Loss and Acceptance

Nineteen years ago today we found out we had just lost a child. I was six and a half months pregnant with twins and only twenty-four years old, excited and terrified at the idea of mothering two infants at once ~ especially since we already had a toddler. But, we felt a certain sense of distinction expecting two baby boys. And one baby is such a sweet blessing, two we knew would be twice the blessing.

But God chose to take Matthew Francis to Himself. We don't know why, but we accept that He knew it was better that way.

Matthew's twin, Kevin Christopher, was born a month later, six weeks premature, but perfect. We weren't able to bring him home for three weeks until he learned to suckle by himself and could maintain his body temperature. Four of our ten surviving children started life in the NICU, and we have learned only too well how grueling it can be to reach such seemingly simple goals. Progress is painstakingly slow, setbacks add mountains to the terrain, and the separation of the family is a terrible heartache. You know how they talk about mothers' arms aching when they lose or can't be with their babies? Mine did ache, for both my boys. But, it was wonderful when we got to bring tiny little Kevin home. Many parents come home empty handed. We were blessed that Kevvy made it.

It's always been a bit of a mystery to us where Matthew actually is right now, though. You see, the day we found out we'd lost one of the babies, the ultrasound technician told us that "Twin A" had been gone about two days. Two days before had been a Sunday. I had stayed after Mass that day and was having a chat with the Blessed Mother and, even though we had had no problems or warning signs of trouble with the babies, I felt compelled to ask her, if she could, to baptize the babies right then and there ~ in my womb. And it was that day that Matthew died.

We have always wondered if Our Lady got the OK to baptize him and take him to Heaven right away, sparing us a more difficult burden later. Or maybe he's in Limbo, which is not a bad alternative. We believe that, even though Limbo is devoid of the absence of God, the saints and angels, and especially Our Heavenly Mother must visit there often. Wherever Matthew is, we know he's happy. We're sorry we didn't get to meet him, but we look forward to seeing him someday.

We accept with happiness the children God gives us; we accept with happiness God's will to take them away.

From St. Bernadette's Journal:

For Jesus, homeland, fortune, happiness, work, food, life and its purpose all was the will of his Father; may it also be mine.