I attended the White Butterfly Reflection Service this morning. It is a reflection service to acknowledge the loss of children during pregnancy or infancy. When I was first invited to the service, I was wondering why I would consider going. Hadn't I dealt with my miscarriage already? After all, it had now been 8 years since I lost my precious child. But as I read the invitation, I knew I had to go. A lump appeared in my throat. My heart was not fully healed from the loss of my child that I have never met.
My mother, sister and nieces and nephews came with too. They had lost a grand-daughter, niece and cousin respectively. It was special having so many members of my family there to acknowledge my daughter Lanay, whom none of us had met.
It was such a beautiful service. I felt my emotions overcome me looking around at how beautifully they had set up the service before it even began. During the service, there was an item of a woman dancing with 2 children dressed in white. I was fixated on the little girl. I could not take my eyes off her. In the moment I was swept away and it was my own daughter that was dancing before me. Free and whole and happy. Tears came and I could not stop them.
Then I looked over to the right of the stage area, and while the Pastor shared words of encouragement, an artist drew a picture. I watched as the picture took shape. It was a picture of a little girl. And I again felt sorrow that my daughter was not with me. I allowed the tears to flow. Grieving for the daughter that I would never see grow up with her brothers here on Earth. Grieving that I have not yet held my beautiful child that has gone to Eternity before me. My heart hurt. And the tears came.
Balloons and cards were given out. Messages on the cards to the children that we had lost were attached to the balloons, and released into the blue morning sky.
This is what I wrote:
Mummy misses you and loves you very much Lanay. xo
This is what Leader Boy Warrior wrote on his card:
I love you Lanay.
What surprised me the most was the emotions I felt at the service. I felt safe displaying them, as I was surrounded by people who knew what I was going through. Still, the depth of my emotions was a shock to me. Feelings that I didn't even know existed overcame me. I know not to suppress them, but allow the Holy Spirit to heal my heart by letting the emotions come. It is good to feel. It hurts to feel. But it is good to feel.