I was thinking today how different our lives would be right now had our daughter lived. We would surely have bags under our eyes from lack of sleep. The washing machine and dryer going non-stop. Wee clothing and blankets waiting to be folded. Our home the proverbial wreck. But also a small wonder with tiny features to admire. Love keeping us going through our fatigue.
Her name was going to be Sarah.
For whatever reason her life on earth was short. But long enough for us to love, plan, and hope for her. She would have been a couple of weeks old by now. I wonder what she would have looked like. Would she have my blue eyes or Brandon's green? If she had any hair at all, would it be golden curls? Would we already be able to discern family resemblance?
The pain, the loss are not so raw anymore, my sadness is in not having the chance to meet her. Hardly a day goes by that I don't think of her. I know she is in heaven, I imagine my great-grandmother, my relatives who have gone before, walking with her. When my time comes I will meet her and I will recognize my baby girl.
I don't understand why after the mental fatigue of years of trying she was taken away too soon. I don't understand why we were given the hope of her coming into our lives only to have the hope ripped away in a crushing blow.
I will never understand, but I also know she is where she is supposed to be. I have comfort in knowing she will never feel any pain, only knowing paradise beyond measure. And she knows the loving arms of her creator.
We may never be blessed with any other children but we will always be her mother and father.