On Signs and Hope

I went for a walk one day last spring after I found out that I was pregnant with our baby Auburn. It was a beautiful blue-sky day, and one of those walks that felt like a prayer. Thank you for this new baby. Is this really our rainbow, though? Could you tell me for sure that this is our rainbow? Maybe give me a sign...yeah, I know. I probably don't get to just request a sign. I realize it doesn't really work that way.

Scolding myself for being so stupid, I continued walking. You've probably guessed where this is going. Two birds flew out of the trees ahead of me. I noticed them but didn't think anything of it until a third bird flew out and followed close behind the pair. Is this my sign that this little one is our rainbow who will be born 7 years after Asher? I wasn't convinced, but these three birds gave me hope. I held on to that image for weeks hoping that I could write about this sweet "sign" after we met our baby. Of course sometimes a bird is just a bird.

I'm wrestling with that "sometimes" word up there. It really is ok to hold on to signs or other comforts. It's ok to think that a bird is just a bird one day--that there is no such magic in our world--and then it's also ok to turn around and see a butterfly or a blue jay feather and think that maybe it's a little bit of love from our angels.