Brave

So...I'm doing a new Bible study at our church. It's weird to say our church, because it WAS our church for years before we moved to Maryland and joined 'our' church. Since we've moved, we've left 'our' church, and have been re-attending 'our' church and will rejoin 'our' church in the next few weeks. Moral of that paragraph? We are blessed to have been and be part of amazing church families...in Maryland and in North Carolina. 'Our' church exists in a few states, and we are so grateful.

This study, Brave, by Angela Thomas, is AMAZING. Seriously. In the last two weeks I've been doing it, I really feel like God has been talking to me in some heavy-duty ways. I realized last week that I've been worn out...just exhausted...and it's been grief.

This week...discussing suffering thorns...yep, spoke volumes to me too. Mostly, the last part of the last day screamed at me: "What if our thorns are a part of God's perfect plan for me?" "Can we trust in God's perfect ways even though we bear thorns?"

The surface answer, for me, if I am honest, is, "Ummm...no. Had all that trust in you before, God, and look what happened." If I am honest, up until this last few weeks, my trust has been that no matter what the consequences of life are, I'll survive...and that God gives me the grace and mercy and ability to do so.

But trust God? Like, trust what He actually plans and does? Not so much.

Because sometimes, those things HURT. Unbearably. Who wants that? Who wants to trust in that happening? Easier to just trust that you survive life's events with His help.

But not per His plan. Because that would mean that His plan meant Matthew was going to die. Matthew was destined to die. He allowed me to suffer 11 years of infertility and then gave me a perfect and wonderful little boy who was DESTINED TO DIE.

I've struggled with that for one year, nine months and twenty-three days.

Still struggle.

But am giving it to God and telling Him, "Yes. I can trust you."

Which is something I've not been able to say in a long, long time.

There's a lot going on in our lives. Too much to write about and yet, I probably should because I'll want to remember. Or not.

Instead, here are some pictures of my sweet, sweet boy. He got bitten by a mosquito last week that literally had me in tears calling the doctor because after three days, he still looked horrible...it was his first black eye, because of a mosquito! We'll be addressing that with the doctor.

Within a minute of being bitten, he started to swell...about the size of a quarter! Then, over the next day, it turned into a shiner...this is him on the downside...

He also went on a small, but devastating to mama, nursing strike. We're working our way back to normal.

And that boy's eyes are BROWN. I love it. Both my boys have their mama's eyes.

He's always thinking!!!

Cookies are GOOD! (An organic vanilla teething biscuit...he LOVED IT!)

Cried when I took it!

Dixie came and made him feel better!

From our first playdate!! He wasn't sure of the swing!

Won our game Saturday, woohoo! (No, not WAHOO!)

Digs prunes too...thought he'd just suck it but he shoved the whole thing! I took it and broke it up, of course!

Getting some hair, finally! (LOVE that sweet swirl!!!)

On Birthdays, Expectations, Mirrors and Other Things...

At this time a year ago, I think Dr. Shonekan and I were talking over Matthew's survivability. We both agreed that there would probably be some issues due to his blood loss and associated loss of oxygen. Probably not too much later, the amazing pediatrician on-call, Dr. Hickey, and I were also discussing his survivability...what had happened, how he was such a fighter...how he'd rallied.

No one...

No one...

NO ONE expected he'd die.

And if they did, they were gracious enough and sweet enough and compassionate enough to keep that from me.

Because I had NO DOUBT that baby boy was going to live. He was going to prove to be even more of a miracle than I already knew he was. He was going to be the reason I had been a teacher...and one with a special affinity for special needs children....because it was God preparing me for how life with him might be.

We'd be grateful, grateful, grateful.

And then Dr. Hickey was called away...and she didn't come back. I know now she was called away because she was receiving information from Georgetown.

Information she didn't want to have to give. Information no one wanted to believe.

He was not going to live.

I don't remember much, admittedly. What I remember is random and based on what medicine I'd been given for the emergency surgery, iffy perhaps for accuracy.

What I remember the most is that God let me down. He betrayed me. He betrayed my trust. He betrayed my faith. He did not intervene and He broke His promise of a little boy with spaghetti all over his face for me to love and raise.

I was numb and I was shocked and I was in denial. And while even then I didn't believe that God had broken my heart, I sure as heck didn't care...because at that time, whether he allowed my heart to be broken or broke it didn't really matter. The bottom line was that it was broken. And has remained so for 365 days.

Will remain so for the rest of my life.

Today John and I marveled at how fast a year has gone. We talked about how much faster it would have gone if he was here, because I think we all know that children grow at astronomical speeds.

Well, the living ones do.

I did pretty well in church, all things considered. I prayed last night and before church to just make it through without crying. I was almost successful...right as I was leaving the dam broke, and thankfully, for just a bit in the car. We took flowers to his grave and shivered as we realized how it seemed like it was yesterday and a million years ago at the same time...how our life doesn't seem so different than it did a year ago and how it has been changed in the most dramatic way forever. Someone had left a sweet ornament at his marker and I was immediately touched by the remembrance that had been shown.

We got home and I crashed. I was tired and just tried to nap. I was somewhat successful.

We did not do anything big for his birthday. In fact, we didn't do anything.

I planned to make cupcakes for the hospital. I planned to bring them and some hats I've made today after church. I planned to send out blankets and hats and stuffed animals to Georgetown's NICU. John says that it was so clinical and could use some warmth. I planned to have already bought the rocker for our local hospital nursery. We've been planning to get the granite bench for his marker for months and months, but never have the right car when we go by the statuary. I planned to have some tradition set so that Luke will know that even before he was born, Matthew's place in our family was worthy and meritorious of tradition, whether he was here or not. I planned to have his remembrance cards out in the mail already. I planned to eat chocolate cake.

So when thinking about what I've 'learned' this year, I realize that plans are worthless.

They don't always happen the way you want them to and that's just the way it is. Whether it's because of something you did or didn't do...some basic things still remain.

Matthew is dead. He's not coming back. Nothing I do or don't do changes that and anything I do or don't do is really and truly for me and for John.

And we are ok with getting the things I'd planned to do done as we feel we can. (Which, the over-anxious Lori inside of me is screaming, better be SOON!)

I've also learned a lot about expectations...and how they really just have too much power in our lives. We've been sorely disappointed in our expectations of some and unbelievably and overwhelmingly surprised and grateful for things said and done by those that if we are honest, really did not expect much of. We've learned that we are happiest when we expect nothing and are just blessed beyond belief with whatever people are capable of being and doing.

I really and truly believe that people do the best they can, just as we have, and though it's easy for us to say what we'd do in certain situations, we often don't know until push comes to shove.

