A dear friend's heart-breaking loss has me thinking about our lost baby. And the changes that have occurred since he was with us.
After Matthew died, I didn't believe I would ever hold my own living baby in my arms. And now I have three of them making my life chaotic, driving me crazy, and filling my home with laughter.
I thought I would feel guilty forever. I thought I should have been able to do something to save him, to take care of him, to keep him safe. I was his mother; that was my job. But over time I have stopped blaming myself, and I truly believe I did everything I could. It was never in my hands to begin with.
I have learned to say—and to believe—that everything happened the best way that it could have. We never had to watch him suffer, but we had him long enough to be able to look into his face. And if ever a person's personality was printed on his face, it was on his.
1 comment:
Hi Amasa--Though I never saw more than a picture of Matthew, you and Lou's devotion have made him as real to me as all of your other children. Thanks for keeping me a part of your "family" even though I stupidly moved so far away.
Suzy
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