I have always been a “baby person”, I loved good smelling, soft skinned, cooing, crying, spitting up babies. I didn’t care if they were mine, a friend’s or a stranger’s I just loved me some babies, until I became unable to have my own babies. Wow, nothing like speaking the truth.
Before having Baby James, Carl and I had a miscarriage. It only took those two tries and my age for me to get the message having babies just wasn’t in the picture. It was also around this time that I felt the whole world was pregnant.
I avoided baby showers, baby sections at the store, skipped the diaper aisle at Kroger, quit rubbing pregnant bellies. Don’t get me wrong I did not begrudge anyone a healthy baby, I just didn’t understand why I couldn’t have one.
I’m not sure when the turning point was but I remember being excited about an upcoming baby shower and making a pre-made scrapbook as a gift. Making that gift was so much fun, no sadness. The baby shower was a blast, no sadness.
Then I started “baby holding” at church, no sadness. I knew my heart was healing.
Yesterday I held a little tiny newborn and not one time did I think back to the hospital and holding Baby James, my heart was overjoyed at the wonder of those little hands and feet. I loved hearing the stories from a new mom that is just overwhelmed at the love in her heart. The thinker in me though had to smile at the irony, that my little guy that was only here for 52 minutes taught me so much about appreciating life.
I look at the above picture and it’s such a reminder of how tiny Baby James was, I see Emily’s hurt on her face and I think about all the things that were suppose to be that just weren’t and I miss my baby boy today as much as I did four years ago, but my heart is healing and it feels good.