His hand is my rock.
It’s the hand that held mine each time we were told a
pregnancy was non-viable.
It’s the hand that held mine when we were told surgery was
the only option this time.
It’s the hand that holds mine in the middle of the night
while we sleep.
It’s the hand that held mine as I delivered our miracle son
after the easiest pregnancy.
It’s the hand that holds mine during church as I pray for
love and grace for our family.
It’s the hand that holds mine while we take a family walk.
It’s the hand I reach for when I want him to know how much I
love him.
I love him from the depths of the ocean to the edges of the
universe.
I will do anything to keep holding his hand.
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