Heaven help us, but my child is going to have to learn to allow clothing to touch her precious skin. She's generally an enjoyable little person when wandering the aisles of the local Target, as we did this morning, checking off items on a list. And though we tried on a half dozen pairs of tennis shoes of various styles and colors (very important), I'm here to boldly declare that a) I still have little idea what size shoe the Elder wears and b) I'm pretty sure that her feet are different sizes (mine are...probably not that uncommon).
But despite the generally festive mood that accompanies shoe shopping and purchasing of #2 pencils and plastic folders, my heart has been feeling heavy lately. A dear college friend and her husband inexplicably lost their unborn son at 37 weeks of gestation. This is not my story, so it wasn't something that I was going to include here. But I decided that I will because of an organization that I want to focus on for a brief moment.
An organization called Hudson's Bands of Hope reached out to my friend by doing what they do best: providing support and hope for grieving parents. The most current information that they have posted states that they have reached 14 hospitals, 34 states, and 4 countries. That's great, but surely the outreach can be more extensive.
When my friend received her bracelet in the mail, it was postmarked from my town. And other information seems to indicate that it is in fact a local ministry that has a worldwide impact. While the name of the organization sounds vaguely familiar to me, I can't place when I have heard about it.
What I do know is that this is a heartfelt and selfless ministry. I know that there are other organizations around the state and country that work to provide a sense of healing and community to those who have been affected by the loss of a baby or child. I know that it has already been impactful in my friend's life.
And, I know that as soon as I finish typing these last few sentences, I will be contacting Hudson's Bands of Hope to find out if there is any way that I can help. This is the second time this year alone when someone who is near and dear to me has left the hospital without their blurry-eyed babe, and that's twice too many times.