Tears In my coffee

It strikes at the most unexpected moments. That pang in your gut when you want so badly to bring the children you have lost back to life…bring them to your breakfast table…yet you know it can’t happen. At least not yet.

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The lump in my throat. The tightness in my breath.

Selfishly I just want to hold them. I want to whisper in their tiny ears, “Mommy and Daddy love you so much.” To comfort them when they cry. To inhale the scent of their soft skin. To study their perfect and unique little faces.

This morning I had one of these moments.

It has been two years since our last miscarriage. Two sweet years of healing and resting. But not absent of longing.

As I sipped my black coffee, this was my thought progression. “Wow, Coleton and Annabelle are really sleeping in today! Thank you, Lord for the rain! But strangely I want to go get them up; they’re so sweet in the morning.”

That’s when the bag of bricks hit me from out of the blue.

I will never get to lift the babies we lost out of their cribs in the morning. I will never get to see their sleepy morning eyes. Never get to see their excited, dry smile as they jump up and down with a huge poofy diaper, so excited to start a new day.

I mean, maybe in heaven. But will they be babies? How old are babies who died in heaven? Surely they aren’t still preemies. Surely they are full and complete, whole and well. Happy and healthy. Jumping for joy in the most wonderful of ways.

It will someday be perfect, I know. My heavenly home is bursting at the seams with laughter and curls and children everywhere!

My six littles aren’t missing out on a thing, but I am.

I’m so grateful that they were spared pain and tears and every ounce of suffering, but I wasn’t.

So this morning, there are tears in my coffee.

Does this happen to anyone else? When did it hit you?

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11 thoughts on “Tears In my coffee

  1. In a very different way, I totally get it. LOSS is heartbreaking and then when it comes back when we aren’t expecting it, it can take our breath away. I’m convinced that it’s part of our healing and I’m grateful for Jesus’ love for you in that way this morning. Love you, Liv!

  2. It happened for me one day I was looking for something in an old journal so I grabbed it and stood in the kitchen while the kids are lunch and I forgot our only ultrasound picture was there. When I saw it, the picture felt like it might as well have been a picture I snapped of any of the other kids. It didn’t feel at all like an ultrasound picture it felt like I was just looking at the child I missed out on. Praying for you today friend.

    1. Agh. Yes…those ultrasound pics are like a time portal. So beautiful, yet not enough. Makes me long for more of that child. ❤ Thanks for your prayers, Katy!

  3. I had the same thing happen to me this morning. I lost twins almost three years ago and most days I am ok but today I cried for them this morning. We are now blessed with two awesome kids but that doesn’t heal the hole the twins left me no matter how hard I try. #tearsinmycereal

    1. I’m so sorry for the loss of your twins, Kahla. The thought of “what would they be like today” is just sad :/ It always will be. So thankful you have been blessed with two other littles as well. We will never take them for granted…but neither will we ever stop missing the ones we lost!! ❤ *hugs* sister!

  4. The pain never goes away, it just get’s more bearable over time. Praying God’s peace & comfort for you and all the other families out there that have suffered this tragic loss!

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