Sunday, January 12, 2014

A memory that never was

I was laying in my bed tonight just now, not able to sleep. Thinking. Praying.

I was asking the Lord to be close to us, more real to us and that we draw into Him more, worship Him more, love Him more. I prayed for us as we are in the transition of buying a house, as we consider possibly tying for a baby to add to our family, as we serve Him at church and as I keep serving Him through MEND. I prayed for my friends, my friends who have never known loss and those that have. I prayed for Silas. I prayed and prayed.

..and my thoughts drifted...

For some reason my mind thought of our old apartment. The apartment that we lived in during my whole pregnancy with Gideon. The apartment where he was conceived, the apartment where I found out I was pregnant with Gideon (and Silas), the apartment where his nursery would have been. The apartment where I felt him move for the first time and the last time. Our apartment wasn't very special, it was just an apartment. But to me, it held the dreams for my son. For the life we would have had. 

As I was thinking of this, God gave me a memory.

No, not really a memory, because this memory never actually happened.

For a short second I saw the life we would have had. I could feel it in my heart, in my bones, in my soul. It was in the heat of the summer of 2011. It was afternoon and Todd was at work. The lights in the apartment were off, but the sun was coming in through the sliding glass door. I was sitting on our couch in our apartment holding a boppy pillow in my lap. I was nursing a tiny newborn boy. This newborn boy had curly strawberry blonde hair and was the most laid back baby I had ever seen. He had his little fist curled up by his face. His eyes were closed and he was wearing footsie pjs. He was slowly nursing, taking his time, laying against me. I had my legs crossed and my arm cradled around his head and back. I stared into his sweet face.

It felt real. It felt more real than a lot of actual memories I have. I felt pure love. And joy. And happiness. I held in my arms everything I had dreamed of. I was holding my Gideon. And unlike the moments in my real life when I held him, there was no agonizing pain mingled with fierce love.  I didn't have to say goodbye. There as no ache in my heart in this memory because he never left me. He was there, in my arms. Alive and resting near my heart. 

It felt so real. Just for a moment. 

Then it was gone. I couldn't hold onto this image, this not-real memory. 

I am thankful for that. I am sitting here in tears at the beauty of that moment that never happened and never will be. I am thankful that for a short second I got to experience what it would have been like for him to come home with me. Even if it was only in my mind. 

Thank you, Lord. You knew what I needed tonight. You knew that my mommy heart wanted more than anything to have Gideon here with me and that one of the biggest things I missed out on was nursing him. Those quiet moments between mommy and son. Thank You for giving me a tiny piece of that. Though it never happened, I will hold that short day-dream, image, memory (whatever it should be called) in my heart. Father, this brings so much more joy to me than I can express. To see a sliver of what he would have been like, what it would have been like to have him here with me, brings a smile across my lips and a tear to my eye. You know my need when I don't even realize its what I need. You never forget us in our grief and You walk alongside us always. 

Your unfailing love is higher than the heavens. Your faithfulness reaches to the clouds. Psalm 108:4


Patty Eaton said...

You never cease to bring tears to my eyes. Your journey has brought me to a depth of emotional experience I don't generally have. Not sure why. But thank you. Because without your vulnerability I wouldn't connect with my emotions this deeply.

Stormy said...

Wow. Oh thank you. What you said means more to me than I can say. It amazes me how Gideon's life continues to ripple and touch people. Wow.