All Four One


November 2015

I Know You

I wrote  this piston another blog a few months ago, but I’ve switched it over to here. 

There is a scene in an episode of Friends where Rachel has just given birth to her daughter. They hand her the baby and she looks her baby in the face and says, “I know you”.
Maybe it’s a mom thing. Maybe God is just letting me see them. Over the past week my children have felt so close to me. I have seen their faces, I have seen their personalities. I feel like I know them.
I always imagine them in Neverland. Having adventures, running through lush jungles and sparkling lagoons, playing games and laughing. They’ve joined the band of Lost Boys (there are girls there too), the children moms have lost too soon.
Last week Peter and Lily waited at the edge of the jungle, waiting with great anticipation. A little boy stumbled out to them, he looked familiar, he looked like their daddy.
“How are they?” asked Peter, the first of our little group
“How’s mother?” asked Lily, our little girl.
Theodore looked up at them with tears in his eyes, “They miss you. Mom misses you every day. She wants us there with her. She loves us so much”
They fall into a group, comforting each other, they know they’ll see us someday. For now they will turn around and head off on an adventure.
We are asking why. Why are we in this position again? Why I am I sitting on the couch yearning for another baby gone too soon?
I don’t remember it being this difficult. I know it will get easier. I know it will be okay. But for now I’m dreaming of Neverland.



There are times when I feel my babies’ presence more than others. They come unexpectedly, sometimes they are moments to smile and just feel close to them, like they are letting me know that they are okay, they’re in Heaven and having fun cloud surfing or something. Other times they hit me like a ton of bricks and I’m left trying to pick up the pieces before anyone notices that I’m not okay. 

Maybe those sad moments are the ones that come from my insecurities or my jealousy. Maybe it’s just the nature of grief to have happy nostalgic moments and sad moments and you never know what you’re going to get. 

This last miscarriage has been the hardest. I kept asking Austin if I was like this with the other two, sad, numb, uninterested in life, feeling like I’ll never get better, not knowing if I want to get better. He said I was, but I didn’t believe him. I must have blocked out those first months after the other two because I don’t remember. I should always belive him. 

This week I realized I feel better. I’m beginning to remember who I am. I’ve had more good moments than bad. In fact I can only think of one bad baby moment this week and I was feeling so good that the sadness surprised me, caught me off guard. 

I love those sweet babies so much, I loved my moments with them. I didn’t have many, but they were the best moments of my life. Telling Austin he was going to be a daddy for the first time, seeing that first baby on the ultrasound screen, feeling so strongly that the second baby was a girl, feeling like she was a promise of good to come, knowing without a doubt that I was pregnant the third time and just waiting for it to be long enough that a test would come back positive, feeling morning sickness for the first time with the third, telling Walt (our cat) he was going to be a big brother and having him jump up on our laps and “head boop” us. They aren’t all regular moments of pregnancy but they are precious to me – they’re all I have. 

Life is made up of moments. I am feeling better, I am getting back to who I was in a way, but I’ve also changed again. Each baby made an impact on my heart. Each baby changed me. So while I get back to who I was, I am yet agin figuring out who I am now. 

Becca Toews, mother of three babies in heaven. 

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