Spirits

She was beautiful. Dark hair, huge brown eyes, pretty in pink. I found out later that her outfit was from Africa, the way that it fit her and moved when she walked seemed other-continently (sorry made in the USA fans). Her eyes were bright and innocent, her movements jerky yet familiar in the pizzeria where Friday nights were a happy habit. The servers all knew her and she even knew how to politely ask to change a dollar into quarters for the sticker machines.

She probably wondered who we were, only having seen me two years earlier, her memory not quite developed. Wannabe dad has this “thing” with pets and kids, and she sensed it right away. He pretended to steal her quarters and make them appear out of her ear (merely by swishing a quarter in her hair – how is it really done?). And we didn’t expect this: she paused for a second, looked in his eyes, then held out her arms toward him. Wannabe dad instinctively picked her up and pulled her on his lap only too happy to oblige. With a thoughtful smile on his face, he bounced T up and down as she giggled her 2½ year old giggle, her sweet smile piercing our hearts as we thought, Where are our girls? We want to believe that she sensed the kindred angel spirits of Nad.ia and C.erina. Later in the evening she came to me with a hug, and I too pulled her on to my lap to hug, bask in, and enjoy her toddlerness.

It has been difficult for us to be around children since our girls died – babies, toddlers, and seeing twins (even older twins) reminds us of our losses and weighs our hearts down. It was actually peaceful to be with T and her parents that Friday night.

Perhaps T sensed our sadness. Her parents have it too; their son was born at 23 weeks, 4 years earlier.*



*I only found this out after our babies died; T’s dad and I have worked together for two years.