It's Thursday and his name is Alex. It feels good to finally write it down...Alex. Alex McGlothlin. Our little one singing with the angels in heaven. Alex because we wanted another boy, and Alex because we love boy names for girls. Either way, we loved this baby and wanted it to have a name...a place in our family.
We've batted around names for a month now and never landed on the right one. Last night, I asked my husband if he thinks about the baby much. After giving me his answer he simply said, "Alex would've been a nice name."
And it felt right.
I can't tell you how much better I can breathe now that Alex has a name. I can imagine saying, "Alex, honey, please don't hit your brother." Or, "Alex, silly goose, your shoes are on the wrong feet again!" ...in just the same tone of voice that I've said those things to his brothers. It makes me glad and sad at the same time. And it makes me ache for something to hold.
I need something to look at and remember.
I had planned to buy another of the stackable birthstone rings that I have for my family, but there are two problems with this. One is that my youngest son's stone fell out of his ring. The company I purchased it from assures me that they'll replace the ring when it's back in stock, but, problem number two, it hasn't been in stock for months now and I'm getting worried that it never will. They have other rings to choose from, but my heart loves the stackables. To me, they symbolize something that isn't finished.
So I'll be looking for an alternative. Because I need something to hold. I need to be able to look at something and know that it means "Alex."
I really think he's too busy worshipping God to even know we're not there.
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