Hurts so good

A dear friend of mine sympathized with me when, a few months after Gideon passed away, I held her baby, and hurt because it felt so good to hold him, but I missed my own boy so much.  They'd have been very close in age, and it was such a tangible reminder.  She said "It hurts so good, doesn't it?" (Incidentally, she is a foster mother who has had to "return" several babies that she'd have loved to keep too.)

I have since had many "hurts so good"moments.  There were a few acquaintances that I have who were pregnant with their own children at the same time as I was pregnant with Gideon.  Most of their children are now 2, and when I have the chance to observe these sweet kids, I love it because I enjoy the reminders of what my son might have been doing or saying, but it also makes my heart throb, because I feel his loss more keenly in those moments.

And my daughter, my sweet little girl, my rainbow baby.  She "hurts so good" every day.  I hug her more, kiss her more, enjoy her more because I missed out on so many of these moments with her older brother.  And when I see her start to babble, sign words, laugh when others are laughing even though she has no idea why we're all laughing, stand independently, and make messes with food...my heart swells and aches and rejoices all at the same time.  I never knew that life could bring so much joy and sadness simultaneously. 

Since Gideon, I find that life often "hurts so good", but I'm discovering it hurts in a way that causes growth--I believe I am better at feeling sympathy and expressing kindness toward other people.  I'm reluctantly learning to be grateful for the good this pain draws out of me.