Mourning My Angel Babies

1923900_21275632638_9522_nI’ve spent the last 3 days hanging out with two young boys while their parents did a mini vacation to NYC. I’ve been cooking, playing, keeping the house clean, driving them to soccer, the grocery store and pumpkin patch hunting. They’ve had friends over for play dates, one has crawled into bed with me, we’ve watched movies, made cookies, played tag, had a race around the house for the last french-fry and discussed what it means to be generous. All in all, a pretty amazing weekend. And I like to believe they feel the same way.

Something quite unexpected is happening right along side of all the fun and games. I’m getting access to mourning the children that I wasn’t able to have. The two girls and the boy that didn’t make it far enough along in my womb to awaken in this world. For a very long time in my life I thought of them daily. Each month for many years I hoped and prayed that my body would be given another chance to carry a child to term. Each month I would walk around in a state of grief while my moon cycle ran through my body, carrying with it my tears.

When the doctors finally made it clear that I simply wasn’t destined to have children in this lifetime I was able to find peace. I was able to forgive myself and my body, to move past the hurt and disappointment and instead celebrate all of the children my journey in this lifetime has brought to me. Still, some day’s I wonder what my life would have been like if even one had survived.

I think about where we would be living right now. If I’d be married to my child’s father. Would they be petite like me or towering over me like their Dad? They would be 29, 27 and 26 right now. Adults and living their own lives. I like to think they’d be loving, kind people. Compassionate and full of grace. I’d wish for them to be surrounded by people that love and cherish them; the village that helped raise them. We would be able to look back and laugh at all the crazy risk they took in their teen years and how adorable they were as little ones. We’d cry over broken hearts together and spend time planning and dreaming of their futures.

Yes, this is an idealistic view, one that doesn’t account for tragedy or separation. One that leaves out the possibility that something so drastic had happened that they didn’t speak to each other or had fallen into the trap of drugs or an abusive relationship. But I’m keeping my beautiful thoughts. I deserve them and so do they.

I believe that these souls have been born into this world and sometimes wonder if we’ve met. There have been times when I’ve come across a child that seems so familiar, known to me somehow. We’ve connected instantly and deeply, however brief the time. It always leaves me with a rush of joy and an expanded heart.

And so these last few days have brought another opportunity to know myself deeper. The chance to once again sink into and allow grief to flow through me leaving room for an expanded heart. Leaving room for more love.

Each of these three angel souls has a piece of my heart and always will. They gave me a gift that is beyond measure. They showed me love in its purest form and grief at its deepest level. Forever, I am grateful.

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