I was holding Aiden tonight as he fell asleep (yet another no-nap day) and crying for a girl from my church. You see, she's having her baby right now, and she probably won't get to keep her for very long. Her baby has Trisomy 18, a condition that is incompatible with life. Meaning, a much shorter life expectancy.

I cried for her, her husband, and the baby. I cried for women who have had to give up their babies all around the world, for various reasons. I cried at the thought of having to give up my babies. I cried for the unfairness, that a person would be asked to give up something they treasured, something they longed for and prayed for, and received only to have it taken away so fast.

I know what the Bible says, about laying up treasure in heaven. But when we're faced with something so raw, so painful, as the knowledge that you may not get to whisper "I love you" to your living firstborn child, because she just died, it takes on a whole new meaning.

This baby is a treasure. A precious, living soul that will exist for all eternity. She is a creation of the Most High God, who knew of all the days of her existence from before time began.

She has weight.

She is loved.