September 13th. A day I never would have suspected would have meaning for me. In the in-between...not summer, not fall. Not hot, not cold. A time for changes in the trees, the grass. The geese fly, the leaves turn.
A day my baby boy would have been due.
January 26th, 2009. It seems just yesterday I lost him. It seems forever ago. The pain recedes and returns, never with the brutal nightmarish quality of the first few days, but still there. It's a wound. An injury I will always favor. But one that has made me a much fuller person, more commited to what is important. I miss him, I think of him....but I also let him go willingly.
January 30th, 2009. I was an emotional and physical train wreck. Bleeding, mourning, vowing to never ever try for another child.
January 30th, 2010. The day I am due this pregnancy. Due with my son. My Samuel.
I want to say so much about this past year. I want to tell you of how I have grown, how I have leaned into God. But I can't put it into words. It simply is. It is all as it was supposed to be. I no longer linger in disappointment or anger. Without losing Joshua, I would not have Samuel. I want them both, but it's not possible. So I will love the one I have been given twice over. I will know death holds no sadness, no fear for me. When I die, I will see my lost boy. While I am here, I will give everything I am to the one I get to hold.
But I will still remember. The day I watch Samuel walk the first time. The day he gets his first tooth. The day he says mama. The first day of school. In all times, in all ways, I will carry Joshua with me. He may never sit at the table, never snuggle in for a book and prayer before bed. But he will never be forgotten.
I can't prove to anyone that God exists. I can't say anything to make you believe.
I can only offer you this. I conceived Joshua on Christmas Eve. After I lost him, my heartbreak was like a living thing. I stepped out onto God's grace, and trusted Him to help me become a mother again.
He did not fail me.
Samuel was conceived on Mother's Day.
