A cruel turn of the weather makes it happen. The changing of the seasons that brings the changing of the clothes. And beautiful baby boy clothes left for too long in drawers, now too small for anyone, must be put away. Because there won't be a baby to wear them this April.
Life after miscarriage
As I fold them, I remember. The sounds my little ones made. The way they looked and how snuggly they were in certain outfits. I can almost feel their chubby arms and legs in my arms...smell their sweet heads as they rest on my shoulder.
In fleeting moment, another pair of chubby arms and legs fills my arms...a shadowy face. I drink in its warmth, hold the onesie close and breath it in, close my eyes and see the little one who made it to Jesus before me.
But would I trade it all for heaven?
Every laugh, giggle, wrinkled nose?
Every mouth wide open in wonder?
Every cupcake smeared all over?
Every story told over and over?
Every prayer prayed from innocent love?
Every time we'll make up?
Every noise that makes him him?
Every hug cause mama's near?
And everything in between?
Would I trade it all for heaven? To know you safe at home? To know that you'll never know a day apart from Jesus? To know that I'll never stay up late worrying over you? To know that you'll never be hurt? Never have an accident? Never need mama to sing over you, for the angels sing the music of heaven.
Would I trade all of the things I ponder in my heart, hold close to me about what your life would've been? Would I trade knowing your laugh and watching you grow to have you safe for eternity? Would I trade knowing you?
Trade it all for heaven?
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