I am writing this post sitting in the chair in Thomas's nursery with his little owl. Even though he never came home to this room, I feel closer to him in here...probably because I would sit here and talk to him and pray for him when I was pregnant.
I miss Thomas. I miss him so much that it hurts. At times I will be so overcome with grief I will feel lightheaded and short of breath.
If I were to give in to my feelings, I would likely be in bed with the covers over my head for the rest of my life. Instead, I am allowing myself moments to be sad, but am trying to move forward.
I know God made Thomas for a purpose, and gave him to me for a reason.
I also know that He took him away after only 14 days for a purpose.
I don't understand why his life was so short, but I do know I am thankful for those two weeks with Thomas.
I am so grateful that he is healthy in heaven, and is waiting for me there.
It's not going to take away the pain, but the promise of heaven and knowing that my baby is part of a bigger plan make it possible to wake up each day and put one foot in front of the other.
"Hope is symbolized in Christian iconography by an anchor. And what does an anchor do? It keeps the ship on course when wind and waves rage against it. But the anchor of hope is sunk in heaven, not on earth." Gregory Floyd (A Grief Unveiled)
"Faith is to believe what we do not see; the reward of this faith is to see what we believe."