In the days after I lost my Teddy Graham, I lamented the fact that I would never get to hold “him” in my arms. It weighed heavily on me. I cried over it because doesn’t every baby, however small, deserve to be held by somebody just once?
When I realized that I had held him in the palm of my hand after my body had released him and passed him through (sorry, trying not to be overly graphic here), it eased some of the pain I felt for him. I had indeed held my child briefly and I believe I will do so again, one day when I have passed on to an eternal sort of life. But knowing this does not ease the ache of my arms.
Today, as with every day since my loss, I am longing for the weight of a newborn to fill these empty arms. Today, as much as every other day, I am wishing and praying that our next child will fill this longing someday soonish. And today, more than most days, I am waiting for this child, and hoping (s)he is already on his/her way.