When a Piece of Your Heart is in Heaven
Anyone with living children or anyone who has seen a funny video about parenting knows the joke: you finally get your kid to bed and suddenly, you ache to be with them. You want to snuggle them, hold their hand, touch them, just be in their presence. Even if they stay asleep and have no idea you are there, you still feel a pull to simply be with them. It doesn’t matter if every ounce of your body is exhausted, you can’t turn off being a parent. You can’t stop loving them just because they’re not with you. When they don’t need taken care of, you don’t suddenly stop being a parent. It doesn’t matter age, distance, or if they’re off in dreamworld. You are always their parent, you’re always madly in love with your child, and you miss them the moment they’re not in your arms. That feeling, that pull, that sense of something missing when they’re not with you. That! That is what it feels like to have a baby who died. Every moment of every day a part of me is drawn to Calvin. Some days that part of me is bigger and the grief is stronger; other days I am happy and living my life with an invisible string tying my heart to Heaven. No matter what there is always this sense that a piece of me is missing.
The nurse’s hands holding a mold of Calvin’s feet.
When your heart aches for someone, your body reaches out for something tangible. I never knew how many therapeutic baby loss items there were or how important they were. Companies create teddy bears the exact weight of the baby you lost for the moments your arms ache to hold them. Some parents decide to get reborn dolls in the likeness of their baby. The dolls are cared for in place of their child to help offset the pain of loss. For miscarriages, you can buy models of your baby at the gestational age they passed, so you can imagine what they looked like and hold them in your hands. Women send in their milk before it dries up to create jewelry, sometimes mixing it with their babies ashes or lock of hair. Others get tattoos to permanently keep a reminder on their body, even mixing their baby’s ash in with the ink. I remember after my miscarriage I struggled to take my hospital bracelet off. The twins hadn’t grown big enough to leave a physical mark on the world. There were no stretch marks to show I carried them, no ashes to take home or pictures to look at besides my ultrasound. My bracelet was my physical reminder that they existed and what was happening was real. I couldn’t take it off until I had a new bracelet to replace it. After Calvin, my body showed the tell tale signs of having a baby. Once Nolan was born, my stretch marks were no longer Calvin’s. My one tangible sign of him was intermingled with my baby on earth. Ever since, I’ve been pining for something new. Something new to carry with me always and be able to touch and think of him. I finally decided on a ring: small, easy to keep with me, and always within eyesight. I’ve searched and searched but never found one quite right. Finally, Jack had the idea to reach out to the jeweler who made my wedding set. Hopefully soon, I can have something of him in my hand every day.
Living with that piece of me in Heaven, has changed my entire view of death. My great aunt is nearing her journey to Heaven. I have been fortunate enough to go with family to visit her and take Nolan along with me. She is a kind soul who has always had a huge heart for children. In her life she has fostered over thirty children and mothered three children of her own. Seeing Nolan bring a smile to her face has warmed my heart, but it is deeper than that. I know that she will be seeing my other boys soon. I know while today she gets to visit Nolan, someday soon she will get to be with that missing piece of me. She will get to hold and foster my Calvin until I see him again someday. Every person we’ve lost I picture taking care of my boys for me. My dad’s parents are coloring Rugrat coloring books and making my sons a sandwich with Goober peanut butter and jelly like when I was a kid. My mom’s sister is dressing them up and making sure their hair is just right, teaching them just how ornery their Mommom was. Calvin is teaching the twins about the sound of my voice and just how crazy their sister is, because he had six more months in my belly than they did. Heaven has gone from the abstract picture of “paradise” to this vibrant colorful life that I yearn to be a part of. I noticed how the people who lived fuller lives had a certain sense of contentment at the thought of dying. They were at peace or even excited to go to Heaven. I understand it now. Right now I live a life with my children on earth and will someday reunite with my other children. When I die I will live a life with my sons in Heaven and will someday reunite with my children on earth. Heaven is a different feeling when you know their is love and life waiting on the other side. I am in no hurry to get to Heaven. I know I have a life worth living with my children, my husband, my family and friends. I have plenty of memories to make and people who need me still. So I will continue to enjoy the sunshine, splash in the rain, hug my loved ones close, try to help others, and live with a piece of my heart in Heaven.