Healing the Grief of the Baby that was Never Born

My neighbor and I were chatting in my driveway while our children were playing. They were entertaining themselves by pouring cups of water from the blow-up pool onto the pavement covered with chalk, making big streaks of color on the ground.

It is rare to get in real conversation while parenting. What with children screaming and asking for snacks every five minutes. But we managed locked into a discussion around family planning. Specifically, about what it would be and feel like to have three children (we both have two kids).

While we were going back and forth, I shocked him by revealing that I had actually wanted a third. My husband got a vasectomy last year, so my neighbor was surprised by this news.

When he asked me why I wanted more, I told him casually that I had been visited by the soul of the child.

My neighbors know I’m a medium so this wasn’t a mic-drop moment, but it did lead to a thoughtful follow up question.

He asked, “So how did you get over not having a third?”

Then a memory popped into my mind.

Last summer I visited Lily Dale to take a workshop about plant spiritualism. The practitioner was a medium who told us the most delightful stories about working with plants. How they can recognize your face, how they heal you with their beauty, and how you can even do readings with them.

After the class was over he went around one by one and told us messages from the flowers.

I was the last student to get a reading.

As he looked at the daisy then back at me he said, “You have two children. But you wanted a third.”

My heart skipped a beat. Of course, he was right.

“It would have been a boy. But he doesn’t want you to be his mother. He wants to come in as your grandson. You two will be very close.”

Tears welled in my eyes and I felt a chill down my spine.

I nodded, not knowing what to say.

After the class the teacher gave me a handful of daisies to take home that sat quietly on my desk all summer long. They reminded me of the little soul in Spirit who had visited me.

He hadn’t gone away, he had just made other plans. And since that reading I can honestly say I’ve released the idea of having a third.

What I know about being a mother is that we are always on our children’s timelines. They tell us when they want to talk, walk, and even be born. At times, it feels like we are just the grateful bystanders.

It also taught me the power of a great reading. My teacher’s simple message changed the way I looked at my narrative and rewrote the story in the most unexpected and beautiful way.

I know that one day I’ll connect with that soul again.

So mote it be.

Erin