poetry • art • marriage • momhood • faith

Before we bury you


Dear Lightning Bug,

It has been over two weeks since I first held you in my arms, over four months too soon. Two weeks since we gave you your “real” name, Alexander Gregory.  Two weeks since we told you goodbye.


I am so sad that you aren’t with us, inside me anymore. Every doctor I had spoken with had reiterated the same sentiment: there was no reason to expect you to be born as early as your brother John Blaise. This was not supposed to happen.


But it did.  So Daddy and I have ordered your grave marker, we have made arrangements for a memorial mass tomorrow. We have your ashes in a two-inch-tall urn on our mantle, where your big brother’s sat nearly three years ago.  And we will bury you by your brother.


All of this is supposed to give me some kind of closure, people tell me.  Of course, most of those people have never lost a baby.  I’m not expecting anything quite so magical.  I am hoping for peace at least.  I am hoping for scar tissue to close the wound, to desensitize me enough for the waves of anger to subside.


God and I have had many one-sided “heated discussions” lately.  He knows I’m angry.  I know I just don’t see the big picture.  I trust this isn’t “God’s will” but something He will lead us all through.  But right now, it’s hard.  It’s really hard, LB. I miss you, little boy.


The days are getting easier, I guess.  But some moments are unbearable. Please pray for your mommy, Alexander.  And the rest of us who miss you so dearly.





  1. Robin Simkins Robin Simkins
    September 20, 2013    

    I wish I could give you a real hug. My heart aches for you. Please know that my Bible study group has you all in their prayers.

  2. Sally Cain Sally Cain
    September 20, 2013    

    Know, Julie, that your eloquent sharing of your pain touches many people and serves as a staff to others who are making the journey. May you find that peace.

  3. Kim Blum-Hyclak Kim Blum-Hyclak
    September 20, 2013    

    You continue to take my breath away with your powerful, loving and honest words. I agree this isn’t God’s will, so glad you are having those ‘one-sided heated discussions’ with Him. I wish you and Jonathan the peace that can only come with time, not so sure closure is ever closed.

    See you tomorrow.

  4. Joyce Ledgerwood Joyce Ledgerwood
    September 23, 2013    

    My Dear Daughter,
    Oh how I wish I could take away your pain and carry it for you. Somehow though, I feel it is through all this heartache and suffering something else as beautiful as your boys is to be born. Already you’ve proven just how many lives you have helped heal with your writing…some may never be healed completely, but you have formed yet another tendril on the vine of the sisterhood you have entered. Please have faith that you are stronger than you think you are. You and Jonathan will get through this once again by Gods mercy.

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torch bearing quietly

I will not act out, will not
yell or curse or slam doors,
will not make a scene -- you
do not deserve such a chance
to make an example out of me
to be proven right since you
are not. Instead, I'll stand
at this street corner, raise
my hand high and clench that
light which yet remains. It
will burn brightly, quietly,
fiercely before fading as I.

Then I'll be gone but found.

©JAC 2005

Poetry by Julie Ann Cook!

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