Excuse Me As I Indulge In Some Baby-Talk.

Today, my son was to have been born. It seems however, the Universe decided it better he wasn’t. I miscarried. Six years later, I find myself still missing a presence that was all-too-brief and still wondering at just whom he would have been. With the fullest of awareness that life would have been infinitely different had he been here, all I now have are the speculations as to just what those differences would have looked like. I find myself mourning the beautiful chaos he would have caused. I find myself marveling at the changes he inspired… without being here.

My son showed up at a time when not even I thought he could. He showed up and showed me miracles still happen. He showed up and showed me that dreams, even the ones we did not know we were dreaming, can come true. He showed up and showed me that with love, life can be breathed into any situation. Into every reality. He showed up. Then he left. And what that showed me, is the value of life. The value of his, my daughter’s, yours. And, the value of mine.

I have changed. In many ways I am softer. In most ways I am stronger. My tolerance for the ways in which we tend to waste time, to waste our lives, is miniscule. I am both reckless and thoughtful. I am brave, determined and absolute in my decisions. I am committed to squeezing every ounce of goodness this life can offer and giving back the best of me. I am determined to show up being and looking my best always. That’s how I honor life.

Today I honor all the women, all the parents, who have had their souls touched by this loss. I encourage you to be kind to yourselves. I encourage you to live. Live in spite of. Live because of. Live in honor of.

Happy Birthday, Baby Wiltshire-Alabi.

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