You're missing

A year ago, I started to wonder.  The missed period, the fatigue, the nausea every morning...I knew the signs.  Didn't really believe them, because I had a tubal, and who gets pregnant after a tubal?  It took me almost 4 weeks to take a pregnancy test...and then only by Aaron's urging.  Now, a year has passed.  A year you've spent in heaven, my little second son.  For almost a year now, we've mourned you.  Missed your nursing, and your night wakings, and the diapers, and unpacking the baby clothes...missed getting to know your personality, your own little quirks.  We've wondered if you'd have loved trains like Caleb.  We've thought about how different our lives would be with you in them.


Today your Papa rolled a big stone up into Echo Woods onto your grave.  His legs still hurt tonight from the effort.  It is a big granite stone, about a cubic foot of rock.  Heavy.  I am going to try to chisel your name into the rock without chipping it.  Theodore Thul.  We'll see how that goes...it's my first attempt.  Two weeks from now, we'll celebrate another anniversary: the last day Amelia was completely healthy.

This time of year, it's a time of sorrow.  The falling leaves, the death of the living plants - it seems appropriate.  A visual reminder of laying to rest, in the damp earth, a son we never held.  Of burying dreams for a daughter's future.  Of laying down expectations of what our life on this earth will be like.

We mourn it.

We celebrate it.

We thank God for you, dancing in heaven.

We thank God for Amelia still dancing on earth.

We wait for the day we all dance together on the streets of gold.

Your house is waiting
For you to walk in
But you're missing, when I shut out the lights
You're missing, when I close my eyes
You're missing, when I see the sun rise
You're missing
~ Bruce Springsteen ~