« First Day of Fall: A Photo Essay | Main | on Normal, Successful, and the Meaning of Life. Maybe. »

Wednesday, September 23, 2009



I love the quilts you make. You always have something you are working on, and I think that is so cool. I've slacked on my creativity this year, but I've got some projects I want to get going on.

I'm glad you found an outlet. I wish you could have had her.


I've mourned the same way - even though I'd never undo either of my sons, there was a girl in my heart who needed to be mourned.


This is absolutely beautiful, I am sitting here in the dark with tears streaming down my face.

Thank you for sharing this.


Melanie Bell

It's not unusual that I'm reading your blog with tears in my eyes. This time it's because I'm pregnant with another baby boy, who I'm thrilled about. But there's a little nagging worry that I may never get that second girl (I have a 5yo daughter) who I'm so sure is supposed to come. I've got boxes of pink things waiting for her eventual arrival, and every once in a while I allow myself to think about the possibility that she won't ever come. I guess I could say that I'm afraid someday I will feel your pain.

I share your love of quilting, except that I almost exclusively make baby blankets. I use mostly flannel, with some minkie thrown in here and there, and I LOVE the process of putting fabrics together and then turning them into a finished product. I enjoy giving them away almost as much, even though I feel every time like I've given away a little part of me. Maybe that's what makes the gift-giving so satisfying.

You need to post more pictures of the quilts you make. The ones I've seen are beautiful, especially that autumn one!


I love the quilt you made our little guy. I very much enjoyed reading the emotions behind these beautiful treasures, painful and all. Thanks for sharing your heart, Amy.


I get twinges of sadness when I think about my unborn daughters. I always, always pictured myself as a mother of girls, so three boys was not what I pictured in my life. I adore them and think Heavenly Father knew exactly what I needed to learn. And yet.

I miss her too. I miss her as a 60 year-old woman without a daughter to go help as she has her own babies. I miss her as a teenager, freaking out about her acne and being every bit as dramatic as a daughter of mine would be. And, of course, I miss the pinks. The bloomers covering diapers under dresses and Mary Jane shoes and hair with matching bows.

I'm glad you have an outlet. What a beautiful way to a mother to many daughters.


I'm with Lucy here. I love my sons, but there are many things about raising a daughter that I will miss.

I'm also with you on having a husband who questions my use of time. In fact, as I read, I began to wonder if we married the same person (ha, ha), but that couldn't be! There is this constant struggle between trying to fit the mold he desires and standing on my feet and saying, "This is who I am! These very things you disdain are the essense of me!"

kelly edgerton

The picute of your son wrapped in the quilt is amazing. You need to enlarge that and have it framed. It says so much about who you are and the kind of mother you are to your sweet children.

So... where did you get the amazing fabric? I've never seen anything that pretty around here. I'm guessing you are going to tell me that you ordered it... this is my weakness. I can't visit online fabric locations because I have no control when it comes to the "buy" button.

Love you BIG,

A guy who sort of understands

You don't ever need to defend your creative impulse to your husband, or to anybody else. The same goes for your reading and anything else. Whether he knows it or not, the parts of you that drive you to do those things combine to make you the person he fell in love with.

(Me, I still can't understand why a man would spend hours sitting in front of a TV watching somebody else play football, but that's just me.)

If you're lucky, one day he'll wake up and realize that. If not, well, that's his loss.

And speaking of loss, the sorrow you feel for the daughter you never had will never go away completely, but several forces in the universe will combine over the years to dull the pain and replace at least a part of it with joy.

To begin with, the girls you will serve in primary and YW will grow to love you and be willing recipients of your love. When they come home to visit, as adult women, they'll seek you out and embrace you and talk to you for what seems like hours. And when your boys are old enough, each of them will bring home a special girl to meet you, and he will hope, silently and desperately, that you will envelop her with your love and adopt her as one of your own.

And if you're one of the lucky ones, then one day you will find a girl who has been aching for a mother as desperately as you have been aching for a daughter, and you will fill the voids in each other's heart. I hope you are that lucky.


isn't it amazing that we can miss a child we never had? the dream of that little one? the hope? it's years later and I still miss the other baby I so wanted to have, but husband didn't . . . in a way it comforts me that others feel that way.

Verify your Comment

Previewing your Comment

This is only a preview. Your comment has not yet been posted.

Your comment could not be posted. Error type:
Your comment has been posted. Post another comment

The letters and numbers you entered did not match the image. Please try again.

As a final step before posting your comment, enter the letters and numbers you see in the image below. This prevents automated programs from posting comments.

Having trouble reading this image? View an alternate.


Post a comment

Your Information

(Name and email address are required. Email address will not be displayed with the comment.)

My Photo

January 2021

Sun Mon Tue Wed Thu Fri Sat
          1 2
3 4 5 6 7 8 9
10 11 12 13 14 15 16
17 18 19 20 21 22 23
24 25 26 27 28 29 30