Anna Joy, Forever Held

We may have only carried our babies on this side of eternity for a short while, but they are forever held in our hearts. In this series, Hope Moms share how they have held their precious babies throughout the months and years following their home going. What has remembering your hope baby looked like for you? We would love to have you write about the traditions you have started to represent your hope baby in your holiday celebrations, family photos, home, etc., or how you celebrate their birthday or heaven day. Find out how you can share your story HERE.

---

When I was growing up, my parents told me about my sister who was stillborn at around 21 weeks. I’m so thankful I knew of her existence, but I vividly remember wishing I knew her and what she would have been like as my big sister. My parents chose not to bury her or name her, so instead, her life was only a small memory we all carried quietly. I never thought it was wrong that they made those choices, but as soon as I was faced with similar decisions, I knew I wanted to name my baby and somehow carry her with me forever.

Keepsakes and Remembrance Days

I love holding onto Anna’s memory through physical means and milestone celebrations. The hospital gifted us with a beautiful box of keepsakes including a small onesie that I hold in my hands on occasion, and a gold ring I keep on my necklace. My husband wanted tattoos of just her name, so we each designed one for ourselves and placed them on our forearm for all to see. Dear friends bought us a specific tree in honor of her that reminded me of her life. This tree blooms gorgeous, fragrant, pink flowers around October —her birth month—and this past year it surprised us with its first bloom on Thanksgiving. Then, at Christmas, we especially enjoyed hanging the memory ornaments and a small stocking with an ‘A’ on it.

Anna’s due date was the first important milestone we met. I worried about how to make the day perfect to the point of over thinking it and making no plans at all. At the last minute, we went to the beach with friends who were there the day she died, which was more than sufficient. Since I struggled so much with planning her due date, I decided ahead of time I wanted to celebrate her first birthday at a local restaurant called “Anna’s Pizza”. Close friends were invited for a “dutch” lunch so the pressure of planning and cost were off my shoulders. Through that first year, I decided that my remembrance days don’t have to be highly planned and organized events, but more importantly they should be days I connect with my Savior, my husband, and loved ones over our shared loss.

Forever Held in our Minds

We have many thoughtful reminders and pictures around our home, but where I hold Anna most is in my mind. I can close my eyes and remember each perfect feature of her face and body. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I will most likely be aware of her absence more than anyone else because of the unique bond a mother has with her baby. Because of this, I allow myself “Anna time” as needed so I can grieve and relive some of the important memories surrounding her life and death. I notice that if I hold those times as sacred, and give her memory the attention it deserves, I no longer struggle to make it through the inopportune moments of grief that sometimes arise.

For example, we recently went to Disney with family for the first time since her death. I was immediately aware that this would have been her first Disney trip, so I decided I would think of her each time I saw a pink flower. Thankfully, Disney World in the Spring is full of beautiful pink blossoms of all shades and sizes, even the same one we planted in her honor.

The One who Holds

I held Anna for only 17 weeks while she was alive, and about four hours after she passed. The time I physically held her is something I reflect on often. I’m more than grateful for that time, yet there is always a sting of why I didn’t keep holding her body longer. I read blogs of other moms who had days and many beautiful pictures with their children. Comparing my story to theirs caused me to regret not keeping her body with us longer or taking more pictures. As a result, envy and guilt crept in. I had to accept the reality that no amount of time could have ever been “enough” to heal that void in my life. Understanding this helped me move forward instead of staying stuck in my self-imposed guilt.

Through my own pain and regret, I realized that in order to carry on as bereaved parents, we must learn to hold our precious ones in a new way as our life on earth continues without them. Instead of dwelling on my inability to physically hold Anna again, I choose to envision Jesus holding her. And every time my arms ache, I remember Paul’s words in 2 Corinthians 5:8 which remind me that her soul is present with the Lord, and her body that I long to hold was merely a temporary vessel for a world she isn’t meant to be in. It is essential to our healing and spiritual life to always hold our children, our losses, and our entire lives as surrendered to the Lord, remembering Who holds our babies for eternity, and Who holds us as we grieve.

“But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so God will bring with Him those who sleep in Jesus.”
1 Thessalonians 4:13

Holding onto Truth

Finally, as my grief has evolved, I’ve chosen to hold onto truth instead of the pain or what could have been. My hands are held open, so to speak, before the Lord in surrender of Anna’s life and how I will live without her. Instead, I hold onto Him and His unchanging Word because it never falls short to satisfy the void of my empty arms and Anna’s absent body.

“This is my comfort in my affliction, that your promise gives me life.”
Psalm 119:50

“If your law had not been my delight, I would have perished in my affliction.”
Psalm 119:92

In response to this comfort, praise and worship of God overflows out of reverence and thankfulness. I read in a Hope Mommies submission shortly after Anna’s death that said, in essence, “I feel closest to my baby when I worship, because it is then I know we are doing the same thing at the same time.” I have held onto this depiction ever since, believing it is true. It gives me deep consolation to be fully present with my Savior who holds my baby forever, knowing I’m worshiping Him in unison with her. There are many ways to hold on to our children through memories, pictures, keepsakes, and celebrations. However, I believe the way we can truly hold our babies near is by continuously beholding the Father.

“I have set the Lord always before me; Because He is at my right hand I shall not be moved. Therefore, my heart is glad, and my glory rejoices; my flesh also will rest in hope.”
Psalm 16:8-9

---

I am married to Justin and Hope Mommy to Anna Joy. We live in sunny south Florida where I love reading, writing, teaching, and just being with family & friends! I work in the hospital as a RN, and humbly serve as volunteer Nurse Manager at our local pregnancy resource center, Care Net. My personal ministry passions include leading women to deeper understanding of Jesus’ truth through their marriage struggles, sexuality, and miscarriage.

We would be honored to share your story as a Hope Mom on our blog. On Saturdays we feature Hope Moms’ stories in order to showcase God’s faithfulness even in the midst of such deep sorrow. If you would like to have your story shared on our blog for this purpose, learn more and submit here.

---

Widget not in any sidebars

---