This may sound crazy but I an experience tonight at dinner that made me believe that our loved ones never truly leave us.

Saturday, I found out I was pregnant. Few nights before, I had a dream that I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy at only 20 weeks but he was happy and healthy. His name was the name that my husband and I had chosen a long time ago, Wyatt. Monday I started feeling off. Tuesday morning I started bleeding and knew I was having a miscarriage and losing my baby. This morning I spoke out loud to my relatives that had passed on. “I just want to know if it was a boy or a girl” (I had a very intense feeling that it was a boy). “My heart needs to know”.

Tonight my husband and I go to a hibachi dinner for an early Valentine’s Day. A family of three sat across from us. I overheard the mother call her little boy Wyatt. Naturally, I asked her what his name was to confirm. Sure enough, his name was Wyatt. I don’t believe that was a coincidence. I believe that was my answer. I was going to have a boy. And his name would’ve been Wyatt. I know he’s with my family up there. I’ll get to hold him someday.