Sunday, December 11, 2011

Keeping Track

Last week, while in the car on the way to daycare, the girls and I heard the sad news that Michelle Duggar had misscarried her 20th (is that right?) child. Fan of the Duggars or not, it's always sad to me when I hear of a miscarriage, especially since I thought I had miscarried Ivy in the early weeks of my pregnancy.

As we were sitting in the car, listening to the radio, I said something to the effect of "oh how sad".

"What's sad, mommy?" Ivy asked.

I struggled with how to word this. Ivy has been quite concerned with death and going to Heaven lately--she's worried that I'll go and leave her here alone. She's worried that she'll have to go and leave all of her toys. She seems to understand that Great Grandma Olson (who passed away in March) is in Heaven now and that that's a good thing--she's not hurting anymore and she's with Great Grandpa Olson who passed on more than ten years ago. She seems to associate babies who aren't born yet as being still in Heaven--God hasn't sent them down yet. How then, can I explain a miscarriage to her?

"Well," I said, "this nice lady just lost her baby and we shoud pray for her."

"Oh." She lamented for a moment and then said rather emphatically, "Well, that's why you gotta keep track of it!"

I burst into laughter. When Ivy looses something she's told to keep better track of it. It stands to reason, in her 5-year-old mind, that to loose a baby means you haven't kept good track of it.

While every part of my mother's heart sympathizes with Mrs. Duggar, I do not appologize for laughing at the simple mind of my pre-schooler who is forever loosing things that are precious to her.

1 comment:

Tiggerr said...

We all got a laugh at that one here. I often wonder about the words we use in the English language to describe thing. It is truly sad when we lose a loved one to death. But we haven't lost anything in the truest sence of the word. At least the words of children. We know exactly where they are. They are in their graves or up in heaven with God. Not lost like a toy or even a job. And certainly never far from our hearts.

I read a column in the paper the other day. The writer wanted to know what to say to relatives who insisted on asking how much money she made. She was told to say she was comfortably off, or well off. I'd like to know where that phrase came from. I sure would like to know how it feels

Thanks for sharing another ivyism