I was supposed to be holding him and snuggling him sometime in the near future.
He was going to grow big and strong alongside Stone.
They would be raised as twins and get into all kinds of trouble together.
I couldn't wait for it.
I was prepared for the crazy.
The pillow fights.
The screaming matches.
I was prepared. Our suitcase were bought, the car seat was ready.
I'd gotten used to saying my three boys, and delighting in the sound of it.
I might not of ever held him in my arms, but I held him in my heart, every second of each new day.
He was with me as I did the errands and answered emails.
He was missing from our family pictures.
I kept June and July open, waiting for the call to come in.
I spent hours thinking. Hoping. Praying.
Ever present, talked about daily.
Imagining his dark brown eyes like Finley's.
Folding Stone's outgrown newborn clothes and setting aside for use in a few more weeks.
We were ready.
He had a name. He had brothers. He had a crib his very own.
The day before we got the call I bought him his very own pair of moccasins. As brothers they would share everything, I knew that. But sometimes each needs their own special thing that is just theirs. The moccasins I bought were for him and only him. I couldn't wait to put them on his little feet. I couldn't wait to speak his name out loud.
And then one Tuesday last month I woke up to a missed call on my phone and Ryan coming home from work early. And just like that I went back to being a mama of two boys.
We weren't a family of five anymore and Stone no longer has a twin.
It's been over two weeks now and I still can't bare to tell Finley.
He still asks me every day when we get to go get two babies.
I don't tell him that two babies has already been born but for some reason he is not ours.
He had a name. He had brothers. He had a crib his very own, and he will forever be missed.