Push certainly came to shove this year...and we are ok with the roles that the people in our lives play...while sometimes we may wish it different, we also understand that just as we don't have any rule book for how to grieve a child, there's not really a rule book for how to deal with people who are grieving a child. So we try to be graceful and understanding and share our hurts with only one another so that we can behave the way we hope God wants us to behave.

I looked in the mirror today. I saw a face I haven't seen in long time. I'm grateful that it has been a long time since I've seen it, but I admit, seeing it again just sort of instantly transported me to every hellish moment I've had this year.

It was my eyes. They were tired and sad and just defeated. I was sort of surprised that I saw that look...I really did and still sort of feel like Matthew's birthday was going to be a hard day more because people are so thoughtful and caring and recognized and remembered it...and in doing so, sort of forced me to have to think about it with every hug and kind word or email. Of course, that's necessary, but hard nonetheless....and I guess I was just surprised when I looked in the mirror and realized the toll that had been taken.

The mirror doesn't lie, does it? It's been a hard year and my face shows it.

The thing I remember most from the day Matthew was born and died was how I felt about God...and how I felt God felt about me. And John.

And now, a year later, I can say that I don't feel betrayed anymore. I don't feel like my faith was shattered. Mostly, I don't feel that He broke His promise to me.

I feel like I'm able to more understand what His promises are. He gave me a beautiful, beautiful baby boy. He made me a mother. He surrounded and still surrounds me with people who comfort me and care for me and support me in a way that I often can hardly believe. He promised He'd never leave me or forsake me...and the fact that I continue to breathe is proof that He does. He promised He'd supply me with all my needs. I've not even known what they were...and yet they've been so abundantly met this year. He promised victory over death, and though I have to say that Matthew's death most certainly stings still...it stings because I ache for him...not because I don't believe that it's been conquered. I sometimes feel like taking a big victorious breath when I think about how amazing that is.

He promised His grace would be sufficient. It absolutely has been.

He promised eternal life...far longer than the life on this earth...and through sacrifice none of us can imagine.

He is faithful and His promises can be believed and trusted.

So, of all things planned and wanted, one thing we've decided to do is put our Christmas tree up on Matthew's birthday.

I was not keen on Matthew's birthday being lumped together with Thanksgiving or any other holiday/day for that matter. Again, the best laid plans...

In any event, we will put up the Christmas tree every year on Matthew's birthday. I want Luke to know that it is because of the miracle sent to us in a tiny baby boy we will one day see our precious boy again. When he thinks of putting up the Christmas tree, I want him to always remember we did it on Matthew's birthday...and we did so because we remember, celebrate and honor the sacrifice God made to ensure we will one day be reunited.

And we'll eat chocolate cake.

Missing my sweet boy....grateful for his birth and his life.

I'm waiting too....

So, I'm just going to put it out there. I've been very, very aggravated with the story of Job since Matthew died.

And if I'm really honest, a little aggravated with God's mentality (or what I believed it to be) in the whole resolution and ending of Job's story.

Because while there are many lessons learned, pieces of wisdom and insight to be gleaned and comfort found (although I admit, still some questions!)...one thing has just really, really bothered me.

At the end...when Job's faithfulness is 'rewarded' and he is 'doubly blessed', I've been aggravated with the notion that everything he lost doubled and some new children could make it all better. More specifically, he lost seven sons and three daughters...and getting seven new sons and three new daughters was supposed to be a reward? Like those children were just replaceable with seven new sons and three new daughters?

I've often thought, "No wonder Job's wife felt like cursing God. Her babies were gone and she thought God did it." I don't believe that's the way to go about it, but I have to admit I could sure see her perspective.

So anyway...I've not been happy with the resolution of seven new sons and three new daughters. They don't replace those first children, nor could the space in Job's heart or his wife's heart be filled with 'new children'.

I had a CASA meeting tonight and was driving home. I had the radio on and it was XM station 170, Family Talk. It was some preacher, and I didn't necessarily recognize his voice. I listened mindlessly for a few minutes (long day!) and then decided I'd put some music on. So right as I was about to turn the channel, I heard the guy say something about death and the book of Job. I stopped for a second and he went on to further say that for anyone who's ever lost a loved one, and more specifically, a child, the book of Job should present problems at first. Well...I was hooked. And listened. He said that if we paid attention, all the stuff Job had in chapter one was replaced and in double the quantity by the end of Job. All but the children. I'd never actually paid attention to the number of children Job was again given, if I think about it. I just knew he'd been given more children and somehow life was good again. So, the guy goes on and says, "If you have ever lost a child, this should bother you. Children are not replaceable."

I teared up.

He then noted that we had to dig a bit deeper, though and note the significance. Job received seven more sons and 3 more daughters--NOT 14 more sons and 6 more daughters, as would fit the double blessing recipe.

Why not? Everything else was returned and he was doubly blessed. Why not the children too?

Because, just as this guy said...children are NOT replaceable. Job WAS doubly blessed with children...it's just that the first seven sons and three daughters were waiting for him in Heaven and his 'double blessing portion' of children, if you will, was there on earth with him now.

He *was* doubly blessed with children...but half were just waiting in Heaven for him.

As my Matthew waits for me.

And oh, my sweet Matthew....mommy waits for you.

I too have been doubly blessed...with one in Heaven waiting for me and one inside me kicking around for more ice cream.

There are no coincidences, friends. That random man's words were meant just for me.

Maybe for you too?

What's in a name?

Sometimes it is hard to trust God. At least for me it is.

It wasn't always this way. I used to be able to say, "I don't understand ________ but it's one of those questions I'll ask God when I get there," and I'd be-pop on my way.

When Matthew died, it got hard to trust Him. Not necessarily Him and what happens, but that He's good, all the time.

I know, I know...that makes me a very, very bad Baptist. It's sort of ingrained that when someone says, "God is good," the automatic response is, "All the time."

Since Matthew died, I have had NO trouble believing that things were going to be the way they were going to be and I really didn't have much say in it....but that God was good ALL THE TIME was hard for me.

I didn't think He was all that good at 1:26 am on November 29, 2009.

My daily (often multiple times during the day) prayer is that I get back to a place where I can just say AND believe that God is good all the time. I remember not too long after Matthew died begging God for that belief...telling Him that I could even handle Matthew being gone for now if I could just believe in the GOODNESS of God again...not just His existence or His power...His GOODNESS.

It can't be based on what my heart says or even what I feel. It just has to be a conscious choice. It'd sure be nice to feel it too, though.

