. You and yours touch so many hearts around the world – please stop and breath – and feel the whole of us giving you one world wide hug – we are praying for you.

  20. Sending hugs from halfway around the world and thinking of you. And thank you for sharing. When we lost our 2nd pregnancy, so many women came forth to tell me their stories as well. It comforted my broken heart. I pray for that comfort for you as well! -Katie S

    Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort those who are in any trouble, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.
    2 Corinthians 1:3,4

  21. So sorry to hear this. It is never easy. May Heavenly Father bless you and your family and may you feel the comfort of his Spirit.

  22. So sorry to hear. I can relate – also lost our first little one. Many tears and much heart soreness. Am praying that God will comfort you as you grieve and pour out His grace on you and your family. Go easy on yourself & rest on Him.

  23. Thank you so much for sharing your story, it’s a pain many lock in their hearts and it takes great courage to open yourself up. a year on I cried upon the day, tears so fierce I thought they would never stop. but a few weeks on a read this, the pain still lingers yet my eyes are dry. God is working healing my heart as I’m confident he will heal yours in time. May the lord bless you with a time of mourning, for we need that time, may he bless you with memories that don’t fade, and may he bless you with a re-awaking to sunshine when your heart is ready to feel it’s warmth again.

  24. Dear brave Se7en,
    Thank you so much for sharing your heart, for touching our own deep stories in this way.
    We love you and we cry with you, and we look forward to that day when we will finally get to hold the little hands we have lost.
    Love, and prayers, still.

  25. I am so very sad to read about your loss. Your little Hood #9 must have been loved so much by all of you. I will be thinking of you and praying for you xx

  26. Thank you for being so brave and generous to post that. I am so very sorry to hear about the loss of your previous little baby and am praying that the Lord will heal your hearts. How wonderful to know that you will meet him/her one day in Heaven but how difficult that you have to wait for that day. Sending love from the UK, Julie

  27. Thank you for sharing your heartache. I’m so sad you lost your baby . . . what a broken world we live in . Just wanted to let you know I am thinking of you. Sorry we didn’t get to chat more on Sunday. Lots of love to you all.

  28. Gosh it is sad and I am very sad to read it but so glad and honored that you shared it with us.

    You would have been 7+2.

    You are depressed for a reason. It’s ok, just let it be. Stay with the feeling as you are doing.

    I am thinking of you and sending big hugs. Happy times will come again but I want to be here for you in the sad moments too.

  29. I’m so sorry for your loss. I’ve been away from the computer for a while and just saw this post. Losing a little one is so difficult. I take great comfort in the knowlegde that I will know them in heaven. Prayers.

  30. I am so sorry for your loss! We lost a little boy at 22 months…life goes on, but is never the same. One just learns to live a new kind of normal. May the God of comfort be with you during this time. Blessings xx

  31. Thank you, Lande… I totally understand “the new kind of normal” and I am really, really sorry for your loss, that is a terrible pain to endure. Thank you so much for stopping by, I do so appreciate it. Wishing you all the best.

  32. I didn’t see this post – so beautifully written despite the despair you felt then and probably still feel now.

    I am so very sorry for your loss.


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