Sept. 19, 2018 – The craziness of the start of the school year is in full effect and it’s taking me awhile to get into a rhythm. Every week that goes by that I don’t get to post on my blog, I feel a twinge of guilt. Not that I have scores of followers or that Liliana will feel slighted, but I like staying connected to her through my writing. I still think of her daily, talk and pray to her regularly and visit her weekly at our special place, but writing allows me to dial in to my girl in a way that is special and unique for us.

So, where shall I start? So much has happened in the past month or so that has warmed my heart as well as brought a few tears. For starters, we celebrated my older two daughters’ birthdays last month at our house with family and friends. There was plenty to keep them busy between the bounce houses, cake, presents and games, but in the midst of all of the excitement, my girls asked if they could send a balloon up to Liliana in heaven. Heart melted! Yes, these sweet little girls put a pause on celebrations to include their baby sister. It’s moments like that where I think we must be doing something right in raising our daughters in faith to know their sister.

As easily as a memory or sweet gesture for Liliana can bring a smile to my face, so to can a careless comment or unrelated event bring a tear to my eye. I know people don’t mean any harm when they say things that sting. They just don’t have the perspective of having lost a baby. I think of all the times I’ve said things to others who have maybe lost a parent or were going through some other difficulty and I hit a nerve with my comments. Our life experiences shape our perspective and sensitize us to certain things. If you’re one of the lucky ones who have not encountered loss or hurt in your life, then I hope empathy is your friend when you cross paths with those who have.

To give a trivial but relevant example, the soap opera that I occasionally watch has a current story line where a couple had a stillborn baby. Just days after losing their baby, the father runs into another couple who just adopted a newborn baby. The grieving father congratulates the adoptive couple and they extend their condolences. And in the very next breath, the adoptive father starts gushing over his new son and how in love he is with him. Empathy out the window! I can’t tell you how many times I hear from parents in my support group of something similar happening. Most of these couples are young and are surrounded by friends having babies. While under normal circumstances, we’d all be thrilled to share in your good news of pregnancy or new baby, it is beyond painful to participate in joyful celebrations when your grief over the baby you lost is all-consuming. You would think most people would get that, but every month I hear the same story of insensitive family and friends and careless comments.

That’s why we give ourselves permission to take a pass on the shower invite or first birthday party when our child would’ve been the same age. Or even a non-baby related event or party where being too social feels awkward and wrong. Some people feel slighted or get offended when a grieving couple doesn’t fully embrace their good news or when they pass on an invite. Again, perspective. If you are fortunate enough to never have lost a child, please understand that it’s not personal, it’s just painful. We are learning to navigate in a world where our children are not physically present and the reality of that, coupled with seeing other babies, sometimes is too much.

Thankfully, the comments for me have been few and far in-between. Most days, I am grateful for the small things that remind me that Liliana is always near. Like when I visit special place on a beautiful day where there is no wind to be felt until I walk up to Liliana’s monument and suddenly her windmill starts to blow quickly. Smile. Or hearing my 3-year old mention how much she loves Liliana during our family prayers at night. Smile. Still, there are other things that happen that will just hit a sad chord in my heart instead. Like looking at my oldest daughter’s class list and seeing a ‘Lilian’ and a ‘Lily’ in her class. Tear.  I know it’s a popular name, but my chest tightens when I hear her name attached to another little girl.

But strangely, I had a recent encounter with her name that had an uplifting affect on me. I help coordinate a pro-life student group at my daughter’s school and church to help teach students about the sanctity of life. I spoke at the school a few weeks ago inviting the students to join the group. At the end, we passed out hearts to all of the students and asked that they write down the name of a baby they would like to spiritually adopt. This just means that they will pray for a baby who is abortion-vulnerable for the next nine months. I collected probably hundreds of hearts and later went through each one to see the names that were chosen. Guess which name was written down the most? ….Liliana/Lily. This still brought tears, but the good kind where I felt like Liliana’s spirit was touching these children and inspiring their prayers.

And speaking of this pro life group… it was at this time last year that I first joined the group at my church and got involved in volunteering at the pregnancy center. I had discerned that I was being called toward this ministry but had no idea where to start or what to do. Fast forward a year and I am very involved in my church group and have made some wonderful friends as well as at the pregnancy center where I am counseling young women in need. I’ve said it before that I never would’ve placed myself here doing what I’m doing, but I go through all doors that come from God and lead to Liliana and vice versa.

So those are some highlights from the last month. Next month is ‘Infant Loss Awareness’ month where I will be honoring Liliana and all of the babies taken too soon through various rememberance ceremonies.  I love that so many aspects of my life still are tied to my baby girl.  I know over time the events may change, even the opportunities may dwindle, but she is woven into every fabric of my life and every ounce of my being, and whether these things bring tears of joy or pain, she is a part of me. And as sure as the wind makes the windmill blow, she always will be. Smile.