I never seemed to have the right words.
I didn’t have the right words at four years old when my parents lost my 11-month-old brother, and I never seemed to have the right words as I watched family members and close friends lose both the new life growing within their wombs and the beautiful, precious life resting in their weary arms.
So, I did what I thought would offer the most comfort.
I simply tried to show up and be there the best I could.
I shopped for their favorite treats.
I dropped meals off on front porches and toys for siblings.
I wrapped them in the biggest hug possible and promised to pray even harder.
There are moments in life when no one will have the right words to relieve or ease your pain.
That’s where hope comes into play. A hope that cannot be found in this world.
A few years ago, I remember catching word of a sweet friend and colleague who lost her baby at 16-weeks. My heart sank into my chest, and a lump slowly grew in my throat. I couldn’t imagine. She had announced the pregnancy just a few weeks earlier. She was so happy and so excited. And then suddenly, their precious baby boy and third pregnancy were gone.
After fumbling through small gifts and messages, I prayed to God for the words. And one day, during back-and-forth messaging to check in with her, I quickly typed these words:
You know what? I like to think of those precious angel babies as Heaven’s gatekeepers. The first ones you will meet when you reach Heaven’s golden gates.
I am not sure if the words provided her with any peace of mind. But, those were the words God placed upon my heart that day.
I never fully understood the pain of losing my own babies or the hope of my own words until I sat alone and numb in a quiet ultrasound room, nine weeks pregnant, when the ultrasound technician quietly asked, “Would you like a photo as a keepsake?”
I managed to mumble a “Yes, please” as I got dressed and waited to see my OBGYN.
Miscarriage number three in less than two years.
I don’t think anyone at that moment could have said anything to make my shattered heart feel better. I was broken. I was angry. I was breathless. All while completely voiceless. My entire being wanted to scream, “Why me?! Why my babies?!” But the only thing my body could muster the energy to do was to let the tears fall—hard and fast.
Truthfully, there aren’t many, or any, words that can quickly heal a pain that deep.
The only thing that helped at that moment was knowing that—while there may always be a quiet, painful hole in my heart on this earth that simply can never be mended or filled—Heaven keeps no record of time, and Heaven heals all hurt.
When losing a baby leaves your entire being with a void so overwhelming that you simply think you can’t go on, take heart, precious mama, God has a plan to heal your pain.
When your heart feels as though it has shattered into an infinite number of pieces, God has a beautiful, unfathomable plan to piece it back together . . .
The day you reunite with your precious baby once again, at Heaven’s gates.
The moment you will finally see them again, and the pain will disappear for good.
It’s almost impossible for our human hearts to understand, but God’s plans? They are always and forever greater.
For, I’m convinced that angel babies are Heaven’s gatekeepers.
This content was originally published here.