My Story - The Memorial Service

Well, I’ve arrived to the part of my story where I will share about the memorial service our post abortive group had for our babies.  This is a really difficult thing to “re-live” as I type it up to post on the blog.  I sort of dread it, but at the same time, know that I shouldn’t.  It’s not easy to dwell on these painful memories and the tears want to flow again.  This will be a lengthy post.

I’ll begin with a recount of what happened the night before the day of the memorial service.

September 27, 2009

This evening, my husband and I were about to eat some dinner together, and I noticed that one of the ladies from the post abortive group had called my cell phone, and I had missed the call.  She was a young woman whom I had felt led to reach out to and love on during the study weeks.  She came to my mind often as I sensed such pain in her heart, and we went to lunch together or would converse over text or phone on occasion.  I will call her Sarah as I tell this little part of her story, although that is not her real name. I have also changed the name of the little girl.

I called her back.  We started to chat and [my husband] was around so he could hear the conversation.  The kids were all gone so I had the freedom to talk.  Sarah was telling me a great story about that morning as she was watching the three year olds at her church there was this little girl Bailey who had come in and wouldn’t stop crying.  She explained to me that about a week ago she had thought of the name Bailey for her baby but not too seriously.  Well, this little Bailey at church kept crying and wanting her mommy and daddy and kept wanting Sarah to hold her and followed her around the whole time.  Sarah even prayed with her and told Bailey how beautiful she was and how much God loved her and did end up holding her.  It was SUCH a touching story of God’s grace and Him revealing to Sarah things He needed to reveal to her.  He was assuring her He was there in her life and comforting her.  I absolutely loved the story and encouraged her about it and some other things.  She was kind of questioning if what had happened on Thursday at the previous post abortive meeting and also if the event with Bailey was really God or not.  I assured her it certainly was.  I also asked her on the phone if she was all ready for tomorrow and if she had written the letter.  But I assured her that even if no letter, she should share the story as her part.  I knew that story would touch everyone’s heart. 

Anyway, [my husband] could hear all my side of this conversation.  And when I hung up, he asked about what was going on in the morning (even though I’ve had it written on the calendar for a couple of weeks).  I told him it was the memorial service.  He said something about he thought that it was just part of a regular meeting.  I told him no, that it was a special memorial service.  And he asked where it was.  And I didn’t even want him asking me any more questions and when he paused after some question, I changed the conversation.  It was too late to talk to him about everything then.  Too late to make any difference for Monday morning.  Almost…

I had so longed for my family to be part of the memorial service…but it just wasn’t meant to be.  And now, I can say that I am glad that my kids were not a part of it because it was such an emotional and sobering event and they would have been very uncomfortable.  But, I still wish my husband could have been there.

September 28, 2009

Well, I got up from bed in ample time.  I made sure to take everything to car before [my daughter] came upstairs so she wouldn’t be asking me what all I was taking with me since I had three different bags…I didn’t really want to eat. 

Sometime while I was in the bathroom getting ready, [my husband] came in our bedroom and left two papers on the desk for me…The first paper was a note to me which made me more upset and angry.  The second paper was a little letter to Grace Noel which touched my heart and brought tears to my eyes.  The first letter to me angered me because I couldn’t fathom how he could be so clueless about not having stood more strongly by my side throughout this whole time and not having been more willing to have more communication.  

I know I probably should have been more open in my own communication with him regarding all that I needed or wanted from him during the weeks past, but I had been terribly torn between knowing if that would have been pushing him to deal with this and stand by me in a way that he was not able or ready to do at that time. 

I forced myself to eat some breakfast and left the house in time to stop first at the grocery store to purchase a rose for Grace.

… I found the perfect rose, white with dark pink/red edges.    Purchased it and headed on to the service.  I was crying right away just traveling in the car and thinking about the morning ahead.  I listened to Footprints in the Sand, Here I Am, and Grace Flows Down all the way there.  Footprints in the Sand was the biggy one for me yesterday.  So much sorrow to deal with. 

I arrived at our meeting location and began to set all my things out on a table that was beautifully decorated and prepared for whatever we had brought to share.  I was awfully emotional.  The tears wanted to pour out like a waterfall, and I kept trying to hold them back.  The service began with prayer and one of the group leaders saying a few words and sharing some things about grief.  A song was played which fit so perfectly with what was happening in our lives.   I posted it before on September 28^th, but here it is again.  It is a Point of Grace song called “Heal the Wound”.

