I thought of you today. Your voice wasn't among the childish shouts of "Happy Mother's Day, Mama" that greeted me when I came downstairs this morning. Your name wasn't on the cards I received. I didn't get to hug or kiss you, but I thought of you.
I would have been showing by now, wearing maternity clothes and watching my belly grow. I would have been feeling your little hands and feet move inside of me. I would have been praying for you and wondering what it would be like when I finally got to hold you.
Mother's Day this year just wasn't the same.
Your big sister and oldest brother stayed home from church this morning. They were sick, and Daddy stayed home to take care of them. After taking Arden to his class, I went to the church service, and I thought of you.
At home I changed diapers and read stories. I ate a wonderful meal that your Daddy made for us. I gave medicine and hugs, and I thought of you.
I took a long nap. I'm sure I would have done that if you were still alive inside of me, too. Babies always make me tired. :-) When I woke, I thought of you.
Four months ago today I was in the hospital, thinking of you, thinking of nothing but you. I cried when I lost you, even though I knew you were going to heaven to be with Jesus. I made it through the next few weeks, thinking of you.
And my heart began to heal. I went for days before I remembered that I should have been pregnant. Then something would remind me, and I would think of you and shed some tears for you.
Life is full, and life is sweet, and I cherish the gifts God has given me. I spend almost all of my time taking care of my most precious gifts: your Daddy, Charis, Tobin, and Arden. And sometimes, I'm so busy doing what needs to be done at That Moment...that I forget. I feel happy, blessed. I actually forget that not so very long ago I was anticipating the gift of YOU. Not so very long ago, I was wondering where we would fit a crib for you in this house that already holds 5 people.
And now we are preparing to move into a new house, a house that would have been plenty big for a baby. And I think of you.
Your sister asks if we can get a baby brother or sister, and I think of you.
I hold up baby clothes and items, wondering what to keep and what to give away, and I think of you.
I lie awake at night, listening to your Daddy breathing deeply, and I think of you.
Tonight, I am thinking of you.