Little Souls and The Gift of Wings | Life Love and Hiccups: Little Souls and The Gift of Wings
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Friday 22 March 2013

Little Souls and The Gift of Wings

Pin It Someone once told me a story that when a mother loses a baby, that precious little soul is blessed with very special wings.

Some of the little souls are gifted with very special heavenly wings and they use their wings to fly silently around their mother, always watching over her and keeping her safe until the time arrives for them to be reunited in heaven.

The other little souls are gifted with earth wings and they use their wings to make their way down from heaven and back to their mother's womb where they are reborn in the role they were destined for - an earthly child.

It is not for us to decide who gets which wings. It is a fate only the heavens know about.

Now I don't know about the afterlife - who does?

But I have beliefs and those beliefs may be shared by others or they may be entirely different. But I don't think it matters what your beliefs are, so long as they bring you comfort and hope, after all isn't that their purpose?

After losing my third baby to an ectopic pregnancy, the story about the little souls and the gift of wings gave me great comfort and such an incredible amount of hope.

I believe that somehow that hope manifested into something so incredibly beautiful ... My youngest son Flynn.

6 years and 10 months ago I was preparing for my oldest son's 5th Birthday Party when the most intense pain hit me. It gnawed at me deep in my belly and with only minutes before we were due to leave for his party I was on the bathroom floor curled in agony.

But not wanting to disappoint a little boy who was so excited about his birthday party, I popped some Panadol, put on my biggest smile and headed off to the party where fortunately, he had the most fabulous time.

The pain didn't subside, it got worse and spread to my shoulder. By the time we said goodbye to the last guest we decided that my husband would drop me off at the hospital on the way home from the party and to cut a long story short - I was admitted to hospital for emergency surgery for a ruptured ectopic pregnancy.

After I woke from the surgery, I lay quietly in my hospital bed and I sobbed and I sobbed and I sobbed some more.

I cried tears for my brave little 5 year old who woke up on his birthday morning without his mum there to scream Happy Birthday and smother him in kisses. I cried that I was not there to watch him smile with his tongue out the side of his mouth when he tore open his carefully selected gifts. And then I cried some more for the cake he was looking forward to sharing with his Daddy and I, his little brother and his Nan & Pop - the cake that remained nothing more than eggs in the fridge and flour in the cupboard.

But most of all I cried for the little baby I had just said goodbye to and I cried with anger and disbelief that I was saying goodbye to a child for the third time.

A nurse came in to check on me and when she saw me sobbing she asked quietly if she could sit with me for a while.

Craving some company to distract me from my grief, I said yes and managed to give her just the smallest hint of a smile.

It was then as she sat on the side of my bed,  that the kind maternity nurse shared with me some of her beliefs and told me the story of the little souls and the gift of wings.

Miraculously just 6 weeks later we were thrilled to find out I was pregnant again and after a scan confirmed that my one remaining ovary and fallopian tube had clearly gotten their act together and ensured the baby was indeed where it was supposed to be this time, I cried again.

This time they were tears of pure joy.

My baby had used his wings to find his way home to me.



Today that baby turns 6 and he is every bit the epitome of comfort and hope. He is a reminder that having beliefs can bring the greatest of rewards and that happiness will surely always follow sorrow..... if you just keep believing.

As I said - I really don't know about the after life or what goes on in heaven. But in my mind I have a story that plays out. The story of a clumsy little soul that tried 3 times to make it to earth. Each time he got a little lost or distracted by squirrels or maybe he just kept tripping over his wings and had to return to heaven a few times for a new set.

But one day, with determination in his heart, he flew with all his might and made it safely to where he belonged.

With his mama.

With me.

Happy Birthday my clumsy little Flynn. Everyday you remind me that the world is full of hope and for that my beautiful boy I thank you.



Now in your words (as you told me this morning) "Let's crack open the red fizzy drink, we are gonna get crazy!"