A Gift for Alma

"I'm getting nervous, are you?"

Jayze nodded his head and said, "Yeah, I am." 

Our car plowed ahead in the deep snow. The inside of our car was warm and Aidan was quiet in his car seat. As we drove by the park we saw a few families sledding down the small, steep hills. We stopped at the stop sign, looked both ways, and slowly turned the corner and drove up the small hill to the parking lot. I couldn't help tears coming to my eyes as I thought about my two children who were born there. They were both such different experiences. 

Jayze found a parking spot and climbed out of the car. He walked around and opened the door for me. With another glance at the hospital, I climbed out of the car too. Jayze grabbed the car seat with Aidan in it, and hand-in-hand, we began our trek towards the hospital in the deep snow and icy parking lot. Clenched tightly in my hands, but not so much where it wrinkled the ribbon, was a soft, white, crocheted blanket.

We walked in the main entrance but didn't see anyone there. A man walked in behind us and told us we could register in the emergency section. So, Jayze and I nervously rounded the corner and approached the emergency check-in desk. A woman behind the desk was getting her coat on as she was talking to someone out of our sight. I looked at Jayze and softly murmured, "Do you mind asking?" 

As Jayze wondered how to get the woman's attention, the woman noticed us and asked how she could help us. Jayze and I looked at each other, not sure how to ask our question. Jayze said, "Well, we're just wondering...well we uh, have a blanket that we made...do you guys accept donations? Or, is there a place that we can donate blankets to...that you guys accept blankets for babies...for stillborns...?"

As Jayze was in the middle of asking the question and said "babies," the woman nodded her head and said, "Yes, of course." As Jayze said "stillborn" and handed her the soft, white blanket, a sad look came across her face and she said yes while looking at the blanket and then back at us with a sort of questioning look. Right before we turned to go, the woman said, "This is beautiful, did you make this?"

At this point, I was crying and could only nod my head. Jayze looked at me, saw that I was crying and couldn't answer, and responded while gesturing toward me, "Yes, she made it." 

I turned away to hide my tears and heard her say, "We'll make sure they get it." 

We walked out the door, Jayze still carrying Aidan in the car seat, both of us still walking hand-in-hand, but the white blanket no longer in my arms. 

The tears kept flowing. As we walked back towards our car, Jayze said, "Donating the blanket didn't cause a stillborn to happen. The blanket is there to help someone...to help comfort them like it did us."

When Jayze said that, my mind flashed back to the night before when I finally finished the blanket I started back in August. I had wanted to do something special for Alma's birthday, but couldn't figure out what to do. I thought about all the things that made Alma's birthday special and one thing that kept coming to my mind was the nurse who said, "We're able to give these blankets and mother-child bracelets and necklaces away because people donate them to the hospital." I had taken up crocheting again and thought that donating a crocheted blanket like the one we received in the hospital when Alma was born would be the perfect gift. 

I started on the blanket. The first one turned out awful. I was devastated, but I was also determined to try again. It had to be special. I found a new, easier pattern, unraveled the ugly blanket, and set to work again. That time, the blanket started to turn out. But as I kept crocheting it I realized that I hated working on the blanket. Tears began falling every time I picked it up to continue working on it. I couldn't get it out of my head that this blanket was for another stillborn baby. I kept envisioning another couple going through the pain Jayze and I had to go through and it just broke my heart every single time. I didn't want to bear the burden of losing a child again...even if the child wasn't mine. Right before I tied off the last stitch, I folded the blanket up and stuffed it in my closet. Alma's birthday came and went and the blanket remained untouched, but unforgotten. 

As Christmas came closer and closer, I wondered what I could give Alma. He would be 16 months old. I couldn't buy him a toy because he's not here to play with it. I kept mulling it over in my mind but couldn't think of anything to give him. One day, the white, crocheted blanket came to my mind. Once again, I thought it would be the perfect gift for Alma. 

I told Jayze my plan, and he thought it was a great idea. Last night, I finally brought myself to pull out the blanket from my closet and finish the last stitch. I laid out the finished blanket across my lap, envisioned a baby inside it, and wished with all my heart it was meant for a live baby. But the thought also came to my mind of how grateful I was for the donated blanket Alma was wrapped in. Once again, grief brought me closer to my baby Alma. 

Walking away from the hospital this Christmas day reminded me of another baby lying in a manger wrapped in a blanket. In that moment, I remembered that because of that baby, I can see my baby again. Because of my Savior Jesus Christ, my family can be together forever. 

And we will be.

And that really is the perfect gift.