A sign from my boys

via pinterest

I am a mother. I keep my boys' urn next to my side of the bed on my nightstand, with Benjamin's stuffed puppy on their right side and Conner's giraffe on their left side.  We bought these two stuffed animals early in my pregnancy, before we told anyone I was expecting and before we even knew they were twins.  Ben's puppy rattles and has taggies all over it.  Conner's giraffe plays a lullaby when you wind it up. We gave it to them the day after they were born.  They were the only things we were able to give them that were from us. I have a blanket wrapped around them, as if tucking them in for the night.  I sometimes think they should be in their nursery, but I like to have them near me when I sleep.  I like to know that they are safe.

I need to know that my baby boys are safe, happy, and healthy in heaven.  I read book after book and so many of the mothers received signs from their babies from heaven. Tim dreams of them all the time.  But I never really received any concrete signs.

After we returned home from the hospital, our pastor came over and told us a story of a woman who told him that dimes were signs from God. He didn't think much of it. After his son died from cancer, he began seeing dimes everywhere.

And like him, when I heard the story, I didn't think much of it.

Tim went to get lunch right after our pastor left that day.  His change from lunch was ten cents.

We went to breakfast the day after that.  The change was ten cents.

We began seeing dimes where they shouldn't have been - fire engine floors, in the linen closet that we never use, etc.  We started collecting dimes.

And still, maybe these were coincidences. But I like to think they are signs from Benjamin and Conner.

Last night before I fell asleep, I asked my baby boys to send me a sign to let me know they were ok.

Like any day, I spent most of today in my office.  I didn't feel well and for some reason I was exhausted. I walked upstairs to our bedroom, and as soon as I stepped foot inside, I heard music.

Conner's giraffe was playing music.

It was all the way on the other side of our gigantic master bedroom, and it only played for a second.  But still... it played.

I smiled and said hello to the boys and crossed the room, walking over to the urn.  I touched the blanket on top of their urn.

The giraffe played music again.

Just for a second. But that was enough.

Thank you, baby boys. Mommy loves you.