I'll probably receive a slew of automated "Congratulations" from all the websites I made registries on. And it will sting -- just like all the reminders I've gotten to buy a stroller, or the samples of formula I've found waiting in our mailbox. These companies don't know that we met you months ago.. or that we already had to say good-bye.
And we're going to spend this day moving into our new home. A home you were supposed to be raised in -- with a nursery that was supposed to be yours. I know exactly where the cribs would have gone. I can picture you both in the bathtub splashing around right before bedtime. I can imagine you playing in the back yard. I can hear your laughter (and fighting) as you chase each other up and down the hallway. I will always feel your life in this place.
But the best I can do today, is to move your ashes there. To place them on the mantle above the brick fireplace. So I may ache, and I may cry, but I will be happy for one thing. --- That even though you didn't arrive into the world today, you will be coming home.