The choice to believe has been very hard for me. I don't know how I can be able to put God being good all the time with Matthew being dead...all the time. So most days, I just praise God for every blessing I have, and beg Him to bring to me the faith that I feel I once had.

Today was an amazing day. We had our ultrasound with our beloved Dr. Sweeney (brought homemade banana pudding, minus Grandma's extra ingredient: rum) and baby was MOVING! Wiggly, wiggly, WIGGLY! The sono tech was laughing because again, she was trying to get the heartbeat and that little one was just hopping all over the screen. Wiggling and waving hands and legs. I loved it! Heartrate was 146 (when she could finally get it) and baby was measuring right on target. I'm 14 weeks today and one measurement was 13w6d and another was 14w2d, so just perfect. My placenta is a little low-lying, but it's very early right now so that isn't a big deal and even if it stayed that way the whole pregnancy, it's not a huge deal because I'll be a c-section.

We were very excited to confirm (or deny) what was predicted two weeks ago--that wiggler was a girl. The sono tech was looking and looking as we told her what Dr. Sweeney had said last time and she said, "Well...I think he might have been wrong! Looks like a boy to me, but we'll see what he says."

So, when he came in, we were all quiet seeing what his guess was. He looked, and looked, and looked some more. He had a very perplexed look on his face and then he said, "Gosh, I guess it's a boy, huh?!

It sure is!

He then said, "That's not what I said last time, is it?"

"Nope," I told him.

"This kid just sprouted out at me!"

A BOY! Another precious little boy!!!! I was so, so excited to be a boy mom...and now I'm a mom to TWO boys! Two heavy duty movers (though I have to say that this one seems to be even more active than Matthew!!!) and shakers.

At one point, the baby was scratching his head! He had his little hand over his head and you could see his little fingers actually scratching his head...sort of like he was wondering what the heck was going on!

I'm so thrilled to say my son's name is Luke. His name is Samuel Luke, but we will call him Luke. Another thing he'll share in common with his brother...going by his middle name. Even though I'd been feeling girl, when thinking of boys' names, and deciding on Samuel Luke, I began to feel maybe boy because there was just such purpose and meaning behind his name.

When we first tried again after Matthew died, and we contemplated a successful pregnancy, we wondered about what boy name we'd give. My son had always been Matthew, and honestly, I hadn't thought of other boy names. I had loved Andrew when I was in high school and college, but that just wasn't screaming at me now.

What screamed at me, in that discussion, was Luke. I had a student several years ago named Luke...the sweetest, smartest young man...I just loved the name Luke. I asked John what he thought and he said, "I like that." I looked it up and found it meant "light". When I told John this, he said, "Maybe he'll be a baby that brings us out of this darkness and into light."

Sold. IF we got pregnant and IF we had another boy, he was Luke.

Two days before we took our beta test, I was feeling pretty low. I was actually feeling pretty low the whole week. I just didn't feel like it was going to be successful. I got the most amazing phone call from my "This one she will keep" friend.

She told me that she'd been doing her Bible study that day and had been praying for us. She was going over the story of Hannah and was marveling at how much I reminded her of Hannah...begging God for a child, being faithful through trial...promising the Lord my son. She knew I knew the story of Hannah, as did she, and she said she dug deeper into the story of Hannah's precious and promised son, Samuel....the child for which she'd prayed. She noted how many times the Lord called Samuel, and how many times it took Samuel to finally respond...she said she counted five in her reading and kept stressing this to me. At first, I was like, "Ok...I get it...the Lord called Samuel several times before he answered...what are you getting at?" She then said, "Lori, I had to go back and look at your blog, but just like the Lord called Samuel five times, He called your Matthew." Matthew had to be resuscitated 5 times and finally, he answered the Lord's call.

So, obviously, I am crying. A lot at this point. As she continued talking, I googled Samuel to find out what it meant. Samuel: God Heard. Variants: Requested of God.

She told me that the purpose of telling me all of that was not to upset me but to remind me of Hannah's promise from God--for her faithfulness, He promised to enlarge her territory and to bless her womb. My friend said she didn't know if it was Miney and Moe, but that she believed He'd promised to bless my womb as well and He doesn't lie.

Two days later, we got the call and were told we were again pregnant.

Samuel...we begged God and He heard and answered.

Samuel Luke. God heard our requests and gave us a light.

As if the miracle of this little boy is not in and of itself amazing, God was even more abundant today.

John had a night flight after our appointment, so I dropped him off because we were cutting it close. It began to rain a bit, nothing major (darnit!) as I dropped him off and drove away and as I adjusted my seat and mirrors, I also changed the radio station (back from whatever John was listening to).

33Miles 'There Is A God' came on.

Plant a seed and see
what comes out of the ground
Find the heartbeat on your baby's ultrasound
In a few years hear it laughing,
and don't it sound like a song?

There is a God
There is a God
There is a God
How much proof do you need?

As I sat in that mostly empty parking lot, marveling at the miracle of another healthy baby boy, I found it so fitting that that song came on. In my head, I thought, "Gosh, the only thing I am missing now is a rainbow!"

I could NOT believe what I saw when I turned my head slightly to the left.



An amazing, amazing rainbow. I got out of the car and took pictures and then got in the car and just broke down and thanked God for His goodness.

And do you know what song came on RIGHT AFTER THAT? Steven Curtis Chapman's 'Beauty Will Rise'. Seriously.

It was the day the world went wrong
I screamed til my voice was gone
And watched through the tears as everything
came crashing down
Slowly panic turns to pain
As we awake to what remains
and sift through the ashes that are left
behind

But buried deep beneath
All our broken dreams
we have this hope:

Out of these ashes... beauty will rise
and we will dance among the ruins
We will see Him with our own eyes
Out of these ashes... beauty will rise
For we know, joy is coming in the morning...
in the morning, beauty will rise

Right then I knew it. I didn't have to understand it. In fact, I don't think I ever will.

But God was telling me that even though my mind can't understand how it can be, God IS good. All the time.

And I can believe it.

Here are some pictures of our precious second son, Luke:

Yeah, that's what you think it is....

This reminds me so much of Matthew...

I have a "lemme outta here" picture like this of Matthew too!

This is him scratching his sweet little head!

Well.

I really, really, really want to thank everyone who took a minute (or a few) to think about what I wrote and be thoughtful and compassionate in your comments. As I said, I really was just curious as to how people felt because these things have been weighing so heavily on my mind.

I'm glad to say that I was very encouraged by what my pastor had to say. (And not because I know he reads this!!!) and I got several emails and comments that showed encouragement as well. I read his comment; John read his comment and we both immediately agreed that we knew exactly why we go to church where we go.

