I’m a member of a few clothing message boards – what stemmed from my original love of Matilda Jane became a way to connect with other moms and talk about not only our love of boutique baby clothes but life as well. I recognize that I don’t really “know” these women, even though I have learned a great deal about motherhood from them. Never having met any of them in the flesh, we connect over that first cup of coffee in the morning – chatting about life and sharing pics of our kids.

A few weeks ago one of the ladies was posting polls for baby boy names…due in October, she settled on Cullen and was preparing for his arrival. She has three other children.

Yesterday I logged on to find out that the baby passed away on the 11th – stillborn at 34 weeks. Baby boy Cullen (her “travelling angel” she calls him). This baby she loved and carried all these months, is gone and she is left standing in the valley of her grief, “trying to walk a course that she cannot yet find”.

My heart is just unbelievably broken for this woman.

Just yesterday I was complaining to Vann about the debt we’ve accrued from moving ourselves cross-country and starting from scratch in a much bigger home – how frustrated I am that we have to be more careful with our purchases now and what a drag it is to have to budget.

I go to feed my baby girl and get frustrated because she’s not self-feeding at 10 months and I have to take extra time to sit down and help her – when I would really love to be able to throw some food down on her tray and move onto the next thing.

While this woman is grieving the loss of her child I am complaining about my lack of freedom and feeling sorry for myself.

Is it any wonder why we need Christ in our hearts? As my mom says, “You don’t have to teach children to be selfish.” You don’t have to teach adults to be selfish, either, and I think sometimes being selfish might be my job, I’m so good at it.

As I write this, Charlie is sitting at her little table eating pretzels and talking to her “friends” -a motley crew of stuffed penguins, Little Einsteins action figures and a wind-up chick she got in her Easter basket last year that has long lost it’s get-up-and-go.

Baby Ella is sleeping peacefully in her room. I have a sweet and funny husband who loves me, a beautiful roof over my head, a strong body and mind, and a soul captured by Jesus Christ. I have a giving family and renewed relationships with my brothers. I have two beautiful and precious little girls and the opportunity to stay home to raise them.

I just wanted to write myself a reminder of all of the good and powerful things in my life, in case I forget, which I’m sure I will. Because although I do feel like I have faced the great precipice of sorrow in my 32 years, today I have no reason to weep, except for this sweet woman’s great and tragic loss.