*I feel like I haven't had anything to say the past several weeks. Really, this is the subject that has been consuming my thoughts, and I wasn't sure (still not) if I wanted to/was ready to share. Not trying to be a tearjerker here, just trying to keep it real. This is all about the Business of Being Broussards, after all.*
Dear Little One,
I miss you. Some days worse than others, and this weekend has been some of those worse days. Not sure if it's because of Easter, and thinking about God willingly giving up his child for me. Or maybe because you recently had a precious little friend join you in heaven, but either way it's been a little tougher here lately.
I miss what you were going to be, miss my growing belly, those sweet little flutters from the inside, the excuse to eat, the glow of new life. Your pregnancy was due almost exactly 3 years after Audrey's pregnancy was due, so that makes it easier to keep up with the pregnancy milestones, and harder to forget what should be happening in our lives right now. My throat is tight thinking about how I should by now either be pulling out Audrey's baby clothes for another sweet little girl, or wondering how I would manage 2 little boys, 17 mos apart in age.
Instead, the Lord saw fit to let you enter heaven before you entered earth. Your Daddy and I were talking about this today. I said, "I know God allows trials to further show his glory. But why does it have to hurt so much?" He wisely answered, "Sometimes diamonds require a lot of pressure in the process of refinement." Then we talked about relationships in heaven. Like, will we know each other as mother and child? Will you and your siblings run to each other to play? Are you being loved on by your cousin and your aunt? What about your great-grandmas, are they taking care of you? Right now, I need to think so. Even though, as your Daddy again wisely said, "When we get to heaven, in the presence of Jesus, will it matter?" Of course not; nothing will compare to meeting Jesus. But it comforts me here on earth to think about snuggling you, my sweet baby once I get to heaven.
Little One, I know that you're in the best place of all right now, and that you couldn't be better off, even if you were in my arms. I thank God for the short time that I got to carry you in my belly, and try not to think too much about what I missed with you. After all, none of us is promised more than today. For now, I just have the hope of more siblings for you, and the future joy of meeting you in the presence of Jesus.
I love you so much, Little One.