I have so many things to tell you, so many things on my mind and on my heart, that I decided to write you a letter. I realize this is wishful thinking but I am asking God to somehow give you this message. Maybe it is selfish of me because you wouldn’t be concerned with earthly things while you are in the presence of the Lord. But I need to tell you a few things.
After you passed away I had an emptiness, a longing to hold a baby, my baby. A need to care for someone, love someone, nurture someone. I wanted to be your mother. But you were gone. So I wanted to get pregnant as soon as possible to fill that emptiness. I knew I could never replace you but I wanted another child to mother. So when I discovered that I was pregnant I felt intense joy but also sadness and guilt. I felt sad for you. I was concerned that you would feel forgotten or that I want to replace you. I wanted to tell you that I love you and that I miss you. Even though you are in heaven I still wanted to protect you from getting hurt. You see, in my heart I am still your mother. I struggled to bond with the baby in my womb, it was still very unreal for me. Maybe if it felt real it would have been too scary. But slowly this little human, your brother, became more of a reality, especially when I felt him move. I thought that being pregnant again, the longing for you would be less and I would stop searching for you in the crowds of children. I was wrong. It still hurt when I saw boys the age you should have been. The nine months flew past and I somehow survived it. God was near. As time passed I felt the anxiety getting less and I enjoyed being pregnant. I felt blessed again. So then the day arrived when your brother would be born. It was a day of intense and deep emotion. I wanted to take a photo of you with me to hospital to somehow show you, you are not forgotten. Maybe it was more for me. I needed you to be part of the day. I wanted you to be there. Just before I was pushed into theatre the nurse told your dad he must bring a nappy along. Nappy… There is usually one word, one moment which opens the taps of tears. This moment took me back to when I was getting ready to go into hospital, after I learned your heart stopped beating. I didn’t know whether I should leave the nappies in the bag or whether I should take them out. You were never going to wear a nappy. Maybe it was a reality for the first time, that I was going to have a healthy living baby who is going to need a nappy. The tears contained a lot of emotion. Relief, joy, sadness, grief… 15 months of intense emotions. Your brother was born on 24 July at 14:45. I can not remember much of the moment. I just remember he was beautiful. I searched for you in his face. He has your chin and your eyes. He is a calm and grounded baby, just like how I sensed you would have been. But he is not you. He is your brother. I thought holding a new baby in my arms would lessen the longing I have for you. The opposite is true. Holding Uzziah made my heart long for you more than ever. I often cry for you when I have your brother in my arms. In a way he reminds me of the huge loss. He reminds me of what I have been robbed from. How precious a life is. The love I have as a mother, just tripled. I still have immense love for you that is bundled up inside of me and nowhere to go. This love is just for you and I cannot merely give it to anyone else. That is why this longing for you will never cease to exist. I recently realized that joy in the midst of sorrow is more pure. The joy is more intense and it is felt on a deeper level. I am enjoying your brother and I cherish every moment I have with him, even though I entered a new level of grief for you. The truth is I will never stop grieving your loss while I am on earth. The grief will change and I will grow but it will never end until I go to be with the Lord. I want you to know that I am happy again but I will never stop thinking of you, stop loving you or stop missing you. I will always wonder who you would have been or how our lives would have been. The fear of loosing another child is still there. I need God’s grace to renew my mind daily so I can get free from this fear. Maybe you can pray for me to overcome this fear, because it is robbing me from joy and peace I should have as a mother. God’s word says perfect love drives out fear. Maybe I still do not grasp the fullness of God’s love for me. As I grow to understand more of God’s love, maybe I can overcome my fear. I would give anything to hold you now and tell you how much I love you. I also want to tell you how good God has been for me. He has blessed me in ways I never expected. I still feel blessed to be your mother even though I can’t be in the physical sense. You will always be my baby boy and you have a special place in my heart. Grief in fact does only exist where love lived first. Your mother
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AuthorNanki Robbertse Archives
December 2017
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