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Friday, January 6, 2017

Good Morning

From the other room I heard a faint whimper this morning, a little boy was stirring in his crib. He was just waking up in the early morning wanting to be held. This is a big deal for him because he does not always know where he is. His vision is impaired.

I go into his room and pick him up. He immediatly snuggles down into my neck and sighs. The relief of knowing where he is. In the arms of someone familiar. 

He is still a little fussy so we head outside with a fuzzy blanket to spend a moment snuggled in the hammock watching the birds chirp and flutter in the trees above. He fully relaxes and falls back asleep.

I lay there asking God why do I have these moments? How lucky I am to be able to smell the soft head lying on my chest. Yet, how sad it is that these memories do not belong to his parents. How I wish that I could pass them along. Allow them to be able to tell him his story of when he was a baby and how mom held him in the morning because you wanted to be near. To have the joy of remembering what it felt like to be just the two of them lying together, mother and son comforting each other in the morning, being a family.

But, his story is so much more intricate than that. Like a dreamcatcher with all the intricate twists and turns creating a beautiful pattern of his exsitiance. How brave his mother and father are waiting for their little boy. They know that he is out there and that everyday he gets bigger and everyday their heart hurts a little bit more waiting for their little boy to come home.

This is a messy process filled with hurt and loss but it is also an amazing story of beautiful boy who has more people that love him then he could ever know. I may never be able to tell him about the mornings I held him  and he would sleep on my chest wanting to be held, but I hope his mama and papa know he was loved from the start.