I used to wish that I could rewrite history
I used to dream that each mistake could be erased
Then I could just pretend
I never knew the me back then

I used to pray that You would take this shame away
Hide all the evidence of who I've been
But it's the memory of
The place You brought me from
That keeps me on my knees
And even though I'm free

Heal the wound but leave the scar
A reminder of how merciful You are
I am broken, torn apart
Take the pieces of this heart
And heal the wound but leave the scar

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8rAzOvUzc2c

I have not lived a life that boasts of anything

I don’t take pride in what I bring

But I’ll build an altar with

The rubble that You’ve found me in

And every stone will sing

Of what You can redeem

Heal the wound but leave the scar
A reminder of how merciful You are
I am broken, torn apart
Take the pieces of this heart
And heal the wound but leave the scar

Don't let me forget

Everything You've done for me
Don't let me forget
The beauty in the suffering

Heal the wound but leave the scar
A reminder of how merciful You are
I am broken, torn apart
Take the pieces of this heart
And heal the wound but leave the scar

Oh my!!!  Does that song say it SO perfectly well!!!!   PERFECT song for the occasion and what’s happened and how I feel about it all.  After the song, each took turns going up to speak and share whatever we wanted to share.  I explained about the Healing Grace figurine, the candle I made, how I had placed crushed sea shells all around the votive representing all the moments I missed with Grace Noel.  But that in the future, I would have that many and even more moments with her.  I explained about the figurine’s arms being empty and longing to hold.  I read the letter I had written to Grace:

My dearest Grace Noel,

I am so happy that God has given me your name this year.  I love calling you by your God-given name.  It is precious.  You are absolutely precious.  It is so emotionally difficult to write this letter to you because of my great sorrow of the circumstances that now bring me to write you this letter.  I long to express many things that I never had the opportunity to say to you in person. 

I love you.  I loved you twenty four years ago.  However, I didn’t know what true, sacrificial love really was back then.  I had much to learn about love.  And I had a lot of overwhelming fears that God has been working for many years to free me from.  I am so sorry I sacrificed your earthly life for the safety and comfort of my own.  Will you please forgive me?  I know I have asked this of you many times before, but I cannot go on in this letter without asking it again. 

I often wonder what you may have looked like.  Would you look more like your daddy or me?  Or would you be a nice mixture of the both of us.  Your brother, [  ], looks just like me, and your brother, [  ], looks like your dad.  And your sister, [  ], is a beautiful mixture of the both of us.  Would you have looked like her?

Each year, I think about how old you would be and wonder what you would be doing in your life?  This year, as your cousin [  ], who is the age you would be, had her first baby, I wonder if you may have also been having your first baby and our grandchild. 

I’m sorry I never held you in my arms, fed you at my breast, or held your hand.  I’m sorry I never comforted your scraped knee, covered your face with kisses, or hugged your tears away.  If I could do all that now, I would.  I have cried countless tears for you.

You are my first.  You are the child that I now always feel like I am missing.  You are the child I still long for.  Oh, if I could bring you back, I would. 

I want to tell you how much I look forward to the day when we will be reunited.  The day when I will see you face to face.  I imagine the completely overwhelming joy that will pour through my heart, mind, and soul at the sight of you.  I imagine hugging you so tightly, kissing you, loving you.   I imagine you looking at me with equal joy and a smile on your face.  I thank God for that vision and His current assurance in my heart that you do not resent me or hold against me what I did.  I thank Him for His assurance that when we come together in His presence, only forgiveness, love, and extreme joy will be among us.  After my greeting with you, I envision moving aside to allow your daddy and your brothers and sister the same privilege.  And I will be so inexplicably happy to have our family truly all together.  God knows how important it is for me for my family to be all together in the here now.  How much more so it will be that day in the future!

Grace Noel, I know that God formed your inward parts; He wove you in my womb. You were fearfully and wonderfully made; wonderful are all of God’s works.  Your frame was not hidden from Him, when you were made in secret, and skillfully wrought in the depths of the earth.  God’s eyes saw your unformed substance even though my eyes never had that privilege.   And in His book were written all the days that were ordained for you, when as yet there was not one of them.  I know that you are forever a part of me that can never be forgotten or denied.  You are absolutely beautiful and glorious in His sight and in mine.  Until we see each other again, I will lovingly hold you close in my mind, heart, and soul. 

