Holding my babies in my heart, even though neither is yet in my arms

This Mother’s Day has been a time for reflecting and thinking about my two darling children – Rainbow, who I carry in my womb, and his or her older brother Lentil, who is held in the arms of God.

It’s given me the opportunity to consider afresh the gift of each of our beautiful babies and everything each has brought to our lives and continues to bring.

I’ve spent time focusing on them in God’s glorious creation, and have laid flowers in their honour. And while I might not yet have held either of them in my arms, I thank God that He has given each to me and enabled me to call myself their mum.

As Mother’s Day draws to a close, it seemed timely to share this letter to Lentil, which features in the book that is his legacy, and sums up the love we had then, and still have today, for our first child.

My dearest darling Lentil,

I hardly know where to begin. Just a few days ago we were eagerly awaiting our dating scan  on December 1 so we could see you for the very first time and begin in earnest the preparations for your arrival. Then on Friday we found ourselves looking at your lifeless form on the scanner screen as we received the worst news imaginable that God had called you home to Him before we’d even had the chance to see or feel you move, let alone hold you in our arms.

We’d talked about giving you that all-important skin-to-skin contact in your first hours to help us bond. We never dreamed we’d be left with only a tiny, grainy picture to remember our precious baby by. And yet we will always treasure that picture. That which to anyone else might just show an indistinguishable blur is identifiable to us as our beautiful, precious,  much-loved baby, 50% Mummy, 50% Daddy but 100% gifted to us by God.

We always knew God would only ever loan a child to us to care for on His behalf but how we longed to have you a season longer.  We longed to watch you grow and to be the ones to introduce you to the love of God,  encouraging you to explore His Word and press in to experience that love for yourself and come to the point of salvation from sin.

Now we see it was God’s plan to call you straight home to Him by grace without you even needing to set foot on this fallen planet.

Darling child, we wanted Earth to have a Lentil but He knew it was Heaven, not Earth, that needed you.

There are so many things we may never know – whether have been a boy or a girl (I always thought boy but Daddy would say girl), what colour your eyes and hair would have been, how many sleepless nights you’d have caused us over the years – but amid all the lack of knowing we know one thing for certain,  that our loss is Heaven’s gain,  and your gain because there is no better place to be.

God’s perfect plan was that you would never have a true home in our house but you will always, without a shadow of a doubt, have a place in our hearts. God may grant us more children,  we just don’t know, but you, Lentil, will always be our baby number one, not simply pregnancy number one.

In the short time you were with us you made me feel so alive, so happy,  so excited for the future and I will be eternally grateful, both to God and to you, for that. I don’t know how long it will be before I can feel that way again but I count it a great comfort in these difficult days to know that you are safe in the arms of the loving Father who will never leave you or forsake you. You are in the place I always hoped you would end up in, you just got there by a quicker, easier route than I ever imagined. 

I’m sorry, my darling child, that we never got as far as choosing you a real name – Lentil was only meant to be a pet name until we could look into your eyes and settle on what to call you – but now you will be known by the precious name God had chosen for you before he even placed you in my womb. That womb feels so empty now but I know Heaven must feel even more alive.

Whatever your Heavenly name, you will always be our little Lentil and I promise you I will carry your memory in my heart always.

I like to think you might be watching over us and seeing how much you are loved by us but even if you don’t know our love, I know that you know the love of He who loves you so much more and so much better than we ever could.

We will never understand in this life why you were taken from us but I feel honoured and privileged to be able to call myself your mum in this life and I know it will all become clear when I reach the next.

Until we meet again, precious one…

All my love, Mummy

Sarah Moore is the author of For the Love of Lentil, A journey of longing, loss and abundant grace, which tells the story of her experience of pregnancy and miscarriage. Copies of the book, along with baby loss awareness badges which are sold in aid of Baby Lifeline, are available via the For the Love of Lentil link at the top of this page.

Leave a Comment