I stumble across stories of parents losing their children on a weekly basis, it feels like. I thank the Lord everyday for the wonderful lives I have helped him create. I can’t even fathom what it would feel like to lose a child. Its my greatest fear. I think about it often. I think how different and how empty my life would be. Would I store their clothes in the attic or keep them out to remind me of the sweet memories? Would I have more children? Would I hang up even more pictures than I already have? Would I cry everyday for the rest of my life? How would me losing one child affect the way I parent? Its questions like these that I ask myself all the time. I don’t want to think about losing either of them, but these thoughts I cannot control. I cry every time I think too deeply about it, which is regularly. When I see these posts I just want to hug the mother, knowing it won’t do much. Those hugs won’t solve a broken heart. When I see these posts I go hug my own children, squeezing them just a little tighter, because those hugs make them feel safe. When I see these posts I think of my parents and if they had these reoccurring thoughts. Maybe that’s why they were so protective over things I thought little of. When I see these posts I am reminded that I anger too quickly over nothing. How these parents wish their kids were unrolling all of the toilet paper, hopping into the bath with all their clothes on, and waking them up in the middle of the night. How these parents long to hear their babies voice say “mama mama mama” over and over, even if it is just to say “hi!”. I think about how blessed I am to wake up to my childrens smiles every day. Although, nothing is guaranteed. I worry about this again and again: If they’re breathing while sleeping, If they’d get a sudden illness, or if something were to happen to them by another person. Would someone break in and steal them, even off the street or from the park. If someone was texting and driving and crashed into their side of the car… I hate thinking about death, even more so my own child’s. See, the hardest part for me as a parent is to love something so so much, and have it taken away. The responsibility of being a parent, keeping this little human safe, even from things you can’t control. That’s the hardest part for me. To just imagine losing someone I love more than anything, more than life itself, breaks my heart. When these thoughts flood my mind I am reminded to hug them a little longer, kiss them even when they think they’re too old, and tell them how much I love them as many times as I can each day. My heart goes out to all parents who have lost a little one. I cannot imagine, but then again, I am.