A/N: Five years ago last week I gave birth to a stillborn child. I know this topic may be upsetting or touchy for some, and that is not my intention. I wanted to honor my daughter in the only way I know how, and I hope that you, my reader, enjoy my story. Thank you.
She held her daughter's tiny hand for the first time, and for what would be the last time. Kimberly and her husband Frank had wanted this child for so long, only to find out it was not meant to be. Sierra was at home now, home with the angels, and all Kimberly knew how to do was to sing.
"Hush little baby don't say a word. Mama's going to buy you a mocking bird," she cooed as softly as she could. Her voice wasn't normally a strong one, but to Frank it was the most heavenly sound that he'd ever heard.
"If that mockingbird won't sing, Mama's going to buy you a…." the words were trying to form, but nothing would come out. Instead, Kimberly broke down in tears. Frank held his wife back as the doctor gently took Sierra from her loving arms, and then disappeared into the cold bitter night. Frank didn't know what to say. He knew that he was the man and was supposed to be strong, but how could he be strong in the face of utter heartbreak? Despair, darkness, and hopelessness- those were the words forming in Frank's mind, but he couldn't bring himself to say them out loud.
Kimberly sobbed and rocked herself back and forth until she finally fell asleep in her husband's arms. She didn't care if she woke up, and was disturbed to find that her temperature was now being taken by a nurse, and Frank was gone.
"Where am I?" Kimberly muttered.
"It's okay," the nurse smiled warmly. "You're safe now. You're in the hospital, and we won't let anything happen to you. You just take it easy and if there's anything I can do for you, let me know. By the way, my name is Monica. May I call you Kimberly?"
"I don't care. Call me whatever you want. Names don't mean anything. My baby had a name, that's all she had. My baby…is she…?"
Monica frowned then nodded. "I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do for you?"
"You can bring me my daughter back." With that, Kimberly rolled over and drifted back into a restless slumber.
Monica wasn't sure what she should say. Suddenly, two of her peers appeared before her, Tess and Andrew.
Andrew had the most unenviable task that Monica could think of to that day. "Andrew. Tess," Monica sighed. "I'm glad to see you. This assignment…I don't think I can do this anymore," she cried out as she watched Kimberly toss and turn in her sleep.
"Come on now, Angel Girl. You know we're right here with you. God is with you and has plans for you in helping the Jacksons. Now is not the time to mourn. It is time to show your strength of characters, don't be afraid of letting your weaknesses show, and most importantly, have faith. Our Father might have had other plans for this little one, but His work is not over with yet. You are needed, and Andrew and I will be right here with you to hold your hand," Tess hugged her mentee.
"Andrew…the baby…is she all right? Is she safe now?"
"Yes, Monica. She's in a better place and will never know the pain that the Earth can bring. She's with our Father. But I'm afraid that Tess is right. Kimberly needs you. I know this is difficult- I did not want to be there with Sierra, but it was the right thing for me to do. Just like the right thing for you to do is to be there for Kimberly and Frank. They may not realize it yet, but they are going to need you in the days to come."
Monica wiped her eyes, then gently wiped down Kimberly's matted forehead with a cool cloth, moving the stray hairs aside. She then began to pray, pray for the courage she knew that she would need.