Parenting with a Stitched Heart

There are thousands of blogs out there on how to parent and how not to parent, and every point of the spectrum seems to be touched-on when it comes to what ‘type’ of parenting style you should choose. This post, by no means, is a ‘how to’ sentiment.

In my opinion, parenting is love put into action. It can’t be much of anything else because so much action and so much love is demanded and necessary for the job. It’s non-stop work on the soul with lots of play in between so that’s why parents are tired all the time! Love put into action can take on many forms, and parenting is full of different stages and purposes so for that reason I will not even bother painting an image of what parenting should look and feel like because I’m not sure of it myself, but recently my husband and I have felt called to share our perspective on parenting after loss. In opening up about our parenthood with a new awareness of life’s fragility, our hope is to let you know that you are not alone in these thoughts and worries, that you do in fact encounter a strange kind of bereaved-parenting, and that hope can be pulled from the scars.

Laying in the dark, listening for noise, leaping out of bed to check once again that your child is breathing… Bracing yourself always, for the worst.

Flashing back, flashing forward, immediately worrying that silence or a phone call means death. 

Fearing the worst when your living children complain of anything out of the ordinary.

Saying no to anything too far out of your control for fear that you may be saying goodbye to your loved one for the last time.

Absolutely cringing when you witness people doing anything dangerous or taking their children’s lives for granted.


This list could go on for quite awhile but you get the point. The main commonality my husband and I have noticed when listening to other bereaved parents is the appreciation for every day/moment we are given and the anxiety of knowing that life is so very fragile and can be gone in a second.

Living with these fears can cripple a parent and their relationship with their God, spouse, children and peers. I remember listening to one mom describing her struggle with OCD and another couple who couldn’t bring themselves to have children again since losing their child in utero. It is hard, hard work to keep the fear in check. I, for one, have struggled with an anxiety that can effect me physically, so know that I do not pretend to have figured any of this out.

This new place we find ourselves in as parents means realizing new things about ourselves, about this life, and about death (which obviously has been around forever, but is different when it takes a child). I recently read an article from a Grieving Mom to a NON-Grieving Mom that put into words what our hearts were already experiencing. It might shed some light on how learning to live with this ‘anguish’ would affect everything about you, including your parenting.


Have you ever been in a store, at a park, in a crowded area filled with strangers and turned around to suddenly realize that your child has disappeared? Do you know the feeling of panic that ensues? Are you familiar with that terror? That ‘aloneness’? That horror? The utter confusion that envelops you? The trepidation that is felt in every fiber of your body? That momentary feeling that your heart simply forgot its next beat? The initial denial that is suddenly transformed into terrifying anguish?

. . .

If you can relate to this, then imagine it continuing on for hours, days, weeks, months, years…. Imagine being forever lost in this endless torment of crying out with every fiber of your being for your child that has disappeared. If you are able to relate to this for even a moment, you have for this moment, tried on my shoes.”


Much of the pain we encounter in our parenting with stitched hearts is this crying out for a child who is no longer here. It is love, wanting to be put into action for that specific child, but with nowhere to go, so it often manifests itself in a fear of some other impending death or a struggle to have joy because the void cannot be filled – the ‘crying out’ will not be silenced. It is a battle to stay present, to refocus over and over again on what IS and to leave the rest to God’s power and will. What is God’s will in all of this anyway? This place where our family feels broken but is also continuing on? I know that evil would like to rob us of any good, but God has much to give through our parenting children on earth and in heaven.

I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live. That each of them may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all their toil—this is the gift of God. I know that everything God does will endure forever; nothing can be added to it and nothing taken from it.”

-Ecclesiastes 3:12-14 

For example, when we watch our living children play, we soak in the moment like none other because this moment is a gift from God. We snuggle extra long, we kiss our babies EVERY night, we don’t hesitate to say something kind, deep or sometimes challenging to others because NOW is the time to say it. We let the small stuff slide – life is too short to avoid not getting dirty, staying up late, and experiencing hard but good things. Life is too fleeting to put God aside for a more convenient time. Heaven is real in our house – our children’s brother lives there so we talk about him and his joy as if we were talking about the neighbor friend going to summer camp. We wonder about what he’s done ‘today’ and we send him love notes in our prayers every night.

