Dear Sweet Valentine,

I remember the day we saw your heartbeat for the first and last time as a miraculous day I will never forget.  June 22, 2017.  Your daddy and I cried tears of joy watching your tiny heart beat.  What a special, intimate moment between you, your daddy, your mommy and our OB doctor and nurse.   There was a definite sense of awe in that room because 3 days before we had heard from our infertility specialist that you had no heartbeat and were finished growing. (Read that story here.)  But God wasn't finished writing your story yet.  We also found out that your due date was February 14, 2018.  Our Sweet Valentine miracle.

I remember the day we learned your heart had stopped beating.  Shock. Grief. Fear. Confusion. Denial.  Acceptance.  Your daddy and I felt more feelings that day than we knew we had!  That day was the start of a long journey of grief for both of us.  One that we were unprepared for and didn't even know how to anticipate.

Yet God was faithful as he always is, Sweet Valentine.  For the most part, many of our days blurred together.  But there are moments through all of our grief where we heard God speak clearly to us.  One was when your daddy reminded me that God's ways are higher than our ways.  And that only HE could see the finish line and the purpose in your story written as it was.

I remember the day God spoke clearly to my Mommy heart again.  About something I didn't even know was bothering me: your name.  During my Bible reading one morning, I listened to this verse from Isaiah 49:1,

"The Lord called me from the womb, from the body of my mother He named my name."

Instantly, the tears came as I realized that part of my grief was the sadness that I never would hold you in my arms.  That I would never know if you were my son or daughter.  That I would never see your face.  But also that you would leave me without even having a name.  But God knows your name, Sweet Valentine.  He knows whether you are Cooper's brother or sister.  Because His ways are higher.  Because even when I couldn't, He DID see you...

"You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion, as I was woven together in the dark of the womb.  You saw me before I was born.  Every day of my life was recorded in your book.  Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed." (Psalm 139:15-16)

I remember being in a full panic the night before my procedure because I didn't know what was going to happen to you.   I remember texting my best friend saying, "I just want to know where my baby will be.  I don't even know where my baby will be after tomorrow!"  And as if she were speaking a message straight from God, she answered back, "Your sweet baby is in the arms of Jesus right now."

Knowing there is a child you will never hold is a impossible truth for mommies and daddies to deal with.  But knowing Jesus is holding you safely until we join you in Heaven is the sweetest reassurance we can have.  God is faithful, Sweet Valentine.  He is always faithful.

I remember the day we realized that you saved Mommy's life.  While the details aren't important, I remember the sense of closure we had when we discovered exactly what happened and the one in a million reason as to why it happened.  You see, if it weren't for your life, Sweet Valentine, we wouldn't have known any of this.  And while I would never in a million years choose my life over yours, I'm glad God made that decision for us... because He knew that would've been an impossible decision to make.

I remember the day we decided to get something to remember you by.  I remember the joy I felt being able to shop for something for you, Sweet Valentine, and to find something that suited you just perfectly.  And we found it.  A white angel holding a heart.  Your heart.  Your heart that was beating so perfectly in Mommy's tummy one moment and beating in Heaven the next.  And I knew when I found it, that it was the perfect memory of your miracle and little life, Sweet Valentine.  Yes, I said miracle.  Because so many parts of your story were a miracle.  Regardless of the outcome, we will continue to declare the miracles we saw in your short life.
Love,
Mommy
Back to Top