I am bringing this little guy home tomorrow.
I am incredibly excited.
I can’t wait to see Rick and the other three boys in the morning. I can’t wait to embrace them all in my arms. I can’t wait to ask Angus what he’s been learning on the computer. I can’t wait to offer Pete a cookie, because I know he’ll be hungry as soon as he sees me. I can’t wait to ruffle Jamie’s hair and call him “a big boy.” I can’t wait for them to rush over to Edward with their hugs and kisses. I can’t wait to leave the hospital with all four boys in tow. I can’t wait to strap them into our Land Rover, climb into the front and look back at the four of them and smile. I can’t wait to hug Rick in the car. I can’t wait to arrive home, and begin our life together as a family of six. I can’t wait to start being a mother to four boys.
And yet, even as I write this with my heart full of joy, there are tears streaming down because I know there is something missing.
There is always someone missing.
Cameron is always missing.
If only he weren’t, there would be four boys walking down the corridor tomorrow morning. There would be four boys rushing over to little baby Edward. There would be five boys leaving the hospital with us. Five boys seated in the Land Rover. Five boys when we arrived home. We would begin life as a family of seven, not six. And I would be a mother to five boys, not four.
I do not mind these tears. On the contrary, I cherish them.
They are proof of my love for Cameron. They are proof of the life that he lived.
They are proof that I am a mother of five boys, not four. I became a mother because of Cameron, after all.
And so, tomorrow I am bringing little Edward home.
And I am excited. Yet I am also sad.
But even though I do not get to mother five boys as I yearn to do, I am thankful for the four whom God has entrusted to us.
Tomorrow, a new life begins, and I shall embrace it and I shall cherish it. And every day, I shall remember how blessed I am – even with one missing.