TJs first gift

I was able to use the funds that Jennifer Jones gave me last year for the first time this week. I was told about a family who was facing the eve of their babies birth, and what would also be its death. The news of this sucked my breath away, and I choked back my tears. I was taken back to TJ's birth, and the searing pain I felt as I kissed him for the last time here on earth, and placed him in his much too small coffin. I remembered shopping after his death, and trying not to fall apart as I watched other mom's holding babies, and wishing that I was holding my TJ. Every anniversary of his birth and death I think about what he would be like, and what his favorite things would be now. I imagine now that he would be telling me about his favorite superhero, and all of the things he would be learning in school. I thought about this woman and her husband, and the pain they were about to endure, and remembered lying in my bed for hours on end crying out the unfathomable pain of burying my new baby. The emptiness that filled the space where my TJ should be suckling at my breast, and cooing, then smiling, was too much, and I longed to be with him. It seemed impossible that that type of pain could be survived, and yet it was, and has been since the beginning of time. I miss him so much, and look forward to seeing him again. The following day as preparations for attending the funeral were made, I went into town and stood staring at the figurines in the store, deliberating about which one to buy. It was painful, and the tears began to flow freely, as I reminisced on the figurine that Jennifer and Blake Jones gave Tony and I at TJs funeral. I wanted to pick the perfect one, and tears of frustration came as I could no longer find the figurine that I had previously purchased, of a mother and father embracing, and holding their still little baby in their arms, looking down on it lovingly. I had five that I wanted to buy, because each one held a piece of the understanding I wanted to show this couple. The store clerk came up, and was clearly frustrated at my indecisiveness. I looked at her, and thought how lucky she was to not have the ability to understand this kind of pain. I finally made my selection, although imperfect, and delivered it. I will never meet this couple, but I hope that when they look at the figurine of the woman holding the infant, and looking down at it with love, that she will always know that someone out there understood her pain, and that for a moment the world stopped turning on its axis for me too. I rarely go deep enough into my thoughts to allow the pain to surface anymore. I am caught up in toddlers, and diapers, and raising TJs siblings. I have had moments when I knew he was near, and cherish those times. I look forward to seeing TJ again, and holding him in my arms, so that the vacuum, the emptiness created when I placed him in his coffin can be filled. I am grateful to Jennifer and Blake Jones for being a healing balm for my family. I am grateful to all who donate to Wrapped in Love. It was difficult to allow myself to revisit my pain, but knowing that I maybe made a small impact in lessening another's pain made reliving my own memories worth it. I have a lot of very sweet, sacred, memories from that time as well. My life was changed in an incredible way because of TJ, and I am so grateful that I was able to have him in my arms for even a small moment. I know it is easier when we see another's difficulties to think "what can I possibly do to help". Trust me, the kindness that you show others when they are suffering is remembered by them. It is like a warm ray of sunshine on a very dark, sunless day. Do not allow your own insecurities and fear keep you from reaching out to others, you may be the angel they have been praying for.