I've been mentally writing this post for weeks.
That's how I blog. I ponder for hours. Or days. Sometimes it might be longer- weeks or months. Some of the posts come as a stream of consciousness, but, generally, the ones I like best are the ones I ponder. I have a series of blog posts waiting for me to hit "publish post." For whatever reason, I've been unwilling to publish them.
|Photo credits to Mandy Daniel (First Moments Photography)|
What do you see when you look at these pictures? I love pictures of my kids looking away from the camera. I'm not sure why. I know part of it is because I love that they are walking into life together. Recently, though, I've seen something else. I've seen the step I'm missing in my stair-step kids.
Three years ago tomorrow (and know that I'll never post this thread on the actual anniversary- that date is too important to me for another reason to forever saddle it with this), I miscarried our son. Just 30 hours previously- on a Saturday- I learned he had already been in eternity for some amount of time. I will never forget that weekend. The series of events that Sunday so completely prove to me the existence of a Loving God with a perfect plan that I will forever hold them close to my heart.
I'll share them with anyone who wants to hear, but I won't just throw them into cyberspace. They're too precious.
I think those who were with us during the following week will tell you that we "handled it well." That I wasn't "too emotional." And while that's not completely true, it is mostly accurate. I didn't fall apart, but not because I was strong, but because God was SO present. There are no words to describe His closeness during that time. That's why we are given eternity to discover Him. And praise Him.
And our life, now completely changed, continued.
Recently, however, I've been really missing my child. (And he has a name because he's my child, and children have names.) I'm not sure why the waves of pain have been a little stronger recently than they have been for years, but the last 6 months or so have been harder than I anticipated.
Today, we went to the swimming pool. The kids were all playing, and we were having a great time. A little boy whom we had met on Christmas was there. He is stinkin' cute and super spunky. Carson had brought a ball down to the pool so the two boys started playing. I didn't think anything of it, other than I was glad Carson was playing nicely with the little guy. I overheard Carson, the child, and the mom chatting. Again, I didn't give it much thought. To be within 5 feet of Carson means you will be in a conversation with him. Carson asked him how old he was. He said, in a thick British accent, 2. The little boy's mom told Carson that his birthday was in March. This, of course, made Carson quite pleased because his birthday is also in March.
They figured out that the little guy would be turning 3 just 6 days after Carson turns 8. I thought it was a neat thing. And then, as I was standing in the shallow end, it struck me. This little guy is just 2.5 months older than Carson's little brother would have been. I smiled. And sat down. And watched them play together. It felt like God allowed me a glimpse in "what might have been." I was overcome by the sweetness of the moment.
Just a few minutes later, Tony let me know our food had arrived. I told Carson to say good-bye and come have lunch. He did as I asked, came to the table, kissed Coralynn Mae, and started eating. No, I don't have two sons sharing a room and playing basketball games together. No, I wouldn't have picked for my second son's life to be a mere 15 gestational weeks. Yes, I would take my baby back in a heartbeat if the Lord chose to make that a miraculous possibility. But, I look at my Coralynn Mae and know that my family is whole. Complete. And I praise God for His perfect plan.
For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.
Happy Anniversary, Cavin!
I miss you desperately
and love you deeply!