Boys

Boys.  For a split second I was pregnant with two baby boys.  There's something deeper in our grief knowing the gender of our babies, and I knew it would make the hurt hurt even more. But it's a part of the grieving process that I needed. 

I needed to know them.

I needed to connect with them in whatever way I could.  Today I got to know my babies a little more, learning they were boys.  I won't ever get to know the color of their hair or the color of their eyes.  Or their favorite food.  Or what makes them laugh.  I won't ever get to hear their voice or their cry.  I won't ever hear them call me "Mommy."  Knowing the gender is all I have.  And I know them more today than I did yesterday.

 

If I close my eyes and picture a different life for us - a life with our arms full of the baby girls we lost the first time and the baby boys we lost this time - I can see our boys.  They would be rough an tumble boys.  Dare devils that stress their mommy out at every turn!  I'll bet they would have loved football like their Daddy.  We would have dressed them from head to toe in Alabama gear and taught them to say, "Roll Tide!"  We would have giggled and wrestled on the living room floor.  Bear would be their fiercest protector and favorite playmate.  They would love to snuggle with their Mommy (or I would have made them snuggle whether they wanted to or not!), and I would kiss them and squeeze them until they couldn't take any more.  

I never knew them, and yet, I miss them.  Your Mommy and Daddy love you and miss you, baby boys.  

Miss you everyday 
Miss you in every way 
But we know there’s a
day when we will hold you 
We will hold you 
You’ll kiss our tears away 
When we’re home to stay 
Can’t wait for the day when we will see you 
We will see you 
But baby let sweet Jesus hold you
‘till mom and dad can hold you… 
You’ll just have heaven before we do 
You’ll just have heaven before we do

"Glory Baby" by Watermark