Remnants of Him

We’re approaching the 2 month mark from when we said hello and goodbye to our son. In a lot of ways it seems like, “that’s it?!” Grief has a way of warping time. And even though Sebastian isn’t here in our home, his presence is felt in so much of its fabric. We speak freely of him. There seems to be some spot in every room that is touched by the remnants of our preparation for his arrival and joining our family or a reminder of the brief time we held him in our arms or when he was growing within me. The car seat finally went back out to the garage after sitting in wait – first for my due date, then to be tucked away. The room where he was to be born still has a mostly deflated birth pool as its centerpiece. Our room, where we planned to spend so much of his early life, holds the disassembled co-sleeper, the changing pad and all the cloth diapers, the new diaper bag that doesn’t need to be used, the little yellow outfits that waited to clothe the 5th surprise Wagner.

But each day gets a little easier, too. The tears still come, but not as often. I can see his photos – even the hard ones – and smile because that’s my son! He was here, he was seen, he is known. His life has touched so many. His story has already saved the life of another little girl. Sebastian’s impact on us – and Christ’s rescue of us in His death and resurrection before we ever dreamed we would need it – has helped me reach out to other moms needing that comfort in their own losses.

This little boy has changed my life, probably in ways he wouldn’t have… couldn’t have… had he lived. Even though, of course, we wish we could have had him longer, I’m thankful for the time we had him at all. So very thankful.

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