Empty. No other word described how I felt. I’d lost the baby I’d carried for six months. Six months of planning for the daughter I’d named Angelica.
The loss of the baby had been too much for my already rocky marriage, and my husband and I separated. Now there was just Jordan and me. My son was my pride and joy, but he was only three. How could he give me the comfort I needed so desperately?
Jordan had looked forward to being a big brother, and I took him in my arms when I came home from the hospital.
“Angelica is with God and the angels in heaven,” I explained. There was such innocent acceptance in his face. It wasn’t that easy for me. I wanted to believe what I told him with all my heart. But my heart was broken. Angelica was gone.
Time was no balm for my grief. I tried to live in the present and not the past. Jordan and I liked our lazy mornings. We ate breakfast, played together and forgot the clock till I had to rush him out the door to preschool.
One day I busied myself in the room I’d decorated as a nursery. Turn it into a home office, I thought. Or a guest room. I had to find a way to move forward. I couldn’t go back. To Angelica.
I packed up Angelica’s baby things and opened the closet door. Tucked in a corner was a bag I’d forgotten about. Inside it was a teddy bear.
“Tell your son it’s a gift,” the hospital chaplain had said as she handed it to me. “From Angelica.” But I had never found the words to do it, or the right moment. What gifts could Angelica possibly give us? She was gone from us forever.
I reached into the bag and held the teddy bear to me. No. No. I wanted to hold my baby, not a stuffed animal.
I lost my resolve. The past swept back into my life. I had only one thought: Angelica is gone forever! I shoved the bear in the bag and fled from the room.
That evening I sat quietly on the couch after dinner. I couldn’t hide my tears. Jordan sat on the floor, staring at me. All I wanted was to see my daughter.
Desperate thoughts filled my mind. I wanted to join Angelica in heaven. I felt empty without her. I had carried her in my womb for so long. More than anything I needed to feel her close to me again.
Jordan got up from the floor and climbed into my lap. He leaned his back on my stomach, and nestled himself between my legs. He wrapped my arms around his chest, and I could feel his heart beat along with mine.
He and I stayed in this position—silent. I was overwhelmed with love for him. My child in heaven and my child here on earth: I felt torn between them.
Father, how can I ever be a mother to both of them?
The next morning I woke up early and knelt beside Jordan’s bed. When he opened his eyes he was bursting with energy.
“Mommy, I had a dream!” he said. “There were these floating things with wings.” His eyes were bright. “One was a teddy bear and it had wings and it was flying all around my room.”
Maybe this is the time. I went to the nursery closet and got the bag. “Look, Jordan. This is a gift,” I said. “From Angelica.” When I pulled out the teddy bear, Jordan gasped. “Mommy, Mommy! That’s the one!” he cried. “That’s the teddy bear that had wings in my dream!”
Jordan hugged the bear to his chest. Then he snuggled into my lap. I imagined Angelica being cuddled by heaven’s angels. She was not gone from my life. How could she be? After all, I was her mother and always would be.
Jordan held the teddy bear gently in his arms. “I know you live in heaven, Angelica,” he whispered, “but you live here too.” She lived in our hearts, where the love of heaven and earth resides.
This article originally appeared in the Nov/Dec issue of Angels on Earth magazine.