Speaking of prayers, parenting with stitched hearts means praying A LOT. Asking God for help, for the ability to trust, to love like him, to teach our living kids well and to help us all to heaven. Like all parents we worry if we’re doing it right and with the added fear and “down days” when your heart is so broken, it’s easy to fail in one way or many. We have found that praying from the heart as a family brings about the closest thing to healing and it allows us to reflect on our day, to be thankful, and to ask God and our saintly brother for guidance.

Fear is most definitely NOT the answer, nor the parenting style or lifestyle my husband and I wish to use. It is a symptom of the scars, it can be valid, but it should not be the inspiration. On our good days we remember to question what it is that we fear and why. If death is what we’re fearing, with faith that fear should be consoled. Death is not the end, only a spiritual death is worthy of being feared. Ecclesiastes 3:11 is so profound… “He has set eternity in the human heart;” Hasn’t death been stitched into our hearts? Pierced by the pain of realizing that life is fragile and fleeting? That we will never get to kiss our children again? On some days none of it seems to have a purpose, just so. much. pain. Rather than death, we must realize that eternity is what we are being made aware of, it’s absolutely brutal, but good, so good that “…no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.”

God has set heaven on our hearts as bereaved parents and our lucky children get to be there sooner than we do. Soak this thought in, and let that love wash over you Mom and Dad, let it inspire every day of your life here, every encounter with others, every act of love for your children. Living with this fear and struggle is in no way easy, but it can be good too. We pray for you!

Love, The Edmans




St. Zélie Martin and Overcoming Grief in Hope by MICHELE CHRONISTER – Article

“You know that the only hope of reunion is heaven, and with a renewed sense of purpose, you journey to heaven as a family. Your family life becomes divided, with one foot on Earth, and one in heaven.

Heaven can no longer be dismissed as “someday” if it is the present reality of a member of the family.”

April 21, 2017

| Fat and happy and oh so precious |

I can’t really express how watching him warms and stabs at the heart. I wish terribly that we could’ve known Clark the way we’re getting to know this sweet boy. I ache to know my second son and I know our family is forever missing what might’ve been. At the same time I’m so incredibly grateful because Clark continues to teach us what it means to live and love… I’m grateful to kiss these warm, chubby cheeks. I’m grateful to watch my boys on earth grow and to witness their personalities. I’m grateful for the pain even, because with it I can never lose sight of our heavenly goal. With all the other thoughts that pass through my mama heart, I’m grateful Clark is praying for us, and loving us, and with Jesus. He knows our hearts, I just can’t wait to know his.  #littleLaz#ClarkJob #lifeloveloss #rainbowbaby #thankfulforeachday


Meet Our “Stormy” Rainbow Baby!

On January 17th, 2017 Clark’s younger brother was born! He is our “Stormy” Rainbow Baby because he had to spend two weeks in the NICU before being allowed to come home and meet his oldest brother, Gabe – a joyful coming home to say the least!

Lazarus James, “Laz” for short, has captured our hearts just like his brothers before him! His name, the name of Jesus’ best friend, means “God is my help.” Jesus wept at Lazarus’ tomb (John 11) and it is said that his tears were for all of humanity. Then he prayed to the Father and called Lazarus out, ALIVE. What a testimony to the resurrection and life we have in Christ and a mirrored reminder of God’s loving plan for our sons, and all of His children.

As difficult as it was to stand by and watch our Laz struggle in his early weeks of life, we could feel his big brother Clark with us in that tiny NICU room as he reminded us of what a gift it all is – even each breath. Today, we are loving life at home with two darling boys while continuing to love on our sweet one in heaven.

Needless to say, we are thankful beyond all measure and each moment with our Rainbow Baby has been such a gift. Thank you, thank you for all of the prayers from our friends near and far!!

Love, this Rainbow Mama 

“Jesus works miracles for His dearest friends only after He has tested their faith. He let Lazarus die, even though Martha and Mary sent word that he was sick. But after the trial, what rewards! Lazarus rises from the dead.”

– St Therese of Lisieux