When our last pregnancy ended we told our daughter very little.
She was smaller then.
And my heart hurt so very much.
Talking about it ached.
But the thing about children is their incredible perception, depth and awareness about what goes on around them.
Even when you are certain they aren’t listening… they are.
Last weekend, while playing outside with her dad, my daughter wanted to know why he didn’t have a motorcycle.
A totally valid question, even though we don’t hang with bikers.
“I used to have a mini bike, before you were born.”
I pictured him throwing his head back with this memory; his black mini bike, which was no bigger than a toddlers trike, never worked right, threw him off more than it kept him on, and was as close to a motorcycle as he’d ever get.
“Where was I?” Our daughter was fully engaged at the thought of her dad riding a hog; the wind in his hair – amazing!
“You weren’t born yet, you were in heaven waiting to be born.”
A furrow came across her brow and she stood firm, ready to correct his mistake.
“No! Mommy’s OTHER baby is in heaven, I was at the Baby House before I was born.”
My husband stood, unsure of what to say.
“Daddy, I was just a tiiinnyyyy little baby, waiting to be born.” She explained, holding up her fingers and spacing them an inch apart to display how very small she was.
My husband nodded in agreement.
She smiled wide, happy that he understood, and then went back to playing.
My daughter, from the Baby House.
Reminding me everyday how incredibly special she is.