Little Toes… Part II

In our family, we never forgot about that dream I had when I was 3.  In fact, it had turned into kind of a joke.  It seemed so senseless and hilarious for a three year old to have such a dream, that we wrote it off as something funny, even though for a good two years after the dream I was terrified to go into the bathroom, and wouldn’t dare look into the toilet.

One day, my mother and I were having one of those meaningful conversations where we were sharing various insights.  I was 15 years old, and my mom began to share with me about a miscarriage she had when I was three and a half.  I had learned of the miscarriage only a year or so before when my mom decided to name the baby at an official prayer service for unborn children, so it wasn’t a surprise, but I had not put too much thought into it.

All of a sudden, we made a connection between my dream and the miscarried baby.  The dream happened at about the same time as the miscarriage, and since I was a sheltered little girl (meaning I wasn’t exposed to things like images of people’s heads in toilets) and because the dream haunted me throughout my whole life, we realized that there was an undeniable connection… My mom had her miscarriage in the bathroom, naturally, and washed her hands in the sink like most people would after having, well, flushed the toilet.  We both started sobbing with the realization that I had perhaps in my innocence seen this baby, who was really an unrecognized member of our family… that I really had a brother who had passed away… that this miscarriage wasn’t just a ‘botched cycle or pregnancy.’

He was real.  He IS real.  And his name is Mark William.

It was then that something awakened in my heart…

…to be continued…


One thought on “Little Toes… Part II

  1. Even the littlest ones understand the reality grown ups like to explain away.
    “There is baby in mommy’s tummy.” My youngest was just newly four when we miscarried our last one… my second lost in the first trimester. I saw her, my little Michaela, the tiny kernal that was her cradled in what was left of my placenta at 7 weeks… I was at work. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of her, a spark, a flash of life here and gone before I really knew she was here. My children, My other four at the time each drew a picture, trying to explain the pain they knew was very real… Each one, even my youngest, drew a tiny baby with a bow in her hair inside Mommy’s tummy, Mommy with tears streaming down her face. They knew even before I could explain what misscarriage means. It is foolishness to believe that the life inside a mother’s womb can be anything but a baby, a person.

    Healing can take a life time. God has created something beautiful in your dream and in your relationship with Mark William. Blessings Blessings for you and your family.

    Hiland Rose


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