What I guess I've feared in saying one belief is right and therefore one belief must be wrong is that as he said, there's a lot of tension between both theologies...like I said, there's strong scriptural support for each 'side' of belief. So, my fear has been that I do not like muddy waters (and not just because I am a germaphobe. Sort of.) in anything, CERTAINLY not in a faith that guides my life on a daily basis. I am not a fan of relativism, and never been too fond of "What's right for you is right for you and what's right for me is what's right for me," because I think that basically makes the necessity for the word truth null and void. Not to mention is sort of dishonorable to the Truth I DO know.

So when people, whether they are the most devout Christians I've ever met or the strongest maintainers of different or not-at-all beliefs, tell me with authority what IS and what ISN'T, I want facts. I don't want what makes me feel better if it's NOT the truth. Even if the truth hurts, that's what I want. I don't want "feel-good" scripture, although I think there is a lot of it. I just can't put a lot of trust in someone who uses the Bible to swear to me that I simply need to name it and claim it...because the Bible DOES allow for that but also says that just isn't always the case. I can't make peace with a theology that is what I 'want' to believe just because it's comforting. Such a slippery slope....

BUT...I also don't think that there's a person on this planet who can say with authority that God DID do this or didn't, that God DIDN'T want this to happen or did. And THAT is scripturally based--
For My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways My ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways, and My thoughts than your thoughts. (Isaiah 55:8-9)

None of us knows God's thoughts. None. We know of His character and we know of His love and we know of His Son and we know of what He wants of us and we know of what He offers us, but we do not and cannot and will not know His thoughts. On this earth. To be able to do so, is as Pastor Mark put it, to have God all figured out...or as Kristie put it, put God in a box that allows us to point fingers or carry around to comfort or simply to make peace with things. And, as she also reminded me of Job 40:8--when we presume we know what/why God did something and it was because He planned a sorrowful tragedy, we might be blaming HIM so we can justify ourselves. Again...so much of Job proves that we just don't know. And can't. And like Job, I'll back off trying to make sense of God and do my best to maintain my faith in Him...whatever the reasonings are.

So, actually, though I really appreciated each and every comment, the ones that resonated with me the most were the ones that said just that. We cannot know. And I was so honored and blessed with each comment because they truly ministered to my heart. My end take on it all is again, as Pastor Mark said....each comment was given in part...we all only know "In Part...THEN we shall know fully." (I Corinthians 13:12) I also very much agreed with Julie in that our children were given to us to glorify God. And for that, I will continue to try to do so.

So yesterday, when discussing THIS . VERY . TOPIC in Sunday School (Sorry, Bill...of ALL the days to be sitting right up there with you and the tears to not be able to stop, huh?!) I was SO comforted to be able to answer in reference to Paul talking of the trials they faced so we might not rely on ourselves but on God (II Corinthians 1:9) and whether or not that was God's design or the good that God works for all who love Him--the usage of suffering to draw us closer to Him--that we just don't know. Surely Paul got out of it that he suffered (tremendously, might I add) because God did it to bring Paul's reliance on God and not himself...and I can totally see that. I can also see that that could have been one of the many, many examples in the Bible that God is so amazingly able to use as He brings beauty of the ashes.

And the best part? As Holly said, it doesn't really matter because it doesn't make her love God any less. And such comfort in knowing that my mind seriously just can't know and therefore banging my head against every wall to KNOW is futile. And faith...blessed, sweet and full-of-hope faith is, as Andrea said, what I choose!

But....as my dear, sweet and faithful friend and I have been talking about, literally, on a weekly basis for the last 21 weeks, in times like this, the best thing to do is focus on what we can and DO know.

And I know this: God is. He is. If you, like me, are really wanting FACTS for that, I've got lots of books to share with you...I admit they are REALLY way over my head because they are science on the level of Stephen Hawking (who, by the way, said last night that if something happened, can't remember what, but if something happened, then we'd be able to see in the mind of God. Which I don't believe, BUT was interested to hear him say God. In a way that DIDN'T go with, "...doesn't exist.")....even John says the science that supports intelligent design makes him think, but that's such encouragement for me if these genius scientists continue to find more and more reason to believe He exists.

He is Love. Look at this world and the things created and tell me He's not. Look at the miracle He gave me and tell me He isn't.

Jesus Christ lived. Again, if you want archeological and historical facts for His life and death, then feel free to let me know and I'll be glad to share. I also wanted that.

History proves Him to be who He said He was.

And since He was who He said He was, He did what he said He did.

Which was to assure me of my place with my sweet Matthew one day.

So when so much else is incomprehensible and beyond reason, those things are enough.

I've had a post in my head for the last few days...for several weeks, through all this IVF stuff, I have heard a little Matthew in my head asking me, "Wasn't I enough? Didn't I make you a mother? Weren't you happy enough with me? Will you be happier with another? Will another be enough? What will be enough? Why won't you let me be enough?"

And then I realized I'd been hearing two voices for a while.
"Am I not enough? Didn't I make you a mother? Aren't you happy enough with Me? Will you be happier with another? Will another be enough? What will be enough? Why won't you let Me be enough?"

And I think we all know to whom the second voice belongs. I haven't actually written that post because I've been ashamed of my answer.

And still, I guess I am a little bit.

But this last post and all the comments led me to believe that there IS an enough. And His grace is sufficient. It has been so far, for 148 days, even though it didn't seem like it on each individual day. So I'll keep clinging to that. Maintaining my faith that we just don't and can't know all the answers, but I love that Missy shared someone telling her, "I don't know all the answers, but I know the One who does."


IN OTHER NEWS>>>>>>>Yes, there is some!!!!

I DID have the egg retrieval today. We got 16 eggs, which was surprising, but not so much considering I am now at risk of OHSS. My estrogen jumped from 1970 to 4241 overnight and essentially, I have a few other characteristics that make me high-risk for that, and I'm dreading it. It's not fun, had it before, and am really, really not looking forward to it because it's going to really sort of affect several things in the next few weeks. If I get pregnant from this cycle, it would only get worse...so, praying that it doesn't go there. My nurse said we may even get to a 5-day transfer because of how many we got, but we won't know much until tomorrow.

Whew. Off to the basement for a tornado warning. The weather report just said, "Lori, seriously...go downstairs now. For real." That Bob Ryan is so nice to me.

So, I'm going. Bob does know of what he speaks!

Heavy stuff today.

