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There is nothing more real than a heartbeat.
My Father blessed me.
When I was little, if I had a bad dream, I’d crawl into bed with my parents. My mom would tuck me close to her and bury me in her chest. I could hear her heartbeat and I would fall asleep. My heart was at peace.
My Father surprised me.
The first time I heard Evelyn’s heartbeat mine skipped a beat. The last time I heard her heartbeat it was fast and strong. And then she went home and I met her in a silent room. My heart was broken.
My Father gave me comfort.
I put my head on my husband’s chest. His heartbeat is strong and slow and steady. It sounds like home. My heart is in love.
My Father had a plan.
Every once in a while I have a strong urge to press my ear against my daughter’s tiny chest and listen. She giggles and pulls at my hair, and then pushes me away after a bit because she has places to go, things to see, no time to lie still and let mom listen. But I hear it for a moment and that’s all I need. My heart is filled with joy.
Adoption, the gospel heartbeat.
There is nothing more real than a heartbeat.
Erin says
Oh how I love this post. I too listen to my daughter's heart beat. Or put my hand on her chest while she's sleeping to feel it. I do the same with my older kids for fun with the stethoscope. They laugh and ask to listen to mine. I love that soothing sound.
Anonymous says
My heart swells with love and pride. You are my beloved daughter. Momma