“Tyler, I miss her,” I whispered.

The non-existent clock in our room ticked three seconds too long before a sleep-talking Tyler muttered, “…yeah.”

I let out a sigh of both relief and pain; it was nice that Tyler was asleep, but I knew I’d be facing the rest of that dark night alone.

My mind often wanders at night. Last night it wandered to the Los Gatos cemetery.

The day I buried my baby was cold. I wore Tyler’s suit jacket over the only plain, non-maternity skirt that fit in my closet. (Because as much as burying your baby sucks, it sucks even more to still look and feel and wish you were pregnant while doing so.)

I remember so vividly when Tyler carried her tiny casket from the hearse and placed it on the grave site. So tiny, so light, so unfair was that box. When you can carry your dead baby in a box as small as that, you too will feel they were too young, too small to die. Inside that box was a body that was too small to hold any memories or life experiences at all.

Forgive me my dear Amelia, for longing to have you with me, for I do know that tiny body of yours is where it should be. Your bright spirit is alive and thriving. I hope you are guiding our family from way up high.

when i look back at pictures of that day, i often wonder what i was thinking at that very moment the shutter clicked.

i can see the tear that rolled down my cheek and collected on my chin. i can see the anguish and pain in my husband’s face because he too knew we would soon lose her.

i remember being heartbroken because it just wasn’t fair that we couldn’t keep her. and being angry because we didn’t even have a choice.

i was angry for a while about that. i was angry at god for silly things like, “why weren’t we a part of the decision if she lives or dies?” and “couldn’t you take away someone’s else’s child, someone who doesn’t want a baby anyway?”

we would have been delighted to have her in our lives. DELIGHTED.

but today i can look back and know for a fact i was wrong. i’m sorry, god, for being angry and upset. because i know we did have a choice, and before this life i accepted the responsibility and burden and JOY i’d feel to be her mother. i’m sorry i forgot about faith. i’m sorry i forgot about trials and how we need them to grow.

i’ve been reading up on our sunday school lesson for this week. it’s about the holy ghost and how we are entitled to receive revelation through the means of prayer and fasting and study. i’ve learned more about how the holy ghost is a member of the godhead, and how we – small, little, insignificant beings on this earth – are entitled to be taught through that member of the godhead. (just think for a moment about how cool that is!!)

d&c 11:13-14: verily, verily, i say unto you, i will impart unto you of my spirit, which shall enlighten your mind, which shall fill your soul with joy; and then shall ye know, or by this shall you know, all things whatsoever you desire of me, which are pertaining unto things of, in faith believing in me that you shall receive.

i really truly feel like i did have a choice. in the preexistence we now call heaven, amelia volunteered to come to earth for only a millisecond of a blink of an eye, and i volunteered to be here longer as her mother, to bear her and lose her. we both accepted the pain and suffering that went with it, but also knew there would be inexplicable joy and growth, too. obviously our knowledge is wiped clean when we come to this earth, but isn’t revelation wonderful? i know for a fact this was all part of a plan, and that i knew that plan before i came to earth and was prepared. i was so excited to get a body and just trusted in the lord that someday, all wrongs would be made right.

and as long as i keep believing that, and have faith, they will.

image by gail pomare, 2012