Today has been a rough day. Again we hear we are "on the fence" as for whether or not we will trigger, which means that this is still dragging out. One may read a lot about how "Slow and steady wins the race," but more IVF physicians than not will tell you "Not always," and in my case, that's the boat I'm racing in. So...not really thrilled with this morning's results. We had an appointment scheduled at the Apple store after so we can learn how to use this computer and apparently, I stink at using it so much that the appointment I scheduled on their website is for next week. (Maybe subconsciously I know this is going so slow I figured I'd be there in Annapolis again next week?) So, we at least caught 45 minutes of the Making the Switch workshop and that was helpful (although frustrating as all get-out because John does NOT pay attention and then asks questions that he'd have the answer to had he been paying attention and not playing with the computer) and headed back. My car SO knows the route. Oh, but in between, we walked around the mall a bit and then stopped at Matthew's favorite Chick-Fil-A and frankly, I just saw more strollers and cute little baby boys (and girls) than I could really handle today. Top that off with getting tricked into going to Lowe's so we could look at carpeting for the basement but spending another 40 minutes on other stuff, and suffice it to say I'm not in a rosy mood.

Maybe I'll look through my Pottery Barn Kids, my Babies R Us insert, my Similac coupon packets, my Gerber Life Insurance info or the Explanation of Benefits that stated yet ANOTHER procedure for Matthew was denied "Because your newborn was not added to this policy. Contact your administrator to add your newborn." Thanks, he's dead. No need.
All of the above, by the way, today's mail. And yesterday's. And the day's before. Thank God I get a reprieve on Sundays. I'm all about the mail only being a couple of days a week.

ANYWAY...I wanted to post this the other day because I'm very curious. I have been following Kristin since probably right after Matthew died, and defy you to look at the picture of Peyton where she's looking up and has her sweet little mouth open in somewhat of a little giggle and not cry at just how heartbroken you are that this earth doesn't get any more of that sweet face. The other day, I read through her comments about God. I was thoroughly intrigued. I didn't really have any sage advice to offer, other than I know simply because of the miracles that we had in our children God IS and does LOVE us.
I was interested in the comments because it seemed like there were two camps. Well, three if you count the camps that just didn't have a faith in God. The two camps I found interesting were the camps that came from those who do have faith and were trying to share it or their view.
And honestly, I was so glad to see that because it reinforced to me that I am NOT the only one in the world who is having a hard time finding solid ground on which to stand. I don't mean this in the way it sounds....I DO have solid ground. It's in the fact that there IS truth. But the why? and the how? and the shouldn't? and the doesn't? and the wouldn't? questions swirl around and really make me crazy.

So I thought I'd throw this out there too--and see what others think. She has a million and 8 people who read her blog, so I doubt that I'll get as many comments as she did, but I'm curious to see what even one person has to say.

And let me clearly state before I present the questions--I KNOW this is the stuff that different denominations are made of. Trust me. I've been spending a LOT of time seeing what different denominations believe. I KNOW these things are simply incomprehensible to human reasoning. I'm just wondering...

So, one camp is very clearly of the mindset that God did NOT intend for Matthew (or any other baby) to die or any other horrible tragedy to happen. That He is NOT puppet-stringing tragedies for whatever reason--growth, lessons, a bigger/better good that we can't understand, whatever. He is ABSOLUTELY able to make good of ALL situations, though...and does...even if we may never know it fully. This camp believes that we are living in a fallen world; imperfect and NOT the way God wanted it to be. But because He loves us, and wants us to love Him without being programmed to love Him, He created a world of humans with free will--the choice to follow Him or not--and that, because of that free will, we are allowed to choose for the good or for the bad. Which means that the bad exists. He didn't want it; He didn't want us to choose it...but He ALLOWED us to, and allows us still today to do so...and that's why bad things can happen to good people...a result of the fallen world in which we live.

I've loved this camp. It's been helpful. It's been the only way I have been able to retain faith in that God IS Love...and He loves me. And hurts for me. And never wanted this pain in our lives. And didn't want Matthew to suffer. And took him home as a whole, beautiful baby boy.

HOWEVER....

The other side of the coin is the one that believes God DID plan this. He chose us for this affliction. Why is beyond our ability to reason. He KNEW it was going to happen. He KNEW Matthew was going to only live for 8 and a half hours. He planned every breath Matthew took. Before the world was formed, Matthew was bound only to live a little life and God orchestrated every single person who supported us as that happened to comfort us and to guide us. This camp believes that Matthew lived the exact number of seconds God planned for him to live. God has a plan for each and every one of our lives, and has since time began. His will may not make sense to us, but He is in control of each and every thing that happens to us.

There is peace in this camp too, as I wrote the other day. Peace in knowing His sovereignty is supreme and He planned how to best comfort me before I was born--and seven years after my mother dying, how He's prepared me for this trial.

And scripture supports both camps. I've been reading books on the theological and Biblical foundation for both camps. Which is probably why my head has been just a mess.

How can one be, if the other is?

How can we have a choice in anything if God is orchestrating everything to fit His plan?

How can He not have wanted Matthew to die, yet gave me resources for today YEARS ago?

How could the story of Job and his trials basically being a test of cosmic proportions be an example of God's precise plan for Job's life (He planned the devil to come and tell him he didn't think Job would follow Him without all the good stuff in his life?? He planned for the devil to ask Him to tempt Job? He planned to tell Job that Job had NO IDEA of the battle between good and evil that was going on without his knowledge?) while at the same time be an example of the free will we have (Job chose to praise when others didn't and he really didn't have a reason to either, proving God's point that Job would CHOOSE to praise God and wasn't being MADE to)?

How could God not be orchestrating the plucking of babies from their mothers yet planning each breath every human makes?

How could God not 'intend' for something to happen, yet have each of the days of our lives numbered and counted?

And while I'm throwing it all out there...how can God plan each and every breath that I take, knew of it before the world was created, and yet repeatedly tells us in the Bible that He is patient and slow to anger because He wants so desperately for us to have a relationship with Him? If he is orchestrating it all, if it's all part of His plan, how can that be? If He's waiting for us to exercise our free will and choose Him, how could He have every second of our life mapped out, right up to the second and way we die?

I guess it boils down to this for me:
If God has a plan for us, then isn't everything that happens in our lives according to His plan, by default, part of His plan? Even the tragedy? If He has a plan for our life, and something He didn't intend or 'want' to happen happens, then doesn't He lose sovereignty? How can both exist?

