In Loving Memory

Just as you cannot understand the path of the wind or the mystery of a tiny baby growing in its mother’s womb, so you cannot understand the activity of God, who does all things. (Ecclesiastes 11:5)


Today we honor the memory of our precious son, Nicholas Allen Frank, who was stillborn one year ago on September 16, 2007. He had been with us for 23 weeks when we discovered that his little heart had stopped beating. Nicholas weighed just 12.6 ounces and was 10.75 inches long, but he was perfectly formed and so beautiful to us. He will be forever in the arms of Jesus, until we see him again one day.To all parents out there, hug your kids a little tighter today and thank God for the true miracle of their lives, for life can be taken from us all too easily. I no longer take pregnancy or the blessing of having a healthy child for granted.

One way I coped with my grief was to journal about my pregnancy and thoughts from a mother to her son. Here's a few thoughts I wanted to share:

I regret…
being scared to look at you or hold you right after your birth—and so grateful that your daddy and grandparents convinced me to—and now I wish I would have spent even more time with you; not thinking to ask someone to bring our good camera to the hospital, so the only photos we have of you are poor quality and don’t show your true beauty; going home from the hospital empty-handed, like this was some cruel joke; that you never got to know your sister and your family, especially your wonderful grandparents.

I wonder…
if you would have looked more like Maddie, daddy or me; what your personality would have been like; what you would have loved growing up—trucks, trains, mud puddles, books, the playground?; if you would have loved being outdoors just like Maddie; if you would have been a crazy, rambunctious ball of energy like all the other little boys I know.

I hope…
that when we see you in Heaven you’ll tell us your full story; that we will find ways to honor your memory and the short time we had with you on earth; that when we find the courage to have another child, somehow you would bless him or her with a bit of your spirit so that we may see glimpses of you.

I know…
that the reason why you were taken from us may never be fully known while I am still on this earth; that you are now in the arms of Jesus, waiting to welcome us Home; that your daddy and sister and I will love you and remember your precious life forever—you will always be our son.



“Profound grief changes you. It can teach you how strong you really are; it can renew your faith; it can leave a deep void in your life; it can remind you of what’s important; it can change your perspective. When you lose someone you love, life’s never really the same again.”
--Angie Lucas