Until I Get Home...The Birth of “Bearing Others Burdens”

Little girls are born with dreams. Some dream of being a nurse, others of being an artist, athlete, ballerina, chef, soldier, executive, entrepreneur, or a wife. We are taught that the sky's the limit, so we dream. Included in these dreams, millions of women, now and throughout history, have dreamed of being a mom.

As a young girl, I wasn’t particularly brainy or athletic, but I loved babies. I couldn’t wait to be around a baby or to be old enough to babysit. Most of all, I dreamed of someday having my own children.

1982 was my year. My husband and I were living in Bethany, Oklahoma and life was good. We were both working, living close to family and friends, really, just enjoying life and then I became pregnant. For me, my dream had come true. My own little baby would be born in April 1983. Added to my joy was the excitement that my sister was also pregnant. What could be better? Sisters pregnant at the same time, babies due the same month, cousins who would be friends.

A few weeks into my pregnancy, I knew something was wrong. My mom took me to the doctor and the doctor told me to “go home, put your feet up and call me when it is over”. Horrified, I went home, cried, put my feet up and willed my child to be safe. But it wasn’t to be and a few weeks later, October 12, 1982, our baby went home to heaven.

To say I was devastated is an understatement. It is difficult to put into words what that loss meant to me and how it was another tool shaping and molding me. As far as I knew, no one in my circle had ever experienced a miscarriage. Several years after her death, I learned my grandmother had had several miscarriages, but those were looked on in shame, so she kept her pain silent and was not able to comfort me in my pain. It was a pain we suffered alone. Everyone around me wanted me to “get better”, “move on”, “know that I would have other children (as if anyone can know that), “this was because of sin in your life” and “there must have been something wrong with the child and that’s why God took it from me, so just be thankful that it happened early”.

Compounding my grief, loneliness and confusion was the reality that my sister was still carrying her child and I needed to be happy so I wouldn’t bring her down.

Due to the circumstances of how my miscarriage happened, the hospital asked me if I would like for them to discard or return to me. I could not bear the thought of discard even though I could not distinguish one iota of a feature, so I put my child in a beautiful carved jewelry box my aunt had given me and had a little funeral in our backyard in Bethany, Oklahoma, under an Oak Tree.

Each year, October brought questions about what that child would have become, and my heart ached for when I would be home and meet my child. God, in His loving kindness, blessed us with two children. First a son, and then almost four years later, a daughter. But to us, we have three children.

Fast forward to 2017. Our daughter was expecting her second child. God, in His wisdom and graciousness planned our paths and allowed me to be with our daughter when the realization hit her that without a miracle, she would not carry this child to term. The grief that I had known so well came bubbling back, but I also knew that in keeping with God’s word and plan, I could “weep with those who weep” and “bear one another’s burden”. February 2017, never to be forgotten.

Fall of 2017 brought news of another baby. This precious child was due April 18, 2018. Elation and excitement. The baby was due on its uncle’s birthday, but Mimi was hoping it would be two days late and fall on her birthday. You see, the moment we know of these precious ones, plans and hopes begin to form. Love has already gripped our hearts. October 2017, God in His wisdom, took that child also. We had seen the ultrasound, heard the heartbeat, joy and devastation. By faith, I focus on God’s love and wisdom and see His hand as He once again allowed us to be with our daughter, but the grief, although not silent or stuffed like mine had been, was so deep.

April 2019 brought our family its fourth precious child we would not meet until we get home. This time, the loss came to our son and daughter-in-law.

Why? We do not know. So, we rest on what we do know. “Children are a gift from the LORD; they are a reward from Him.” Psalm 127:3 and “The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away; may the name of the LORD be praised.” Psalm 1:21b

As a mom who had experienced this deep pain, I wanted our children to have a safe place to remember, grieve and talk about their losses. The Old Testament gives us stories where remembrance stones were erected to remember what God had brought His people through, and for them to tell future generations. “I will utter hidden things, things from of old,” the psalmist said, “things we have heard and known, things our ancestors have told us” (Psalm 78:2-3) – to help you remember…to remind you of God’s power…to give you trust and confidence in Him… teach you to lean on and trust Him.

Most of these precious children who are lost early in pregnancy, do not have funeral services, graves, or gravestones for parents to visit. I believe God placed it on my heart to give my children a “remembrance stone” to remember their children, but mostly to remember God’s love and faithfulness. The remembrance is a little quilt along with a card. The card captures what that little life meant to me and my hope and faith that they are safe in the arms of Jesus and “Until I Get Home”, I know they are home.

This card was written to the first grandchild we haven't met yet, but the sentiment applies to them all:

Boy or girl, we do not know

Nor the plan that said “you had to go”

But with eyes of faith, we’ll wait to see

How a loving Father used your little life to form a change in me

And so for now, bask in his love

With eyes of sight, we know not of

Until we meet on Heaven’s Shore

You’re in my heart forever more.

All my love little ones………. Mimi, Nana

June 21, 2020 – Father’s Day, our pastor gave a challenge to think missionally. He asked if we had a passion, something that we could not get off our minds. This has been on my heart since October 1982. I was never sure what to do with it then, and 38 years later, I still was not certain my passion would help anyone other than my children. However, I knew if God was in it, then it would succeed to bring light and hope to families who are hurting. It is the family after all that is affected. Yes, we know the mother’s pain, but rest assured that the fathers, grandparents, and siblings are also grieving. So many times, this is a silent or shameful grief. But as light and salt, I want to be a vessel to bring hope and the good news that Jesus is the answer and the safe keeper of their children. These children are not lost, they are home.

Proverbs 16:9 tells us “The heart of man plans his way, but the LORD establishes his steps”. My plan was to help those who had lost a child through miscarriage, and I believe God was in that plan, but He led us to focus on cancer first. I thought my faith was big, and I planned for 15 bags even though I did not have any contacts, but knowing this was the plan for us, I began talking about Bearing Others Burdens to almost everyone I met. God guided our steps to Julie at Vanderbilt-Ingram Cancer Center which began a wonderful relationship and an opportunity to donate our bags to those going through chemo, radiation, and stem cell transplants.

Fast forward a few months and our steps have been guided once again with opportunities to gift our comfort bags to families who have experienced miscarriage and loss of a loved one. We are so incredibly thankful for this opportunity to share the love of Jesus with others and hope you will join us in prayer and support.