Walk To Remember....

Boy, do those words mean so many different things.

I love Nicholas Sparks. I can't read any of his books any more because I cry at enough just in my daily life, much less by purposely adding something, but still...love him.

The first book of his I came to know was A Walk To Remember. I actually heard it as an audiobook, in 2002. John's dad was diagnosed with colon cancer in 2000 and my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2002. Dad's cancer had been treated fairly successfully for 2 years and then we learned that it had metastasized and he had to have another surgery. This was right on the heels of my mom's diagnosis...and John being gone for what seemed like the millionth military exercise. I was living in Jacksonville, NC and my mom and dad were in Savannah and John's mom and dad were in Northern Virginia. I was smack in the middle--about 6 hours north of one set of parents and 6 hours south of the other. I essentially spent the weekends either going north or south, depending on whether or not John was home and/or who seemed to be doing the worst. I went up to help out after dad's surgery (though I'm not sure I helped that much) and got A Walk To Remember to listen to on the drive up (every Cracker Barrel between Fairfax and Savannah on 95 was like a second home to me!).

I cried and cried and cried and cried and cried. And cried some more.

Oh, and I CRIED.

Anyway.....

As October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month (yes, along with many other worthy causes month), walks and remembrance ceremonies have taken place all over the world all month. Last Friday was a special night where people all over the world lit a candle at 7 pm in whatever time zone they were in to remember all the babies gone too soon.

Tonight John and I will walk in a different Walk To Remember...one locally, as we remember our sweet Matthew and the little ones of so, so many others we have come to know and love and miss.

Some days, I just cannot believe how much my heart just misses my sweet boy. How so much love and joy and hope for his brother can coexist with that heartache.

Some days, I just cannot believe how many miracles I've had in my life.

It Wasn't You...

It Wasn’t You…

It wasn’t you who finally made it come true—
My motherhood.

It wasn’t you who gave me the first taste of kicks and wiggles and squirms; bulging belly and backaches and entrance into the coveted Mommy Club.

It wasn’t you I spent hours and hours researching every little thing for…deciding on each item bought so specifically and purposefully.

I didn’t read all of those books for you.

I didn’t see you in that crib…on that changing pad…in that chair…in that room.

It wasn’t you I spent years and years dreaming for.

It won’t be you who enjoys me as a “New Mommy” because I am not.

I am seasoned in a way that many others can’t imagine.

I was your brother’s mother first, and though he is not on this earth, I still parent him.

I love him.
I dream of him.
I miss him.
I grieve him.

So your mommy will not be the same as I would for him.

Because it wasn’t you.

But make no mistake: It IS you.

It is you who gives me hope.

It is you who makes me smile again.

It is you who I now include in my dreams and cherish the thought of every one.

It is you who holds a place in my heart that no other ever will.

It is you I’d again give my life for and it is you who will know me in a way that no other would.

You will know the mommy I’ve become.

The mommy who is so honored to have two sons and so humbled by their presence in my life, no matter how brief it was, has been or will be.

It is you who will know the mommy capable of the deepest sorrows and the greatest joys existing within, and it is you who will grow knowing that in all things, there is a season.

It is you who epitomizes the power of God’s restoration and healing, and it is you that reminds me again and again that He was and is and always will be faithful.

It wasn’t you who first showed me that, but it is you who perpetually maintains the concept.

You will never be him and he will never be you and I am blessed, for I have known and loved you both.

No, it wasn’t you…but it never had to be.

You are both cherished.

My sons.

Time...

...is a really funny thing...always has been. When you are a child, you cannot WAIT until you 'grow up' and get big enough...

...to ride a bike
...to ride in the front seat
...to go to school
...to ride that roller coaster
...to watch that tv show
...to work
...to drive
...to get out of school
...to get a real job
...to get married

And it seems like the time in between those things happening just draaaagggs.

Until they happen. And then you look at them and wonder how in THE WORLD so much time in your life has passed???

It's with that same wonder that I think of today and realize that it's been 30 weeks since Matthew was born. Monday will be the 7-month marker.

How is it possible that so much time has passed? How is it possible that so many changes in my life have happened in that time?

How is it possible that people can believe that I would have moved on by now?

Every doctor and nurse I know is very (sweetly) apt to remind me that I am technically considered post-partum for a year...that I need to be gentle with my body and that healing will take a good year, if not more to be accomplished.

And yet, I had a precious human being--a miracle that I loved more than life itself--ripped from my body and was NEVER able to hold and in 7 months or less, I'm supposed to be over that? Moved on so I don't somehow dishonor or disrespect my second child?

Seriously?

That math doesn't make sense to me. Yes, "life goes on"...but grief lasts awhile.

But no matter...

I've really, really, REALLY tried to hold my tongue in words these last few days.

I absolutely will pop, though, if I don't write a few things.

Most importantly, (and thank you, A, for allowing me to, in a round about way, remember this!) I want to reiterate my original purpose in writing on a blog.

