digital scrapbook art journaling page after a miscarriage {}

remembering the baby we never held

digital scrapbook page after a miscarriage

{I created this scrapbooking layout the day after we found out the baby was in Heaven. I still found writing too difficult, but scrapping helped start healing the pain. Even though I wasn’t able to process in words for a few days, Michael needed to write his thoughts and feelings right away.}


It’s taken me a while to write this, as I’ve felt like putting it down in words makes it all final. Yet, at the same time, I have a need to write about it. I don’t feel compelled to write to the baby, but to share about him, as I believe that every baby, whether here or in heaven, is a beautiful gift. Every life, no matter how brief, deserves to be celebrated. That’s why I want to share about our tiniest treasure, the baby we never met. Because he was. And everyone, no matter how small, deserves to be remembered.

In the dark, early hours of March 9, Michael took me to the ER, where we found out that the little one we’ve affectionately been referring to as Baby Mungo (a Scottish name meaning lovable), was with Jesus.

Somehow, we both already knew. But it still hurt. We cried for days. The pain is easing slowly, and I know in time everything will seem normal again. But right now there’s a gaping hole in our hearts for the baby we never held. The baby we never saw. The baby whose heartbeat we never heard.

From the moment we knew about him, Michael and I have both had an overwhelming sense that this little one was a boy.  We had chosen a name, but it didn’t seem quite right. When we found out he had gone Home, we knew that name wasn’t meant for him. Eight days later we found the right name. Ian . . . God’s gracious gift. Exactly what he was. A gift for us, even if only for a moment.

Ian, our gift from God, was. But because of the hope we have in Christ, we know that he also is. He is with God. And although we carry a terrible grief for our loss, wanting so desperately to have held him and watched him grow up, that knowledge gives us hope and peace, and I am overcome with joy for our sweet baby, knowing that Ian is with God.


One thought on “remembering the baby we never held

  1. Rachel R. says:

    Watermark has a song that, near the beginning, says, “…and ‘though at times it’s just enough to cast a shadow on the wall, still I am grateful that You shine Your Light on me at all.” I never really understood that line until we lost a little one we’d never held.

    I’m so sorry. We miss him, too. :(

Comments are closed.