Everyone has their routines in the morning. Mine usually consists of: wake up, grab iPhone and check email, Twitter, Facebook and blogs (in that order), shower, get dressed…etc. And right in the middle of all that, when I’m debating which t-shirt to throw on, I see them. Our two infant urns. Micah and Judah. A daily reminder.
A daily reminder of what could have been.
A daily reminder that sometimes life sucks.
A daily reminder of the way-too-short lives of our boys.
A daily reminder that I am a father of two boys, none living.
A daily reminder of the tiny, precious bodies of Micah and Judah.
A daily reminder that I was able to hold my sons, to feel their tiny little bodies pulse as they struggled to breathe for the hour that they lived.
Sometimes it feels like I can go throughout my day thinking that life is pretty normal, that things are going pretty good and then fall asleep at night. But each morning I see those two urns. Each morning I am reminded. Sometimes it’s just a quick reminder, a brief moment to remember Micah and Judah. Other mornings, it makes me pause a little longer. To say a quick prayer. To sit with that love that is in my heart for children that were born and then lost too soon.