Being a mother

Kind of a strange follow - up topic to the last, but I got a P.S. (Parent Support) Newsletter in the mail today and it's gotten me thinking...

A lot of people believe that God sends us children just as much to change us as for us to raise them. I think that's especially true with my first daughter, Angelica Grace. It seems easier at times to just focus on the child we have with us, less awkward to just ignore the fact that we lost her older sister that dreadful October of 2008. Well-meaning people talk about our "first" mother's day and father's day while we remember in our hearts it's not our first at all.

Well-meaning relatives talk about Danali being the first great grand-daughter, while we quietly remember her older sister. I think that's what hurts the most- that a baby nobody met can be so easily forgotten. But not for me... I read a poem in the newsletter today that I just wanted to share, as it touched me.

What makes a mother
-Author Unknown

I thought of you and closed my eyes and prayed to God today
I asked "What makes a mother?" And I know I heard Him say.

"A mother has a baby" This we know is true. "But God, can you be a mother if your baby's not with you?"

"Yes, you can," He replied with confidence in his voice. "I give many women babies. When they go is not their choice.

Some I send for a lifetime and others for the day. And some I send to feel your womb but there's no need to stay."

"I just don't understand this, God. I want my baby to be here."

He took a deep breath and cleared His throat and then I saw a tear.

" I wish that I could show you what your child is doing today. If you could see your child's smile, with all the other children and hear her say...

'We go to Earth to learn our lessons, of love and life and fear. My mommy loved me oh so much, I got to come straight here. I feel so lucky to have a mom who had so much love for me. I learned my lessons very quickly. My mommy set me free.

I miss my mommy oh so much but I visit her every day. When she goes to sleep at night, on her pillow's where I lay.'

"So you see my dear sweet ones, your children are okay. Your babies are born in My home and this is where they'll stay.

They'll wait for you with Me, until your lesson's through. And on the day that you come home they'll be at the gates for you.

So now you see what makes a Mother. It's the feeling in your heart. It's the love you had so much of right from the very start.

Though some on earth may not realize you are a mother until their time is done. They'll be up here with me one day and know you're the best one!"


Angelica has taught me to truly take things in life moment by moment. I can't help but worry I might not have Dani as long as I would like. Sometimes it terrifies me. When I haven't heard her in a while, I hurry to check on her- Sometimes I touch her just to make sure she's still breathing. I try not to torture myself too much with worry, but I do ask myself every day- if this were my last day with her, am I satisfied that I spent as much time as I could with her, that I did everything I could to show her she was loved, that I gave as much as I possibly could to her in the time she was with me?

I am excited to tell Dani about her older sister - the angel who takes care of us from heaven, who intercedes on our behalf, who prayed for us to be able to have another child...

There is so much "letting go" to be done in becoming a parent. "Letting go" of sleep, of schedules, of predictability, but also "letting go" of the security that what you love most will always be with you. Angelica was not ours to keep. She was ours to care for and I remember this with our beautiful baby Dani too. She is only entrusted to us- we are given the great privilege of caring for her, kissing her, changing her, and loving her all the days of her life, nomatter how many they may be... she has been cherished from the womb and I pray we will never take her for granted.

A special thanks to all those who recognize parents as the parents they are, wherever their children might be. Your support means so much...