If you’ve lost a child through miscarriage, death at any age, or failed adoptions you have a couple dates on the calendar that are hard; the day you lost your child and his or her birthday. The birthday of the child who you thought would be sitting at the kitchen table blowing out the candles on his cake, smile from ear to ear, with friends surrounded on all sides. Instead of candles there is heartache, instead of cake there are tears. You can’t help but think of what life would have been like, the life you would have had with this precious child. It’s not that you haven’t sought healing for past grief, its not that life hasn’t moved on, often it has, its just those couple days a year that remind you of your loss and what life would have been like.

For those of you who know this feeling, I cried alongside you yesterday. Yesterday was  Lucius’ 4th birthday. The sweet soul we were not able to fully adopt after 9 weeks together was heartbreaking. Just a week before his court date, plans changed. We put him back in the orphanage never to hold him again. He was just over a year old.

With a nursery at home ready for his arrival, clothes tucked in his drawers and his initials spelled across the wall, I could never have imagined we would experience the gruesome loss of his presence in our everyday lives. The baby I longed for, the baby I was eager to mother for the rest of my life would never be mine.

Yesterday, after I cried my tears, letting them fall off the tip of my chin as I sat alone in my car, I asked that Christ be near, surrounding my sweet Lucius on all sides. I don’t know where he is or anything about his life now, but I know I gave him every ounce of love I had to give. He would never remember me now but his heart was loved. I pray the the Holy Spirit would direct his steps, leading him into the love and grace only Jesus gives.

That’s what I have, desperate prayers. Nothing else.

My only hope has been and will be Jesus. I’m thankful for a Soul Keeper who knows my loss, my bitter moments. He promises to redeem them and hold me near.

This has been on repeat in my mind:

To the mothers who’ve lost, I’m praying the love and healing touch of Jesus is found tucked in your grief and mine. May his hand cover our scars, whether they are 20 years or 2 days old. May he be near in our loss, every moment that numbs us, the ones that make us long for the child we miss so dearly.