December 6 – This past week we had our Christmas support group meeting where a large group of parents gathered who had lost infants, ranging from 29 years ago to just 6 weeks ago.

This meeting was a little different than the usual structure, because we went around and lit candles and shared our favorite memory of our babies. For some it was seeing their child on the ultrasound for the first time, others it was having their child respond to their voice or touch.

For me, it was the moment I met Liliana. I remember distinctly hearing my husband say ‘Here’s the baby’ and turning my head to see her for the first time. It was instant tears of joy as I kissed her and told her I loved her. In those first minutes, I forgot about the pain, her sickness, our sadness and every other emotion other than love. It was just a mother meeting her daughter for the first time and giving her love.

That love translated into me telling Liliana that it was okay to go be with Jesus. It’s not what I wanted, but something compelled me to tell her in those moments that it was okay. As I’m writing this, it brings me right back to her birth in an instant with all of the emotions to go with it.

I remember doing skin-to-skin with her tiny little body. The nurse told me afterwards that when we did this, Liliana responded and was soothed by it. I didn’t see it, but of course I loved hearing it. I will treasure our brief moments together forever.

Every parent’s memories were touching and it was a beautiful sharing of our babies in a safe place with no discomfort or fear of judgment. And as I’ve said before, any opportunity to talk about Liliana and share her with others is a gift. That was Monday.

Then on Tuesday, I was blessed to be able to share Liliana again with a different group – my Alpha class. I think I’ve mentioned previously that my husband and I are taking this Christian faith course through our church. Well, last night was the last class, and we were able to invite guests who may be interested in attending the next course. After dinner, current Alpha attendees were able to get up and give their testimony on their experience and share what the class has meant to them. It was my honor to give one of those testimonies.

While I’m no stranger to public speaking, it’s an entirely different ball game when you have to speak about yourself, much less the most intimate and vulnerable time of your life.

But thankfully, this was also a safe place. It was a place where Christ was present and fellowship in His name lifts the soul. So, I went up to the podium and I shared Liliana with the people in the room. Some knew our story, but most didn’t. It’s always hard to initially share what happened for the first time with strangers, so I won’t pretend that I didn’t cry. But after gaining my composure, I was able to share what a blessing the Alpha class was for me at the exact right time in my life. It provided the peace that I was searching for to make sense of this past year. It allowed me to understand Liliana’s purpose in life and my own vocational road. It allowed me to explore my faith and to think about what I really believe versus what I just paid lip service to.

And over the course of the testimonies, something amazing happened. With all of the problems people have in their lives, you suddenly realized that you weren’t alone. Testimony after testimony, people got up and shared the crosses that they carry in this life – and not one was easy. I learned of three other parents who had lost teenage or adult children in this group. Others were dealing with the pain of addictions or abuse in their families. And still others, significant health problems. It was clear – we are all broken. And whether you’ve already experienced pain in this life or have yet to do so, we need Jesus to get through it. I certainly did.

I’m thankful for both of these outlets to be able to safely share Liliana and feel the support of others who either share my same pain or share my same solution. I am forming relationships with these people that will hopefully stay with me in the years to come. But whether they are meant to be lifelong friends or just with me for a chapter in my life, they are part of my story, of Liliana’s story.

Sometimes people in our lives are more important to us than we are to them. And there’s no sadness in that. I know my husband is a significant part of every one of his patients’ lives because they are facing significant health issues and he is part of their stories. The people I’ve encountered this year are all part of my story, with their kind words, empathic eyes, attentive ears and warm hugs, each imprinted on my heart. While they may not remember me 20 years from now, I will remember them and they too will become part of my favorite memories from this year.

The memories I have of Liliana, and all of the wonderful people I have met along this journey, will carry me through this lifetime until I can be with her again. And when we are reunited, she can tell me her favorite memories from her birth and fill me in on every moment thereafter in heaven. Or maybe we’ll just focus on the eternity of memories we’ll have to make together. That’s a memory worth waiting for.