He’s a super fluffy elephant that I picked up on a business trip to Los Angeles seven years ago. I attended a baby event with my boss and was delighted to stuff this into my suitcase as Jason and I had recently decided to try and start a family.
I brought him home, sat him on our bedside table and went on with life. A few months later, my heart was shattered after I suffered a miscarriage. Instead of putting Mr. Winks up on a bookshelf in the nursery, I brought him into my bed. I held him as I slept, stained his fur with my tears, and clung to him as if my life depended on it. He represented all that I wanted in this world and I didn’t want to let him go.
Several months later, I had another miscarriage. A year after that, there was nothing. No baby. No answers.
Mr. Winks stood by me. He was loyal, faithful, true. He listened when I needed to yell and scream. He didn’t yelp if I squeezed him too hard. He knew there were days when I just needed to throw him across the room. I appreciated him, as he was always there, long after the tears had dried and the ache in my womb seemed imminent.
Then we had my WonderBug, my amazing, beautiful boy.
My life changed. I dove head first into motherhood and everything was different. Mr. Winks was tossed to the floor and eventually ended up in a closet somewhere.
My sweet, darling daughter has given Mr. Winks new purpose. I always thought he’d be a friend for my first baby, but alas my second baby has adopted him instead.
It wasn’t what I thought would happen. Life rarely is.
But it feels right.
Welcome home, Mr. Winks. I missed you.