The Sweetest Mother's Day Gift!

As candles flicker across the world,
United in love tonight,
I think of you, my little one,
My baby: my heart, my light.

And tiny souls gone too soon,
Watch as their flames dart,
They nestle in, closer to us,
And whisper to our heart . . .

I know you miss me,
I know you hurt,
I know you’ve struggled to breathe,
But I have words to comfort you,
So feel me close, believe . . .

That I dance with you in the kitchen,
I soar when you say my name,
I hold your hand at bedtime,
Splash puddles with you in the rain.

I am the springtime bird that visits,
The gentle summer breeze,
The first winter star you see at night,
The autumnal rustle of trees.

And as you walk your path of life,
I share the journey with you,
You carry me one step at a time,
I only wish you knew . . .

That I am so proud of you and how you’ve learned,
To smile and live and laugh,
The way you stumbled through rocky climbs,
To a calmer, brighter path.

So I watch you as my candle burns,
And I whisper in your ear,
I love you, I see you, I hold you,
Close your eyes, Mommy,
I am here.

So God Made a Grandmother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A GRANDMA

Order Now!

Victoria Hulmes

I’m a working mum of four, navigating life after the loss of our little boy Jack. I have a passion for writing, which is usually a jumble of my grief, joy, and everything in between. Happily married . . . most of the time. Animal lover, chocolate eater, friend and family adore.

A Letter to My Mama, From Your Baby in Heaven

In: Child Loss, Faith, Grief, Miscarriage
A Letter to My Mama, From Your Baby in Heaven www.herviewfromhome.com

Dear Mama, I know you miss me and wish you could watch me grow up. But instead, you sit in that rocking chair, tears streaming down your face, arms wrapped around the blanket that was supposed to be mine. I see you crying, Mama, wishing you could hold me. Wishing you could look into my eyes. Wishing you could hear me cry or call you “Mama”. I want you to know Jesus rocks me to sleep every night and while He does it, He tells me all about you. I know tulips are your favorite flower and that every spring...

Keep Reading

All I Have of You is This Hospital Bracelet

In: Grief, Loss

Dear Baby Julian, It’s been five years since we found out you were coming and lost you. All within one week. One week. That’s all I got. Well, that and this hospital bracelet. For your brother and sister, I have hospital bracelets, too. But I have one that matches mine for each of them. The bracelets are downstairs in a memory box surrounded by other mementos. Mementos I don’t have of you. Like ultrasound pictures . . . I don’t have any ultrasound pictures to remember you by. They did an ultrasound but it was too early to see you....

Keep Reading

Before You Were Gone, You Were Mine

In: Grief, Loss, Motherhood
Ultrasound photo

Before you were gone, you were here. Before you left my womb incomplete, you were whole. Before you met our Father up in Heaven, you were ours. Before your body left mine, you nuzzled your way into my heart, leaving an empty piece that only meeting you in Heaven will ever fill.  Before God called you back home, you were imagined, through and through. Every single part of you. Hair. Eye color. Tiny toes. Dangling fingers. RELATED: A Mother’s Love Can’t Be Measured In Weeks The way you would yawn. How you would burrow your head under mine. Hearts beating...

Keep Reading