Yet one of the most overwhelming feelings I recall was sitting there and feeling more than just a void in my arms. It was almost a tangible pain in the physical space in front of me. There was more than emptiness. It's almost like my arms were filled with my broken heart and I longed to be holding my baby...in fact I longed to hold any baby.
It felt to wrong to have gone through labor and birth and to have no one there to hold.
I wanted so badly to call a friend who had recently (or so I thought) had her baby. I just wanted to hold him. I, of course, wanted more than anything to hold my own baby, but I knew that was impossible. Yet I thought I could find some comfort in at least filling my arms with another sweet child, if I could not hold my own.
I didn't have the courage to ask, so there I remained, with my aching, empty arms.
In the darkness of the night after Jeremy was born I sat in the hospital bed and I was overcome with that same strong desire to hold my baby. I thought back to that sunny Sabbath morning and how strongly I had felt about needing to hold a baby then. And now I had, yet again, experienced labor and birth for my son and felt that same feeling to be holding a child.
How different things were this time.
With Jeremy in my arms I wept. I wept tears of gratitude to finally have my empty arms filled. I held Jeremy closer and cried and poured my thankful heart out to God for this precious gift I have been given. To finally be able to be rid of that void is a gift from God that I am so grateful for. How grateful I am that God heard the pleadings of my heart and has blessed us with Jeremy.