So grateful for the little things

Yesterday was National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day, and boy was that an emotional rollercoaster. Work skipped by with a hop and jump, and before I knew it, 7 p.m. rolled around. Brent and I lit two candles for Morgan (one from each of us). We said a few prayers and told Morgan how much we missed that little body.

Tears welled up and spilled over like Niagra Falls. Again.
Sobs wracked our bodies. Again.
And hopelessness crept into our hearts. Again.

But it was the phone call from Mom, sharing that she lit two candles at Chapel for our little one (one from each of my parents). And the gloom seemed to dissipate a little. Shortly after, a text message beeped through on my phone. I shuffled over, and then I saw it.

Someone who has grown to become one of my best friends texted a photo of her candle burning for Morgan with the simple words: "That's my candle. I love you."

I smiled to myself as I realized that Morgan might have only been with us for nine weeks, but that baby has already touched more lives than I ever knew possible.

I love you.