I’m always wondering about the ‘What If.’ Specifically, asking myself, “What if Archer was here?”

I want to know what he would look like—imagining his smile, which lit up the world. That smile with only two teeth (with two more coming in) would probably be half full of pearly whites. Would he still have his daddy’s blue eyes and thighs? Would he have my big eyes, eyebrows, and lips? Would he still have long, thick hair in a man (okay, baby) bun, or would we have given him a little toddler haircut by now?

I want to know what he would be saying. Archer only said one real word before passing, but he had many consonants and vowels in his vocabulary. Would he be a jabber box like me and talk our ears off?

I want to know what he would be into and enjoy. Would he still love lights and toys that lit up? Would Bluey and Blippi still be his favorite TV shows? Would we dance to music all around the house? Would he be stacking and playing with his cups still? Would he love his touch-and-feel Porcupine book?

I want to know what his mobility would be like. Would he be crawling, walking, or running if he was here? Would Theo and I be chasing after him?

I imagine the “what if” of Archer as if he was healed or never sick. Then my mind runs to the “what if” of Archer being here and still sick. What would we have seen? Would he have seizures? Would he be miserable? I know I wouldn’t want that for him. 

The first thing I know is that if Archer were here, we would love him as much as we do today, we would be taking him everywhere with us, and we would be cherishing every moment with him, no matter if he was healthy or sick.

The second thing I know is that Archer is not here. He is in a better place**, and I don’t have to worry about the scary “what ifs.” I am reassured that one day, I will see his face, hear his voice, see the job God gave him in heaven, and see him run and jump through the streets of gold.

Today, I try to put off the “what ifs” of Archer’s life and think of the “when I see him again.”

**Fun educational piece about grief: Many bereaved parents don’t want to hear their child is in a better place, so please don’t say this to them, including Theo and me.

Our desire as humans and parents is to have our babies with us here on earth, raise them, and watch them grow up forever. My awareness of heaven and experience with God makes me know that Archer is in a better place. I don’t have to hear that he is to know it.

I just wanted to share because hearing this can be a more “sensitive” topic in the grief community.