Yep. Told you it was heavy. Told you it's beyond reason. Told you that it's the stuff that make and break denominations--from predestination (so, if He has predestined me, do I *really* have a choice?) to free will (if I don't have choices, what is the purpose of witnessing to others? Why pray? If God's planned it all, and my choice doesn't matter, why pray?)....even people within the same denominations, churches, families...heck, even the same marriages, waffle on these things. Some of the deepest-rooted Christians I know (and dear friends, so completely loved and trusted) waffle--and in the same conversation will somehow be able to say "God is in control" and "This was not what God wanted." I can't tell you how often in the same conversations, "God knows" has been spoken with "We live in a fallen world; it's not God we should blame."

And honestly, before Matthew died, I assure you, I was a major participant in such conversations.

Now, not so much. If I accept the "God didn't plan it, we live in a fallen world, He makes good of it all," camp, well...then I lose God's providence and the comfort from knowing He starts things in us often years before we even know we'll need them. If I accept the "God knew Matthew was going to die and it's part of His plan," then my heart bleeds. Profusely. And my knowledge of God being love is destroyed. My faith in "I know my plans for you...plans to prosper you and not harm you," wears thin.

So, I'm dying to know what others think--what reconciliations have been come to and really, just see perspective. Regardless of what it is...

I even took the Anonymous comment thing off so if you want to be anonymous, fine. I promise I won't write you a blog. I do ask this, though...please, please, please do not tell me that all this questioning could prevent another child in our lives or our healing or has anything to do with why Matthew died in the first place or is an obvious indication of my faithlessness right now. So . don't. need . that.

I'd just really like to know.

What a weekend....

I've had so many people call me, email me, text me and message me about how this weekend went. Funny, before we left, Nancy asked told us she imagined our families and friends would probably do that, and wondered what we thought we'd say.

I shared that I decided my life can't be overtaken with grief.

Now, I feel I should clarify my last post--and say that though yesterday WAS a new day, it still was a sad day. And there will be many, many, many more to come.

I said I didn't want my new identity to be defined by grief. But for everything, there is a season.

This is my season to grieve. I don't know how long it will last. I know that even when it does, the ache will never be gone, nor will I miss my son any less.

Being at that retreat this weekend, I made peace with that. Seeing families in different stages of their grief was encouraging. As I have always maintained, it can't always hurt like this...our bodies are simply not able to physically sustain this raw, fresh wound. Thank God. Meeting and sharing with other families who have experienced this first hand only reaffirmed this belief.

There's so much that I could share about this weekend, and yet...I just feel so protective over everything that was said and shared. I came to love some of the most precious children in the world, and to hurt so much for their devastated parents. I learned once again that I am SO thankful that the pain I endure is NOT the pain that others have endured. I do not even know how to put into words the way I felt about the courage I saw this weekend.

Now, I know...I HATE it when people tell me how brave or courageous I am and my guess is that these people might feel that way too...we are, in fact, all survivors and only because of the grace of God. But friends...please, I beg of you...the next time you look at your calendar and think, "Oh, good grief...how will I ever get this, that and everything else done--I don't have two minutes to breathe, much less play dress-up or trucks,"....please, PLAY DRESS-UP! PLAY WITH TRUCKS. Do it for me and every single other mom and dad who would give their lives for that basic, simple luxury.

The next time you feel like what you are going through is just not fair--people aggravating you at work, friends or family members being pains in the rear, too busy of a calendar, whatever--please just try, for me, to stop and take a breath and realize that it's not THAT big of a deal.

I realize this is not easy. I know without a doubt that had Matthew survived, you'd see lots of silly little, "What does sleep feel like?" or "We sure do know Matthew's lungs work--he shrieked the whole time we were (fill in the blank)," statuses on Facebook. I know I would have never, ever been able to understand truly how grateful I should be. How could I? How could you if you haven't walked this road? You and I couldn't know, and if truth be told, I am grateful for that too.

If everyone in this world truly was capable of knowing how this feels, we'd live in such a dark, dark place. Everyone's souls would be crushed. There would be no one able of encouraging or giving hope. I used to get so aggravated with John, especially after my mom died, because he just didn't GET how hard it was to lose a parent. Dad was going through chemo, but we were so optimistic about his prognosis. I was seeing a therapist, my dear Dr. Guyer, and he basically asked me why I was so aggravated with John. I told him it was because he just didn't have any empathy. Dr. Guyer always gave me some "Aha!" moments and he did that day. He told me that if I loved John, I wouldn't really wish he had EMPATHY because it would hurt him. Why would I want him to hurt? How could he be strong for me if he was devastated like I was? What I really wanted from John was sympathy--not able to truly understand because that would hurt so much, but to care for, encourage and lift me up when I couldn't do it myself.

He was right. This weekend was a prime example of how much the ability to empathize with others really hurts. And if we all felt that level of hurt, all the time...it would be so hard to be encouraged.

So, while I understand that sadly, perspective often doesn't come save through practical experience, I'd feel irresponsible if I didn't attempt to ask each and every one of you to try and cherish every single moment you have.

I'd love to say this weekend answered all the questions. It didn't. In fact, for both John and me, it brought lots more to the surface.

What it did do, in such a powerful, powerful way is remind us that the questions may not have an earthly answer, but they DO have an eternal answer.

I was reminded that we have been held in God's hands every second.

Mom asked me how I even came upon this retreat. I mentioned this at the retreat but feel it bears mentioning again as I think it is so powerful.

When my mother died, 7 years ago, I bought Nancy's book. If ever there was a time I needed hope, that was it. Further, I needed answers that were backed with solid scripture. I picked it up, began thumbing through it, and though I may have had the intent to go through it day by day, I didn't. I kept it on my nightstand and every now and then picked it up again for a little wisdom here and there. It stayed in my book rotation through several moves, and even though my nightstand was inundated with pregnancy books in the last year, Nancy's book stayed.

The second night we were home after Matthew died, my family had dutifully and ferociously wiped my nightstand clean of any books that they felt would have made me upset. Nancy's book screamed at me. I climbed into bed, opened the book and began to sob. Being the reader that I am, I am sure I had dutifully read the introduction every time I picked it up to read it (I feel every book is owed the honor of the introduction being read!)--and yet, I doubt that any time I had ever read her story before, I felt anything more than that was a sad story for some unknown person.

When I picked it up that night, and read the introduction, I cried. Nancy was not unknown. I bet she didn't even know it, but she had written that book for me. She was no longer a sad story. She was another mother who knew what my heart felt like--times TWO. John and I began that daily devotional that night.

On some post I made, I mentioned her book and much to my surprise, she made a comment! Seriously--famous author taking the time to comment to ME? In any event, I then went to Nancy's website, found the information, asked John if he was interested (much to my surprise, he jumped on it), and the rest was history.

