We both excitedly told our families we were expecting another.
We both gazed in amazement at that black and white ultrasound.
The sound of our babies’ heartbeat made us awe at the miracle growing inside.
We both endured morning sickness and heartburn and insomnia. We both felt the kicks and squirms as well as the achy joints and pains.
We both labored for hours and felt all the pain as our babies’ made their entrance into the world. We both felt our chests get heavy and raw. We both woke up at odd hours of the night to pump or nurse our baby. We both prepared their room, we both bought the baby book and the soft blankets and adorable onsies. We both introduced our baby to their siblings.
But somewhere along the way that’s where our sameness ended.
You filled up that baby book with measurements and precious milestones. You cuddled your baby in their blankets and dressed them in the cutest outfits. You rocked your baby to sleep in the room you had so carefully prepared. You planned in detail his first birthday party with more than a one year old would ever need. You cleaned up a million spills and kissed even more owies.
I packed up the crib and the baby shower treasures. I put the unfinished baby book in a memory box. I gave my breast milk away. I planned his service and picked out his casket. I bought flowers to put on his grave. I explained to his siblings where he had gone and wiped away their tears.
Yes somewhere along the way our journeys didn’t look the same, we took two different paths. I’ll never really know why my path looked different than yours, and that’s ok.
It’s ok because my path led me to depth in faith and compassion. It let me witness a warrior in the smallest form. My path led me to him, and although it was filled with the most searing pain, I’m so glad the He introduced me to him, for my life would not be as rich if I had walked a different path.