Walk to Remember

This past Saturday family and friends joined me for an event called Walk to Remember hosted by a non-profit organization called M.E.N.D - Mommies Enduring Neonatal Death.  The event isn't so much a walk, as it is a program that allows families to come together and celebrate their child, or children, that went to be safe with the Lord in Heaven much sooner than any of us would want - through miscarriage, stillbirth, or a short life outside the womb.

Chase was the oldest child remembered at the Walk.  I think the next oldest, was 8 months, and even that is on the older end of the spectrum for the children usually remembered at this event.  The majority of the families were remembering children that did not survive even a week outside the womb.

It was an emotional day.

After we checked in, we headed to a room where tables had been set up for families to display items of the child they were remembering.  Barely able to see through my tears, I set up a few pictures of Chase,  the program from his Celebration Service, a onesie, a jacket, a book, and his Sophie the Giraffe rubber teething toy.  My mom and sister later added another book, picture, and a blue hooded towel.

It was so sad to set this up.  One part of me didn't want to be there.  I didn't want to be remembering my child, setting out objects that I wouldn't ever see him use again.  But the other part of me was so excited to be there.  Proud to be celebrating my son.  Excited for the chance to talk about him and answer questions about him.

I walked around to see all the memory tables.  I flipped through a picture book that a grieving mom put together on the one year anniversary of her daughter's birth - and death.  I looked at countless memory boxes filled with onesies, blankets, and hospital bracelets of babies that never left the hospital alive.  I saw quilts that had been sewn for miscarried babies.  I saw countless pictures of urns, small caskets and gravesite markers.

The sites were sobering.

The program continued in a large field outside the church.  Two women at the podium read from a list of names.  They took turns saying "We remember" followed by a child's name and their corresponding life dates.

There were a lot of names.

There were a lot of singular dates.  Which meant miscarriage, stillbirth, or that the baby took his last breath the same day he took his first.

Hearing this list is what made me realize that Chase was the oldest baby remembered on Saturday.  And in the midst of the sadness and tears, I was able to be thankful.

Thankful that I had a healthy labor and birth.
Thankful that I had heard his cry.
Thankful that I had felt his slobber run down my cheek.
Thankful that I had seen him crawl.
Thankful that I got to celebrate his first birthday with him.
Thankful that I have 375 days of memories.

I left the event thankful for Chase's life.  And I prayed that God would be gracious to all the other families, and show them how they too could be thankful in the midst of their grief.  

This week in my Bible study homework I read 1 Thessalonians 5:18.  It says "give thanks in all circumstances." (emphasis mine)  On Saturday, the Lord helped show me how that really is possible to do, even in the worst of times.