Tomorrow our country will remember and pay tribute to the many people who lost their lives on September 11, 2001. Today I think of the little baby who flew away at this time of year 6 years ago. There are many things I could say, but I think I've said most of them in other posts I've written about miscarriage. My heart doesn't hurt as much as it used to, and that's okay. Esther Bihana Hope lived in me only a short while, but she was dearly loved and is missed. Sometimes I wonder what she would be like, which of my other kids she might have resembled. I wish that no mama ever had to go through the pain of losing a baby. It is a blessing when people remember with me. She is a part of our family, a baby we never got to know and hold in our arms. At this time of year, I often think of her and remember those very difficult days after her loss. I remember the numbness and the pain and being surrounded by so much love and support. At the same time I give thanks for the four healthy children I do have and the life God has given me. I've always thought that sorrow digs deep, but love fills that space, and the more we have hurt the more we can love. I pray for healing and grace for all who sorrow, and for love to fill the hurting places.