My grandmother, Geraldine Ruth Woodbridge (eternal be her memory), whose youngest child died as a young girl on Easter Sunday in the mid-1950s, wrote the following for someone (we don't know for whom) who must have suffered the loss of a child, as well. She then published it in a lenten collection of writings from members of Aldersgate Methodist Church in Tulsa, OK. I do hope it speaks how I can't to baby Fergus' family and to baby Jamie's. Forgive me, as the note is in her handwriting, and one part I was unable to read completely clearly.
"Words will never express or help at this time, but there are some of us who have been along this pathway and do understand.
"The long days of hope and despair. The day-to-day clinging and releasing of our loved one.
"We go through the gamut of prayers, first for miracles, then strength to get through each day, each month, each year; next comes prayers for ___ pain of pain, and finally, 'Thy will be done.'
"Still the grief is there so much more than you thought possible after praying 'Thy will be done' for so long. Do not let anyone tell you "Time heals all wounds." It doesn't. All it does is give you time to live with it and with God's strength and love you go on living for the living and believing God had a plan for taking them. You see, I do understand, as I have also lost a child."