I've had this date in the back of my mind, tucked away with the "If only's" and the "What if's".
Today was Josiah's due date.
And even though I'm not big on the whole "due date" thing, (since less than 10% of babies come on their "expected" date), today is still a reminder of who we don't have in our arms. Of what we lost. Of what we expected March to be like.
Overall, we are doing better each day. But we still have moments (and will always have them) of looking at our two babes here on earth and wondering what it would have been like with three. What sorts of trouble would the two brothers, only 20 months apart in age, have gotten into? How many "I want to hold him now!" fights would I be breaking up each day? Would Danae be sitting next to me, nursing her dolls, just as she did when Caedon was born? And how I miss that sweet, completely distinctive smell of a newborn that doesn't seem to fade until they are at least six months old.
While we celebrate the fact that our Josiah is with Jesus, we still miss him everyday. That doesn't ever go away. Today we remember the 32 weeks I was blessed to hold my son, and we look forward to holding him again someday in Heaven.