So... we are all moved. It has been a terribly long, difficult journey, but it’s over. I will write more on the journey itself in another post, but I felt compelled to jot down a brief account of my experience this weekend.
My mother came to visit for a week and I needed to drive her back home to Steubenville. I took the opportunity to grab a few extra kids, friends of my boys, and bring them back to NY for a week on the Padgett Homestead.
My few hours spent in the town I had lived in for 13 years were so delightful. It was different to experience it as a visitor; rather than a resident. I had a few errands to accomplish, but I decided to take a few moments and visit the cemetery.
In the chaos of our last truck load and final move out in the beginning of June, I didn’t have time to go to the cemetery where the first of our 5 lost children is buried. I felt like I needed to say a real “goodbye” to Felicity.
My miscarriage with Felicity was the furthest along of all of them. She was 11 weeks young when we lost her. She is the only one of our miscarriages that gave us enough remains to actually bury. We had a very simple service, attended by few, to place our baby in the ground. That was 7 years ago.
This brief trip allowed me a chance to visit her alone. It was very much needed.
I felt a sense of guilt at leaving her by herself in a town in which we no longer lived. It seemed that I was deserting her. Yet, I knew the truth was different than my feelings. The fact is that Felicity is with her saintly siblings in Heaven, awaiting the joyous reunion with her family. Though we honor her remains by properly burying them, she does not reside in the dirt. She is at peace.
This visit was a great reminder to me that Felicity actually lived. She is more than a memory or a bird tattooed on my back. She is more than the concept of a future heavenly reunion or a prayer warrior interceding for the rest of us. She was flesh and blood. She was a REAL baby, and nothing less. It was that reminder that allowed me to weep. Once again, I had the chance to grieve her. And that grief allowed her to enter deeper into my heart, filling me with love and peace.
Miscarriages are easy for some to forget. So often, the loss is experienced without the benefit of a tangible connection to the object of the loss. I am grateful for the one out of 5 I have to tangibly grieve. I needed those moments alone with my first lost baby. It allowed me to remember all of them and trust in the benefit they are providing in Heaven for the rest of this crazy herd.
It was very brief, but I had my chance to say “goodbye” to the baby we are leaving behind.
Farewell, dear Felicity. Though we have moved away from the place of your resting place, I have taken you with me in my heart, to cherish and hope.
Till we meet again.