Baby boy, whom we are referring to as "Kruz" while he is in our home, has been out of the hospital for three weeks. He is making huge progress in his growth and development and is pure, one hundred percent, sweetness. To say that his presence in our life has been disruptive would be a gross understatement. Yet, once again, I am amazed to find that life, regardless of the changes it brings, has a way of settling into a routine and a new normal is always established. So it is with this monumental change. We have adjusted, stretched, and molded him into our lives. Having him here means a little less sleep, earlier mornings, countless doctor's appointments and everyone pitching in a little more. It also means more softness and cuddling, more time spent in awe of the wonder of life, more soaking up the beauty of perfect simplicity, more moments that take our breath away.
This child, so sweet and so incredibly complex, has awakened something in me that I thought was dead, buried with my sweet baby girl. I cannot put a name to it. Healing??? Joy??? Redemption??? Perhaps a combination of all of these. Our days have been hectic and I feel pulled in a million different directions. Yet, in spite of the chaos, this child has brought a quietness to my soul in a way that nothing has been capable of doing since Laynee was taken from us. His soft, warm body fills the aching emptiness of my arms. He brings a smile to my face and joy to my heart. Still, I know that I will never know joy like I knew it before I became mother to a child in heaven. I know that I can never have that joy again on this earth. To have a child in heaven is to hurt in the very depths of who I am, a hurt that has no end, a hurt that is a part of every day, every thought, every breath. This hurt stems from an emptiness that no one and nothing can ever fill; nothing, that is, on this earth. In the meantime, we continue to love.......our children on earth, our child in heaven, and this child who, for now, is in our care.......we love them all and we wait, anxiously, for the the day when we will see her again.