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I saw your face for just a moment before the nurse carried your lifeless body away. You looked like you were sleeping, except I knew I’d never see you wake up. I left the hospital with empty arms and suddenly all I could see was the empty space in our family.

I never got to see the color of your eyes.

I never got to see your tiny fist wrapped around my finger.

I never got to see you smile.

I never got to see you drift off to sleep in my arms.

I never got to see you take your first steps.

I never got to see your daddy hold you.

I never got to see you dance in the rain.

I never got to see you play with your sister and brother.

I never got to see your grandparents spoil you.

I never got to see you blow out the candles on your birthday cake.

I never got to see joy in your eyes and gladness on your lips.

I never got to see you grow.

But one day I will.

Because one day, I’ll see you in heaven.

And the empty space will be filled. And the life that wasn’t complete on this earth will be made full at the feet of Jesus.

For a while, I couldn’t see how I’d be able to go on without you. But now I can see how God took care of me in your absence, just as he’s taking care of you in his presence.

RELATED: To the Mama Who Just Lost Her Baby

I never got to see you live.

But I will. Because one day I’ll see you in heaven.

This post originally appeared on A Beautifully Burdened Life by Jenny Albers

 

Jenny Albers

Jenny Albers is a wife, mother, and writer.  She is the author of Courageously Expecting, a book that empathizes with and empowers women who are pregnant after loss. You can find Jenny on her blog, where she writes about pregnancy loss, motherhood, and faith. She never pretends to know it all, but rather seeks to encourage others with real (and not always pretty) stories of the hard, heart, and humorous parts of life. She's a work in progress, and while never all-knowing, she's (by the grace of God) always growing. You can follow her on Facebook and Instagram.

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