Joy Comes in the Morning


Photos by Maria Morris

My littlest love…

My Madeleine Joy…

I thought I knew the story being written in you.

Why your middle name had to be Joy.  Why you were coming now. Why you were the perfect happily-ever-after to a journey that had once been planted in such deep sadness.

I thought…  I thought…  I thought…

But as so often happens to your mama, the story she is writing in her mind cannot compare to the one He is writing on her heart…

You are so much more than a happy ending to infertility and loss and life-threatening complications.

So. Much. More.

You are a gentle reminder for mama to breathe when she shuffles back and forth in her room at 2 a.m. finally feeling the weight of his loss crushing down on her.

You are the smile that cracks across your big sister’s face even when she fights back tears, snuggles close to her daddy and confides, “I miss him SO much.”

And you are the gentle love in your Nana’s hand as she holds your mama’s while she watches you squirm and squiggle and “practice breathe” on a screen filled with poignant life.


You are the color amongst the gray.

You are the beauty in the ash.CormanyPrego6

You are the gift that is coming even in our sadness.

You are joy to us.

That quiet, steady and deep light that comes in spite of the darkness it pierces.

That anticipation of what comes in the morning after a nighttime of weeping.

The hope that is written all over your mama’s face…

One that speaks through her tired eyes and her worn and weary body as if to gently say,

“This kind of beautiful is just a prelude, my little love, written perfectly by a mighty hand who pens His happily-ever-after with forever.”



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