Born on the 3rd of October

To our sweet baby girl, Happy Birthday as you live with our Lord and His angels forever! You are missed and loved. Meredith, you will never be forgotten. Even if your Dad and I someday have dementia, I know that in some primal way, you will forever be a part of our hearts. You made us parents, and your loss made us want to be someone else's parents. Your brother and sisters are a testament to that. Baby girl, we love you forever and ever.

The Yellow Booties

After Meredith died, I wanted another baby more than anything. My husband wanted one, too, but I don't think he was as desperate as I. We were told that I might never conceive again and if I did, I might never carry a baby to viability. She was born in October of 1974 and I didn't think another baby was coming when I did finally find out I was pregnant in November of 1977. Modern age, yes, but there were no sonograms used except in very large hospitals and there were no drugstore pregnancy tests. I had missed two periods and had a blood test to verify the pregnancy. We told everyone we knew, with pride and trepidation. The incompetent cervix that doctors had said I had with Meredith, the postpartum hemorrhaging, the other problems - they could and might very well return to rob our lives of this baby. We tread on thin ice. One moment we were full of hope, the next moment we were scared to death of what might transpire.
I did start having complications soon. Spotting, extreme morning sickness, and other symptoms led the doctor to ground me from all travel until the baby came. Our parents lived out of town and we couldn't visit them. I dreaded Christmas, but luckily our families came to see us. We were thrilled! Mother brought an extra little package for us. If I remember correctly, it was in a small brown paper sack. Mother said that our old friends Miss Bill and Miss Aurilla McFarland had sent it. I opened it up to find the softest, palest yellow knitted booties that one of the dear sisters-in-law had made. They probably went in together on the yarn. Everyone else was telling us to not buy any baby things, to wait so if something happened to the baby we wouldn't have reminders of the loss. But these two darlings had sent us hope for a child in the form of yellow booties.  We clung to that hope when I had further complications, bed rest, progesterone shots, and the almost certainty of another premature delivery.
On June 20, 1978, our son Adam was so huge and firmly entrenched within me that the doctor had to induce delivery. Our babe who was supposed to be early weighed 8lbs, 10ozs. and was 22" long.
Two years, two weeks, and three days later we were blessed with twins girls, Amanda and Angie. They were surprises in more ways than one! But they were healthy, though tiny. They took turns wearing the yellow booties - those sweet emblems of hope. I still have those emblems and will always keep them. The Bible says to not lay up earthly treasures, but instead lay up treasures in Heaven. The booties are Heavenly treasure to me for they transformed fear into hope.