It doesn’t happen that often anymore. The wave of sadness. That one where you feel like you can’t swallow and all the weight of the world is pushing down on your lungs. Time has built a gap between the sadness and me. But a few days ago, I felt it. I was in the car with Lincoln and Gracelyn, on our way to pick up Isabella from kindergarten, I drove just listening to the sweet conversation between the two and it’s as though my heart remembered those little boy voices that I don’t hear in my car. Because we lost them. Eight years ago today, we welcomed our Joshua Paul and Kaleb Stephen into the world and let them go the next day. And it makes my heart hurt. That feeling you get when you can’t swallow.
I read a book several months ago called The Forgotten Garden by Kate Morton. And there was a quote in it that really spoke to me. Mostly because it took a lot of difficult choices in my own heart and mind to get there.
“You make a life out of what you have, not what you are missing.”
I am missing something. I don’t have our two identical twin boys. The two of the same that I wanted since I was a little girl. I don’t get to dress them in little matching bow ties. I don’t have their drawings on my fridge. I don’t get two little boys’ kisses and hugs. I don’t get to hold their little boy hands and rock them to sleep at night.
What I do have is a scar on my heart that will always be there, and also a beautiful life that Paul and I have built together, despite the two identical boys we are missing.
So today, we pack up a picnic with homemade cupcakes and go celebrate the short little lives of two sweet boys with what we have. Isabella Hope who calls me mama. Gracelyn Michelle who gives me hugs and kisses all day long. Lincoln Isaiah who let’s me chase him to make him laugh. Our family. Blessings beyond measure.