Dear Little Sister,

My heart broke upon hearing that you lost your baby. We were all so happy when you announced the good news that you were expecting. Now, only 18 weeks later, she is gone.

I am glad that you got to see her and hold her. She was so tiny, yet beautiful and perfectly formed. You named her and now we can speak of Jacinta as one who lived and died in Christ.

To find the right things to say or do to comfort you, I imagine myself in your place. One of my own children has died in this daydream-nightmare. I can only stand to hold this terrifying thought for a few minutes. It is ever y parent's greatest fear. How can you bear would-be comforters who say, “It's probably better this way” or “ You can try again”? I would cover my ears and turn away. There is no way to exchange Jacinta for another. She already had her father's nose, for heaven's sake.

You always wanted to be a mother and now you are. The moment that you knew she was growing inside you, the transformation was complete. “The baby” was always in your thoughts, words and actions. You put aside your career, health and safety for her life. You fell in love with her, sight unseen. Once a mother; always a mother. There is no going back. You had too few of the joys of earthly motherhood and you suffered the greatest sorrows, but you succeeded in a mother's work. Our goal is for our children to get to heaven. You have done all you can to see to that.

Now yours is an uphill battle—to live through grief, to survive anger and despair, to recover physically, mentally and spiritually. Your deeply shadowed eyes show that you don't sleep at night. When your head hits the pillow, you say all you hear is “Why?”

You have heard the doctors' explanations and they are not satisfying. They shrug. “Anything before 20 weeks we don't even count,” they say. “It wasn't meant to be.”

How can she be “not meant to be?” She was. We saw her pictures in the sonograms. You held her and kissed her in the hospital before they took her away. She is just as real as any man, woman or child who has walked this earth. Her soul is just as precious as the Lord's oldest saints.

Now you groan, sigh and cry, “Why, God? Why?”

You are in good company. For centuries saints and theologians have questioned why bad things happen to good people. Even Christ himself asked, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

You can ask “Why?” in good faith, but you have to accept that you may not hear or understand God's answer. How can we comprehend him, who sent his only child to be tortured and murdered for the sake of the guilty? We do know that by his suffering Jesus made our suffering holy and worth bearing.

Let your little child lead you. Your burgeoning love for her opens the door to understanding God's fatherly love for you. Just as you long for your daughter, God yearns for you. He wants to take you in His arms and comfort you. Your motherly love is as deep as a well. God's love for you is an immense sea. Accept his gift of faith and let it salve your burning pain. Without him there is only bitterness and death. With him there is healing and hope. With him you know that your beloved child lives and is perfectly happy.

Jacinta knows that you love her. She is a little saint who prays for you and loves you dearly. In God's own good time you will be with her, never again to be parted.

With love and prayers,

Your big sister

Kathleen Whitney Barr writes from Newark, Delaware.