I’m working from home today. I need to insulate myself a bit from the world.  I definitely do not want to see babies today.  Six years ago today, I gave birth to our precious baby at 18 weeks. It was too soon and she was born still, my small consolation that my body protected her until her soul went to Heaven. It was a long and painful week leading up to that moment – one where Matt & I prayed that God would perform a miracle.  God had other plans. And so she resides in Heaven with the angels. I know that one day, we will see her again.

While I’ve mostly made peace with that, and my faith has grown stronger because of what we went through, today is still a difficult day.  This year, the days and dates line up as they were six years ago, and the hurt in my heart seems to be a little heavier than in the past. In some ways, I feel like I’m reliving it all over again.

I also suspect that the recent spate of undercover videos about Planned Parenthood and their profiteering off of the remains of aborted babies hasn’t helped. These stories disgust me to my core.  Once upon a time, in my idealized youth, I used to be ‘pro-choice.’   I wasn’t for abortion; it was just not a choice I’d ever make for myself. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned what a miracle we are. How improbable is our creation; every single element must be right to start the process of a new life. We are fearfully and wonderfully made in His image. My heart turned toward every life deserving a chance.

That feeling is cemented, once again, as I sit in my home office, trying to work. To my left is a small silver frame. Safely ensconced inside is a little placard with our baby’s tiny footprints. Neither her left nor her right foot is as big as the tip of my thumb, but they are real and they are perfect. Ten tiny toes, two perfect little feet, which I suspect might have been pigeon toed, like me.  Above her prints someone – a nurse, the chaplain maybe, I’m not sure – lovingly penned her name, Hope Adeline Stark, and her date of birth beneath them. It is my tangible proof that she was real, that we have a daughter, even if she wasn’t with us for very long.  Of all that God has blessed me with, the contents of that frame mean so much.

Her tiny, perfect prints

I look at her footprints and cannot begin to fathom how someone could so heartlessly do what Planned Parenthood does. I firmly believe the soul is bound to the body at conception.  We may have all sorts of scientific terms to refer to a baby during gestation – zygote, embryo, fetus – but they amount to the same thing: a baby. It’s a new life, and it’s precious.

I pray nightly for those ensnared in the business of Planned Parenthood. I pray for their change of heart. I pray for their souls as they knowingly commit murder for greed.  I pray that God will guide me to help others change their hearts.  I pray for the souls of all those babies who didn’t get a chance. And I pray that Hope Adeline knows how much she is loved and how much she means to us. Because this mom would give anything to be able to hold her child and play This Little Piggy with her ten perfect toes.