I love you!

Mom 

Following the reading of my letter, I read the letter my husband had written to Grace and left for me that morning:

My little angel Grace,

I love you very much.  I am saddened by the decision I made those many years ago.  That decision kept me from seeing you grow up.  I think back on seeing your brothers and sister grow up, and I am grieved to know I missed your first step, your first words and you saying daddy for the first time.  I’m sorry to say that I tried to block the memory from my mind in order to not suffer pain or grief.  These many years later I realize how wrong I was.  I ask your forgiveness.

I do have hope, though; as God has showed me that I will be reunited with you one day.  That will truly be a glorious day.  I long for the day to hear my first child call me daddy.

I love you,

Daddy

After an extremely difficult and teary reading of the letters I also shared the following words and played the “Grace Flows Down” song.

God spoke to me with three special songs throughout the time of doing the post abortive Bible study while I remembered and grieved the loss of Grace Noel.  These three songs were:  "Footprints in the Sand", "Grace Flows Down", and "Here I Am".  The most meaningful of all and most important was "Grace Flows Down". 

"Grace Flows Down", not only has part of Grace Noel’s name in the title and the lyrics, but also proclaims to me what an amazing, boundless, immeasurable grace God has poured over me and over what I did 24 years ago.  Words are too weak to describe this grace that God has revealed to and granted me.  I stand in complete and humble awe.

Amazing Grace
How sweet the sound
Amazing Love
Now flowing down
From hands and feet
That were nailed to the tree
His grace flows down and covers me

It covers me
It covers me
It covers me
And covers me

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5YWiH90AYhU

Each of the women took turns sharing beautiful things in remembrance of their babies.  I enjoyed each one so much.  It was all very special and moving.

Then we were all done, but it was so hard to be done.  This is it? ...  There were hugs and encouraging words all around…It was hard to concentrate on exactly everything being said because I was in so much sorrow and grief and felt confused…

We all picked up our things and said our goodbyes until we would see each other at our next and final post abortive group meeting.

I drove aimlessly away without a clue as to what I was doing or where I was going.  I thought of MANY possibilities, including calling [my husband], but nothing felt right. 

I parked at a scenic area and sat there staring out the car window with endless thoughts rambling on and on.  I drove to a sandwich shop and ate alone in the car in that parking lot.  Finally, I drove towards home.  My driving was a bit impaired by my grief, and I decided to take a back road home avoiding the fast freeway.  I ended up driving to a park near home, finding an empty parking area by a pond and sitting there in the car lost in my sorrow and my thoughts.   That’s where I tried to journal but really couldn’t. 

I’m absolutely catatonic.  I long to collapse in someone’s arms but there are no human arms to hold me right now.  Only God’s arms hold me.  A handful of people have crossed my mind to go to for comfort, but no.  After pondering each of them, none seem to be answer for my desperate need.  There’s only one place I feel I should run to and that is home.  But how can I go home like this?  I’m a mess!!!  My head throbs from all the crying.  My eyes are all puffy.  I have two roses to give account for having.  I need to talk all this out to someone but can’t talk it out.  The emotions and the sorrow are all consuming.

I’m sitting in the car…I’ve sat in the car for the last two hours…

Grief can be all consuming.  I look forward to better days ahead because today, grief is overwhelming.  I’m wiped out.  I don’t even feel like writing.

Finally, I told myself to go home—forced myself go home.  Things at home went on as “normal” for the rest of the family, but they were far from normal for me.  My husband did ask me once, briefly, if I was okay.  I told him that I wasn’t and that my eyes hurt terribly.  He gave me a little hug and that was the end of that conversation.  We ordered Chinese take out for dinner, I lost myself in my own thoughts and a few things I had to get done, and the rest of the family did their own thing the rest of the evening.

September 29, 2009

I feel awful this morning.  I feel beat up physically and emotionally.  How I made it through yesterday afternoon and evening I don’t really know.  I’m drained.  I need something.  I long for something but have no idea what that is except for Grace Noel.  I’m looking for comfort, for joy.  But all I feel at this moment is emptiness, loss, pain.  I’m grieved.  I don’t know how much longer this will last, but right now there’s no escaping and no denying.  I could write on and on about how awful I feel right now.  Great sadness is draped over me like a blanket…I despise having to go through another day faking my life.

Next posts:  Letters to Grace, My Story – Telling Our Children