I awaken to her early morning cries. I slowly crawl out of bed, and pick her up. I kiss her forehead and lay her on the changing table. I change her diaper as she squirms. I zip her sleeper back up and scoop her into my arms. We head over to the rocking chair. I realize how big she’s getting; her body and legs cross over me and her little feet slide through the hole under the armrest. She plays with my hair as she nurses. I wonder what she’s thinking about…
Is my fantasy realistic? How would I know?
Is it healthy to fantasize about how things would’ve been? I don’t know that either. But sometimes I do let myself indulge in the sweet “what ifs”.
Maybe it would be better to fantasize about heaven…
I see her loved and warm in Jesus’s arms.
I see her being rocked to sleep by my PopPop or Daniel’s Grandma Ginny.
I see her dancing with an angel. I know she’s playful.
Is she a baby in heaven? Will she grow up? Or is she an ageless being?
I think she’ll greet me when I die. I imagine recognizing her right away in light and hugging her so hard.
Is heaven somewhere else? Is heaven here? Can she hear me or see me or feel me? I just want her to know I love her. I pray and ask Jesus to let her know. Maybe she already does. I hope she knows her daddy and me and how much we love and miss her.
I remember being pregnant with her and talking to her. I told her, “We love you, Ginny! Mommy and Daddy love you so much.” I could barely get the words out through tears. I couldn’t contain my love. I was so happy. I fantasized about holding her and taking care of her then too. I asked Daniel, “Can you believe that in 3 months we will have a one-month old?!” We laughed at each other with wide eyes.
Sometimes it feels like I’m still pregnant with her, like we are still waiting. I’m still fantasizing. I’m still hoping she feels my love.
She is getting older in my fantasies though. She’d be 8 months old if she was born on her birthday, and she would be almost 7 months old if she was born on her due date. Would she be sitting up on her own? Would she be eating food; would she like avocados, bananas, mashed potatoes? Would we have taken her for her first road trip to the ocean or the mountains? We’d push a stroller on our walks. She’d be there with us watching OU football and picking out pumpkins. I’d be thinking about what to get her for Christmas and choosing a “baby’s first Christmas” ornament….
Back to reality — How wonderful that she gets to celebrate her first Christmas with Jesus! She probably has a better understanding of the salvation and glory of Christ than we do. That thought does comfort me, but we will still have an empty stocking.
Will my mind always drift in and out of two realities? – the would’ve been and the actually is. Maybe one day the two will meet when Ginny and I are reunited.