Today commemorated the 6th anniversary of the day Chris and I said goodbye to our son, Ryan Jacob, whom we lost when I was 4 months pregnant. For many people, four months does not seem significant, but personally knowing this loss would give one a much different perspective as it has given me. The day that Ryan was born, the day that I held him for the first and last time on earth, will never be forgotten. The experience of becoming a mother to a child I will never raise in this lifetime has changed me in ways that I cannot begin to fully comprehend. After six years, I can truly say that I am at peace concerning him, but as I write this, I am reminded of how much I love and miss him. Ryan will always be a part of our family, and we do love him and cherish the hope we have of being reunited with him again someday.
Last night, I pulled out the video of an ultrasound that was taken 2 weeks before we learned our baby had died. We haven't watched this video in years, and I wanted to see him and to know that Chris, too, has not forgotten. As we were watching our son, a sense of familiarity returned but I was surprised at how much bigger he was than I had remembered. Toward the end of the video, there was a comedy of errors when I realized that we were actually watching a video of Zachary's ultrasound. Oops. :) I quickly found the right video, kept in a special box with the only tangible things we have to remind us of our little angel, and made Chris watch it with me all over again. We were up late anyway, so as it turned out, we ended up watching the right baby at the right time: 1:10 a.m., the actual time of Ryan's birth on August, 12, 2002. Leaving the hospital that following day without our baby was the hardest thing I have ever had to do, but time has brought healing and his memory is sweet. I know that, one day, I will hold him again in Heaven.
Around this time each year, as I remember Ryan, I try to find some special way in which to honor him. It is important to me that I let his life, as brief as it was yet eternal, help me to become a better person. I have often felt that the loss of my son can enable me to feel greater compassion toward others, particularly those who experience difficult losses of their own. I will not share the details, but I am grateful to have recently had an opportunity to fulfill this desire of mine in a way that has, in turn, also brought greater peace and healing into my own life. Though I did not exactly plan for this to happen the way that it did, nor did I intend for it to be my gift to Ryan--or even myself--this year, this was something even more purposeful than anything I might have planned. It has reminded me that it is greater to love than to be loved.
"How very softly you tiptoed into our world. Almost silently. Only a moment you stayed. But what an imprint your tiny footprints have left upon our hearts!"
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3 comments:
I am so sorry Robin. I of course didn't know about this loss in your life. I don't think losing a child at 4 months is any less painful than at any age. What a special spirit he must be to have been spared the experience of life on earth. What a joyful experience you have to look forward to raising him at another easier time to raise a child.
What a sweet post, Robin. I know you had told me of your Ryan Jacob in the past, but I had forgotten. I'm glad that you have been able to hang onto the feeling and that he still has a positive affect on you six years later. A misscarriage is a painful experience to go through, especially when the baby was as developed as yours was. Happy birthday, baby Ryan.
ok you made me ball like a baby and I am so proud of you . You have such a stong spirit. I am so thankful that you have shared this thought process it is healing and to those that read this too can see what a wonderful amazing women that you are! Know that you are loved and we love you mourn also for your loss and cant wait to see you united with this sweet angl again.
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