I think a lot of miscarriages happen with little said or done.
Many women miscarry before they’ve had the chance to tell family and friends that they’re pregnant. And so, after the loss of their little ones, they soldier on. The baby is remembered mainly in the heart of a grieving mother.
For me, it’s helpful to have physical reminders of the little one who’s no longer with us. It helps me to keep from feeling like I’m grieving for something small and insignificant.
A visible physical reminder says, “Yes, there was a baby in you. Yes, you did carry him or her. Yes, you had a lifetime of love for that little one. Yes, the baby was taken away in a physically painful and heart-wrenching way. It was all real. It happened.”
And I want to remember that baby. I want to remember the happy months of that pregnancy.
So, I have two ways of doing that. I didn’t come up with either way.
The first is something my friend told me she does. She keeps a memory box of everything relating to the babies no longer with her. I keep my things in a file. Sympathy cards that people have given me, special emails printed out, congratulations from when we announced we were expecting. Anything tangible that relates to the baby goes in my file.
The second is a tree that my parents bought for us and my dad came and planted in our yard. It’s a white blossoming crabapple. (And yes, I will dig it up and take it with us if we ever move). It was a very thoughtful gesture by my dad and it means a lot to me.

The kids helped plant it and after they were done Tom read most of Psalm 139 for us and prayed. It’s been helpful for the kids in understanding what happened. They know the baby in my tummy died, and our baby tree helps them remember it in a sweet and sad way; remembering and honoring.


And I’m hoping that as the tree grows and blooms it will be a sweeter remembrance to me than it is now. A reminder of a gift that was given only for a short time, but of eternal value.





In their pj’s, watching the duck family swim around the pond one morning (I use the term “morning” loosely).
Seth and Elianna doing the afternoon snack thing.
Elianna’s attempt at giving her brother a smooch..
Dodds’ kiddie couch snuggle.
Snuggle’s done, time for some goofy fun.
Sisters with shut-eyes and smiles.
And a second attempt to smooch Seth, this time successful, by Eliza.
