On Easter morning we snuck the small crew away to breakfast. We had news--by Christmas there would be four of them. They joined us in bursting with excitement.
Two weeks later the conversation changed. Sometimes babies go to heaven before we get to meet them. It was a long, hard weekend on an unfamiliar path.
It's amazing how in just two weeks a tiny, little growing person who you've never met can capture your heart. Names, room arrangements, van seating assignments, holiday plans, foods to eat and to avoid, apps with daily updates, boy or girl, countless thoughts a day wandering to a new life blossoming with the spring. And then a hundred goodbyes.
With a healing body and heart, I am so mindful of the miracle of life. I am so very overwhelmed by the goodness of the extravagant gifts I get to watch grow every day. And evermore thankful for the Hope of Heaven.