Daniel’s Due Date

Daddy’s been out of town again, for most of the past week. This time I was in San Francisco, for the annual FileMaker Developer Conference—the same conference I was at four years ago, when iChat allowed Mommy and me to really get to know Auntie Kellie. Because of this, this post is being published a bit late, but hopefully it still retains its poignance.

8 August 2009 was Daniel’s due date. Yes, we know that the doctor wouldn’t have let his mother go past 38 weeks, so he probably would have been born in late July. There’s a certain finality to the actual due date, though—an acknowledgement that, had all gone well, our younger son would be with us by now.

I know we can’t dwell too much on his death or we’ll miss out on the joy that we do have, with the children that are with us—and I don’t think we do dwell on it, unnecessarily. The kids know that they have a little brother that’s back in the spirit world and that he’ll be back someday, though they don’t know exactly what that means. Heck, Anna and I don’t even know exactly what that means. Did he stake his immortal claim on that body, before he passed? Our prayers seem to indicate that he didn’t, but that answer hasn’t been particularly resounding. There’s a difference between believing and knowing, and this one currently resides on the side of belief. The best we can do is to keep on hoping, keep on praying, and keep on loving our children—all three of them—and let the Lord work out the rest.

Early that afternoon—the afternoon of 8 August—we headed over to Daniel’s Mawmaw and Pawpaw’s house, to visit his grave. Leah and David, of course, didn’t know exactly why we were going there; they don’t even know that his body is there (nor probably even that it’s buried anywhere; I doubt they would even have made that connection, at Great-Grandma’s funeral). But just as I do, each time we visit, I stood by his graveside and talked to him—and cried. While our living children visited with their grandparents and played in the sandbox, I took a few minutes to once again express my love for my little lost baby boy, and to express to him and to Heavenly Father just how much I want him back, and quickly. (I kind of doubt Daniel can hear me, but hopefully Father passes on the message?)

After a while, Anna brought Leah and David over with some little watering cans, to water “Daniel’s flowers.” They don’t know what that means, either, and hopefully he’ll be back soon enough that they never have to. They enjoyed themselves, though, and if they understood anything, I expect they felt it was something they could do for their little brother that’s not with us, right now. As we left, I again bid adieu to my beautiful little boy, and headed back to the car, back to our lives that are now so obviously without him.

Sorry for the downer, but I trust you’ll understand. And if you’ve got any prayers to offer, please pray that we’ll have our baby by Christmas. We don’t know if Daniel will be our next baby or if he’s had to go to the back of the line, so to speak—nor even if we’ll have him in this life, at all—but there’s an emptiness that we so desperately want filled, and through the miracle of adoption, we know it can still happen by then.

Thanks for reading. Now let’s get back to the happiness and joy of our living children. :-)