Heath Justus

18+4

T21, hydrops.

Technically a miscarriage, not a stillbirth.

My son.

I knew before I listened this morning that he was gone. I don’t know how I knew. I last felt him move two days ago, but his heartbeat was still strong, galloping and blaring through my home doppler yesterday morning, despite the heavy fluid load that it was pushing against. My strong little boy. Today, stillness.

How do I feel?

Peaceful.

He’s already in heaven.

Just his sweet body is resting here safely with me.

What has Gavin been whispering to him over the past few weeks?

To hang on and fight to stay? To let go and cease from his struggling? To give momma all the loves possible while he’s here and to soak up my warmth, my voice, my love while he can? Or that he needn’t fear flying away, because my love will always reach him, and my voice will always resonate with his energy?

Did Gavin whisk him away? Did he lead him home? Did he help him decide when to come?

Did he hold his hand, like Braden takes Rowan’s? Tell him not to be scared?

Did he wait patiently with him until he was ready and then walk slowly away with him, arm around his shoulder? Did he help him whisper goodbye in my ear last night while I slept? Tell him all the sweetest ways to say hello from heaven? Promise to help him leave his own special mark on my heart and the world?

Are they running and skipping now, or quietly watching and waiting?

Two brothers in heaven,

Mirroring the two on earth

Sweet souls intertwined

Linked forever

I had no idea, when I stumbled across this sweet scene last night, that I was witnessing an in-the-flesh version of the relationship that was forming in heaven.

My rainbow that couldn’t stay.

He’s the thunder that capped off a treasured friend’s beseeching, heartfelt prayer. He’s the butterfly visiting another angel mom this evening, a different variety than the blue swallowtails Gavin liked to send. His brother has been teaching him, and he is visiting already.

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