Though I've rambled, my purpose in recanting this is important. I won't lie and say it doesn't bring up a lot of questions for me, but I can't deny God's providence. Seven years ago, that book came into my life. It held significance, though at the time, I didn't realize just how much.

This weekend, a work that God started seven years ago was actualized.

God knows. He knew. He prepared me and began to prepare me seven years ago. On one hand, I can find complete and total comfort in that--trust and belief that God knows what He's doing.

On the other...I find heartbreak...God knew what was to come. He knew what would happen to Matthew.

And a whole slew of "Why?" questions that I've thus far not had rear their ugly heads.

Another day. I'll have to delve into them another day.

In the meantime, I plan to remember that there is an eternal answer.

And I will not allow my joy to be stolen.

My identity will not be forever identified by grief.

I am Matthew's mother...no amount of heartache will ever take the joy of being so away.

Grateful.

I know I should be more.

I know I have a ton for which I am.

It's just so hard to remember that when there's such a hole in your heart.

This weekend, we would have had a big birthday party for daddy and 4-month old Matthew.

Daddy won't be here.

Neither will Matthew.

In any event, I am very thankful for so many things. I am thankful that we have been surrounded by nothing but the most wonderful, kindhearted and well-meaning people and intentions. Yes, some insensitive things have been said, but never, ever purposeful...that I know. Honestly, those things said are perhaps less than 1% of the amazing support we've been given. Heck, less than half a percent. Sometimes people just don't even realize what hurts my feelings. *I* don't even know what hurts my feelings until it happens. I know, though, without a doubt--not one person has ever said anything to me with the intent of belittling my feelings or my pain. I am so grateful for that.

I have never had anything but the best doctors...caring, compassionate, kind and brokenhearted for us. I do not think a better Labor and Delivery exists than the one at St. Mary's Hospital. We were truly wrapped up in so much love and concern. I cannot imagine how much different it could have been.

I do not have any family members who literally break my heart more with their words and their feelings. In meeting others, I know that I should not take that for granted. It is not always a given that your family supports you, and I am grateful that ours does.

I have had so many friends surround me with support and love. Emails, phone calls, comments on Facebook or the blog....you have no idea how much they mean. I may not respond to them all...may not even answer the phone sometimes because it is just too hard, yet...people STILL KEEP TRYING. I know I am hard to support sometimes, I do not like burdening people and I often just end up curling up and wallowing on my own. That said, every call, email, comment, card and letter honestly keeps me going and I am so grateful for not giving up on me.

Most importantly, I am grateful that God has not given up on me. As I said, I know I am hard to support--I want my son. I want to hold him. I want to love him and know him. I want him right here, right now. And because I have none of that, well...I guess I'm pretty inconsolable.
And yet...He still tries. He sends comfort through others, even when I simply refuse to budge on what will console me. I've drawn my line in the sand.

But He keeps trying. I tell people about the strangest things that happen...things that can seriously ONLY be from God. Honestly--the things that the world may call coincidental but are really *too* coincidental to be coincidences. They have to be God.

I am just so stubborn.

And broken.

But He keeps trying.

And I'm grateful.

Run. Just run. Run fast. Run now. Run.

Just this morning I said I thought it was important to not be a stumbling block, so I am not going to write all that I have been thinking.

I can say that though the Lord is my Shepard, I'd be lying if I said I did not want.

I want, Lord. I want.

RUN! GET OUT OF HERE! NOW! That's what I kept thinking in my head as I sat in church. I literally would have run out of there if I wasn't sitting where I was, which was not my usual spot.
So, instead, I just cried. I stood there, tried to sing and cried.

The music was overwhelming. So many of the songs were songs I had on my pregnancy playlist and sang to Matthew throughout my pregnancy. I had such a hard time. These songs were so significant to me. I wrote about them--and in trying to find this post, I cried some more.

"I sing for joy at the work of your hands." I couldn't swallow after that line--the work of His hands was SO magnificent. So amazing. So precious. Matthew was simply amazing.

Oh Lord, I want.

How can my soul ever be restored?

I sometimes get a little perturbed when people tell me that Job was rewarded so greatly for his faithfulness....all he had was restored and MORE!

Really? His 7 children came back? Because let me tell you, they SURE as heck are not replaceable.

I digress...anyway, as I said, I pulled up that post from September 20, and started to cry and cry. Sob. A lot. The type that *almost* made me pick up the phone and think of someone to cry to. (Almost.)

And then the phone rang. I answered it.
And I wasn't alone in my crying. I was being asked to take limits off:

"I'm not a man, I cannot lie. I know the plans for your life.
I'm asking you to dream again, to believe again and take the limits off of Me.

I'm not a man, I cannot lie.I know the plans. They're My design. I'm asking you to hope again,and trust again and take the limits off of Me.

All I'm asking is take the limits off. Take the limits off. Release Me to accomplish what I promised to do. "

I was told my name wasn't forgotten:

"I am not forgotten. God knows my name. He knows my name.
Light over darkness, strength over weakness. Joy over sadness, He knows my name. "

I was told God knows the plans He has for me and they are good.

I was told He knows and counts every tear. (This being told to me as I am and was bawling.)

I was told He would restore my soul. Those very words. No prompting from me, we don't go to the same church and she has no knowledge of what was going through my head.

I thought, "HOW? Matthew is not coming back. I may be the mother of 18 one day and that won't make it better or me miss him less. How can it be restored without restoring Matthew?

And I was told restoration doesn't mean like I was. Restoration means renewed...meaning there will always be scars, but new hope.

Friends, there are no coincidences. I'm glad I was stuck in that pew because so much of what was going through my head was worked out in an amazing way from a 'random' phone call God placed on her heart to make to me.

Like I said, God, I'm listening. I may not be great at it, but I'm trying.
Church stung. A lot.
Thank you for continuing to reach out to me.

Lord, last night I asked you to hold on to me.

Today, in the car, on the radio, You told me this is what it's like to be held.

I'm listening. It's hard. It hurts. I didn't get two minutes, much less 2 months. But I'm listening to you.

Please keep talking.

Dear Lord,

You must know how hard I am trying.
You must know how much my heart hurts.

Please, Lord, I beg of you...please wrap your arms just a teeny bit tighter? I feel like I'm falling off the edge, just out of reach. Please, Lord, I am trying to hold on for dear life.

I know you talk to me through certain songs.
I know you talk to me through dear, dear people--I know those have to be your words.
I know you talk to me when I am quiet, and staring...looking out the window as I think about how desperately I wanted to be rocking Matthew in that chair.
I know you tell me that you have good things planned for me.
I know you tell me your plans are for me to prosper and not to afflict me.
I know you tell me that your heart hurts for mine and everything is working for my good.

