This is a sad story.


It’s a story of a little one who was loved and hoped-for…


…All the days of his life.

His mama was overjoyed to learn he was there. She cried when she told me. I cried, too. J’s sister hadn’t made it out of the first trimester. I didn’t know her, but I began praying for him. Each week I made a pinwheel block. I planned to vary the sizes. 

But then I got word. At eleven weeks, they couldn’t find his heartbeat. He only measured seven weeks. We were heartbroken!

His mama started going for long hikes while his father was away on tour. I finished his quilt – so much smaller than we hoped for!


I can’t write this without tears in my eyes. My one-year-old naps beside me, but instead I think of his would-be friend. I think of my dear friend, mother of two but unable to hold either. There are no words, no ways to make it better. But I’m still here, sad and grieving, too. And J still has a quilt, because he matters, he is loved, and he is missed.

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