Week 36: Berry smoothie moustache Week 37: He looks pretty proud about something. Week 38: We didn't get much paint on to the paper. Week 39: A favourite kitchen 'toy' & Week 40: Sharing iceblocks on the back veranda. Week 41: Hiding. Week 42: Climbing... & Week 43: Cleaning (?) up the bowl Week 44: These two look besotted with each other. Week 45: Meant to be sleeping... Week 46: Kid with attitude. Week 47: He has discovered power points. Week 48: Carrying around his wallet full of old I.D. cards which I have been saving for years for this exact purpose!
*This post is part of the 52 project: a portrait of Ignatius, once a week, every week (posted monthly... or tri-monthly), in 2013.*
Thursday, December 5, 2013
I have been holding off posting my weekly portraits of Ignatius, because it didn't seem right to me to post pictures of him in September (and now October and November too!), without posting something about his little brother/sister.* In September we celebrated Ignatius' first birthday and had him dedicated at church along with lots of his little friends. A few days later we learned that we had lost our second child who was still in my womb. I am thankful we were able to celebrate life first, and not have Iggy's celebration crowded by the impending sadness. I'm also grateful that we had time to process and grieve for the little one who will never grow up with us, not in this life at least. We chose a name we both love. Joshua dug in to the hard, clay soil. We buried the fragile body under the tree of life, used our hands to cover it with compost and soil and read a prayer. I made a cross from sticks and vines and it warms my heart to visit and find a fresh flower which Joshua has placed on his morning walk.
I have sailed through life with so few scratches that this shook me. It opened me up, in an exposing but hopeful way. It was a nudge to move me to living more presently; to being thankful, grateful, prayerful. To be more aware of the hidden grief others carry. Having faith in a loving, Creator, Father God, bigger and beyond our pain and circumstance has certainly been a significant part of our healing. As has a gracious and kind community.
*(In this instance in particular, I have had so many reservations about what to say in this space. I am ever conscious of both the richness and the strangeness of this virtual community and not wanting to overshare. My hope in writing is simply to be real about life in all of it's seasons.)