For Her

Tonight was probably the night.  I say probably because we are just guessing that tomorrow was the day he was born.  His birthday is one of those assumed truths that we accept as if it is true, knowing that we will never really know for sure.

Was it an unusually cool night, like the one we are having now?  Were you scared? Were you alone?  Did you already know, deep in your soul, that you would not be able to hold him forever?  Or were you hopeful, and full of all those not-yet realized dreams that every waiting mother carries in her heart? I think, but it is only a guess, that you had no idea what lay ahead.  Because how could you?  How could you guess that your tiny little boy was going to be born so sick, fragile, and possibly deaf?

Tonight, while I snuggled close to him and kissed his cheeks as he fell asleep, I thought about you.  He likes to fall asleep that way.  Cheek to cheek.  Eye to eye.  Sometimes he leaves his little hand on my face as if he's checking to make sure I'm still there even after he has closed his eyes.  I lay there thinking that tonight must be a hard night for you.  Here I am, love drunk from this beautiful moment with such a precious little boy, and there you are, wherever you are, missing all of this.

Tomorrow is his birthday and we are going to fill it with as much joy as we can.  His family is coming here from far and wide just to surround him with love.  We are loving him well, I promise.

But birthdays are never just about the person being born.  There is always another person who relives the day again and again in her heart.  I remember the days Camdyn and Charlie were born like they were yesterday.  Always like it was yesterday.  Moments of fear, agony, and joy that are seared into my heart and cannot be erased.  How hard it must be for you, to carry those moments in your heart, to feel the weight of them, to remember him so well.   His birth-day is also your giving-birth-day.

Here is my promise to you: I will carry you in my heart tomorrow and in my prayers I will send Carter's joy back to you....through the air, on the clouds, in the wind.

The ancient ones called this the Ruach, the Breath of God, that moves between us, breathing life and hope and love out from God's own self, onto us.

My prayer for you is this-  that this Ruach Elohim, the Breath of God who is mother and father to us all, who gives us life and sets us free, will whisper in your heart and let you know...he is loved, he is loved, he is loved. (And so are you.)