But Lord...I can't breathe! The blanket is so heavy and dark and I can't seem to get out from under it.
I'm afraid....you tell me those things, but you also tell me that it's hard.
You tell me that I'll be tested and tried.
You tell me that to die is to gain! I can't wrap my head around that.
You know death stings and I am trying to live through it.
You know I had NO doubt that my baby would be fine...and in that faith in you, I didn't savor that touch of skin. I didn't hold onto it longer. I didn't know that was all I would get. I believed you promised him to me. I believed you told me about him and promised him to me. Lord, I believed you. I believed there would be more...and there wasn't. If only I knew...

I did believe you. You know with every fiber, I did. I told every single person in that hospital you ordained him and he was going to be fine.

Lord, how could I have been so wrong? I am afraid because I believed with every inch of my being that you had come to me, promised him to me, and assured me he would be fine--I'm afraid I don't even know how to hear you or feel you if I was THAT wrong...Friends tell me I walked around like I was invincible and I felt like I was because I had YOU on my side! You tell me that if you are with me, who can stand against me???? You tell me that there is a strong man, but you are stronger....you tell me you knew the days of Matthew's life before they were written but I don't understand!!!!!

You didn't plan what happened to Job. You tell me you didn't. You tell me that you were propositioned, you offered an answer to that proposition, and you allowed it to be tested. And you were proven victorious because you are righteous.
But you planned for the strong man to question you and ask you to test your servant?
I do not understand, Lord.
I do not.

I am weary.
But Lord, I am here. I am at your feet, begging you to bring the peace you promise...the peace that surpasses understanding.
I'm begging you grab me tighter. There's too much slack in the rope, Lord...please, pull tighter.

And know my heart, Lord...please know my heart. Know I will promise to praise you every day. Understand if the praise is something I may have already praised you for because I may struggle remembering all there is to praise.

Lord, thank you for Matthew.

Thank you for letting John meet him, look into his eyes and hold his hand...to have his hand held back.

Thank you for making me a mother. The world may find it easy to not acknowledge that fact...and they may not understand when they in good faith and pure heart ask you to make me a mother and give me a child, they forget that I AM a mother and I HAD a child. They love me, and hurt for me, and it's so, so easy to forget those things when all I have are some pictures, a lock of hair and a pendant close to my heart but no child in my arms.

Thank you for women who let me cry and laugh in the same two hours.

Thank you for letting me remember I love to laugh.

Lord, I beg you to continue to convict my heart. It's my reminder you are who you say you are.
I'd prefer peace, but conviction works too.

Thank you for letting me cry to you.

Thank you for not letting me have a nervous breakdown today.

Thank you for so many people who lift me and love me.

With much love Lord,
Lori

Please don't be offended...

...but I have to say this or my chest will simply explode.

I do not think that my baby son died to teach me a lesson.
My God loves me.

I do not think that He planned for him to be born, only to die tragically 8 hours later.
My God loves me.

I do not think Matthew is an angel. God created him as my beautiful son and he is with angels.
My God loves me.

God knew my heart would be broken but He knew I had support and He'd get me through.
My God loves my son and would not let Matthew suffer.

I do not think God afflicted Matthew or me for a greater good.
My God loves me and my son and can make good out of any evil.

I just don't think those things. I just don't. In my opinion, they go against any picture of God we are given through Jesus. I readily admit that I am no spiritual or theological guru, but there are a few things that don't need any analyzing or maturity to know--and some are that God is good, God detests and battles evil, and God is Love.

Love is pure and deep and love is strong...which is why my heart hurts so much right now as I miss my son.

Most importantly, love never fails.

The bigger picture...

...has been somewhat of a theme these last 14 weeks, hasn't it?

So, today, as my heart has been somewhat heavy missing Matthew, I did something I RARELY do on Facebook--I did the "On this day, God wants you to know..." application. I really do NOT believe in horoscope or anything like that, nor do I give much credence to any of the Facebook quizzes (which sadly, doesn't always stop me from doing the stupid things!) or applications.

But today, I clicked on it. This is what it said:

On this day of your life, Lori, we believe God wants you to know ... that all is well.
All is going according to plan. Trust that there is a bigger picture. Trust that life is unfolding as it should.

Now, I'm going to go ahead and ruffle feathers. I have a problem (or two) with this statement. I believe Matthew is whole and though it is hard to imagine most days, I believe I will see his sweet face again and hear him call me Mommy. I DON'T, however, think that God's plan was to bless us with the miracle of Matthew only to pluck him away from us, leaving me with only 40 weeks of living inside of me, the back of his sweet little head and a brush of his cheek and shoulder. I just don't. God's plans for me are for me to prosper and not to harm me. I believe with all my heart that Matthew dying was God loving Matthew so much that He REFUSED to let him suffer on this earth as he would have. In grief, we are so often referred to the book of Job and reminded of the fact that GOD was not killing Job's family or ruining his life. He ALLOWED it to happen because we live in a world of free will. He even told Job that Job had NO IDEA of what goes on in God's realm and what battles with evil God fights, and therefore, he had NO place railing at God for things of which he did not know or understand.

Therefore, I don't think my life is unfolding as it should. I SHOULD be raising Matthew.

Before anybody feels the need to preach to me about the sovereignty of God, I beg of you to not. I am desperately, desperately, desperately seeking God in all of this, and I am in no way, shape or form questioning His sovereignty. I have NO doubt that He is. He created a world in which we were given the choice to love and follow Him or not. It is because He is sovereign that this is possible. I don't really even feel like going on about this, so I won't. I will just say this: to me, the spiritual warfare that was the basis for Matthew's death revealed God's mercy and love for my son in His decision to save him from incomprehensible suffering.

The point to all of this, though, is that I DO believe there is a bigger picture and I DON'T know what it is. I know it is a good one because God loves me and wants that for me. I pray that little Yellow is part of that, but if not, I will not blame God because bad things happen to good people, even (and often especially) to those God loves and for whom He wants good things.

But here's one thing I DO think God wants me to know: All is well. My heart hurts; I still have questions and I still just thank God each day that I made it through another day. But, I do so because He's held me in His hands...and all is well.

Sweet Matthew, I can hardly take a breath deep enough to recover from the aching I have for you. I would give just about anything in this world to have you here with me right now.

Sweet little YF, you have no idea how much joy and happiness it would bring me to introduce you to the world in 35 weeks as my second bundle of joy. Please, please make yourself at home.