Hankerchiefs and Tears

This morning I put on a jacket and put my hands in the pockets and
pulled out a wrinkled ball of white linen. It was one of the hankerchiefs
I am forever misplacing. I know that it is a bit old-fashioned but I
like to use handerchiefs instead of tissues (unless I have a cold). I have
always been one easily moved to tears, so it is almost necessary to
keep one on hand unless I want to be dripping all over my sleeves.

This morning as I smoothed and refolded the cloth, I thought of my
second son, Jack. I realized I had not worn this jacket since a few
months after his birth. It isn't quite maternity but it is larger than I
usually wear so that is why I was wearing it then and why I am
wearing it today. I was still crying quite a lot those days. A thought,
a kind word, or a mother and child, would trigger a flood.

This month, on the 19th, my Jack would have been 2 years old.
The first year moved by so slowly but this second year has flown by.
Today, as I reflect on where I was then and the place I am in now, I
am so thankful. It took me a good 6 months to be able to even walk
by the baby department at the store, much less go into that section
and buy something. But, by and by, when it was required, as with
each step I had to take, God supplied the strength to do it.

Today, I go to visit my OB to check on the little one growing inside me.
She likes to move around a lot. Which is such a blessing because I
can not help each time she somersaults inside me but think of the one
who was perfectly still. Each kick and turn reminds me she is okay.

Lots of people who talk to me ask me, "How many is this now?",
referring to how many children we have. I always say five. Then,
"When is this one due?" I reply, "May."  The next question is
almost inevitably, "How old are they?" I then go down the
line: Ty (10), Tess (8), Amelia (4), and Jack who would have
been two this month. The reactions I receive vary. The ones I
have a hard time with are the ones who say, "So this will be the
4th, then", as if they need to correct my math. Or, the ones that are
so uncomfortable with me talking about him, that they change the
subject or end our conversation abruptly.

I understand there are people who don't want to talk about the
children they don't have here on earth anymore. I wouldn't
judge what is private or painful enough that they don't
or can't speak of it. But I am okay with it. I think of Jack daily
and he isn't less my child, just because he isn't with me here on
earth. The child I carry is my 5th child and I
will continue to refer to her as such. I hope that you won't be
made to feel embarrassed or uncomfortable with me. I hope that
you will feel the joy I have about being blessed with 5 children,
living here or in heaven. And if I cry a little, and have to pull out
my hankerchief, don't feel bad, just know that you were a part of
an intimate moment of memory for me. This is not a reproach, just
a gentle reminder to take the cue of the one you are speaking with.

God is using my openness to help others who have been in
similar circumstances. I won't ever be ashamed of sharing my
feelings if it assists others as they wade through their pain.
I am so grateful that as his birthday approaches that I am not in
the depths of despair, but I am also thankful that I am able to think
of him, remember, and have a heart tender enough to shed a few tears.