My mother died 7 years ago, and far too prematurely. I miss her every day. About 3 years or so ago, I was really missing her and decided to Google her name. She wrote various things, and I thought maybe I could stumble across something new and that would make me feel close to her that night.

Imagine my surprise and joy when I found a blog SHE had kept!!!! I had no idea! It was seriously one of the best presents I had ever, ever received and I wished there was more! Truly, a gift of God.

So, when we decided to adopt, I again googled and came across several blogs of others who had adopted or were in the process. I thought, "Well...maybe I should start something--I know nothing about adoption and this will be a great way to network. PLUS, I will be able to leave with my child one day a better way to know her mother."

And Lori Does Maryland was born. I really, really cherished just the ordinary and mundane things my mother had written (along with her wonderful and precious thoughts on family and life) and thought that maybe one day, my little girl might appreciate that in me. At the time, I guess I planned to just network some and print out various posts for later reference.

Then I found out about Blurb (it was either Maria or Mala, I think, if I remember correctly) and was PSYCHED!!! I could just upload my writing and pictures at the end of each year, and voila! A semi-yearbook for my little one, with little work on my part involved!

Of course, it morphed...it grew. Things changed, plans changed and I still chronicled life because some day, by golly, a child of mine was going to read about it.

And I admit it--I met a lot of really wonderful people in doing so. I enjoy the interactions and I really enjoy the prayers and support. I'd be lying if I said I didn't.

So, all in all--a win-win. A way for my child to know my heart and mind and a way for me to enrich my life with new people, encouragement and support.

I'm not really sure why others start blogs but it makes no difference...they are, for whatever reasons, putting their thoughts out in writing. In their own space and requiring NO ONE to read them.

I'm really, really humbled that there are over 100 people who have chosen to 'follow' what I write, but please remember I wrote when no one followed...and still would.

Last I checked, there was no sure-fire way to make people read, save a gun to their head. And that's not my cup of tea.

Nor am I required to read others' blogs...so when I do, if I disagree or don't like what's written, I leave. Simple as that.

I have to admit that I have really been praying that God would just take the anger out of my heart right now. I'd like to be praying for Ms. Anonymous more, but I can't because I am too angry and need to work on that more.

Several have written me and said that maybe she meant well.

Maybe she did, but frankly, I'm getting a little bit tired of always trying to see that angle in people so that their comments don't hurt me as much.

And honestly, I don't see any way telling me I enjoy being depressed because I like the attention could be well-intended. Nor do I see how telling me that it seems like it is all about me could be well-intended. For the record, as per the title, it IS all about me. And my life. And my husband. And my children. And my thoughts. And my words. Just saying.

Regardless...there's a lot more I'd like to say, but I know I'm angry and don't want to.

I DO want to say, though, to MY CHILD, that you will forever be the brother or sister to my sweet son Matthew. Your father and I made such heartfelt pleas for you both. We begged God to bring you into our lives, just as we begged to Him to bring Matthew into our lives.

And you WILL hear me compare you because you are SIBLINGS. Just like your aunts compare similarities and differences (even with pregnancies) with your cousins, so will your parents with you and your brother.

But make no mistake--those comparisons do not mean you are any less loved for the unique and amazing God-given characteristics and qualities that make you YOU. You are precious in our sight for all that YOU are and will be...and we have so much hope and joy in the thought of you being born in a little over 27 weeks. (God willing.)

Why am I not allowed to compare the genetic or otherwise attributes and qualities of my children simply because one of them is dead? Does the death of my child take those rights away from me?

I'd bet I'd be hard-pressed to find the mother who doesn't or hasn't. "Clark loved peas when he was a baby but Sarah won't have anything to do with them!"

It's as simple as that and no deeper (I wish you were your brother) message intended.

I did finally block anonymous comments. I hate that I had to do that because really, I know how sometimes you want to leave a little comment or something and you either aren't signed in or don't want to or have the time or whatever...and feel like I really shouldn't have to.

But, since I have enough on my plate as it is, the last thing I need is to have more things that upset me.

I'm pretty much an open book, though, and very easy to reach with email (Contact Me or johnandlorimd@yahoo.com) if you want to say something to me.

All I ask is that if you do, please don't presume to know anything about me just because you read some of my honest and sincere thoughts. I promise you, even my words on this blog are just a small, small portion of what goes on in my head. And in my life.

Sweet little MJ or SL, you are so precious in our hearts. It is because of the depth of love for your brother we have that we so eagerly anticipate your birth and life to raise. You are our new hope and our new dreams and will never be anything less than an amazing rainbow after the storm for us. I know that as you grow and learn about how much your brother is loved, you will know just how intense our love for you already is and always will be.

What. A. Day.

Whew.

Five months ago, on this day, a piece of my heart left this earth. A piece of my heart that has years' worth of clothes and baby equipment and hopes and plans all over this house and embedded in my dreams. A miraculous piece of my heart is just gone.

As we drove to our appointment, Edwin McCain came on singing a song that I sang to Matthew all the time. Over ten years has passed since that song really became close to my heart...driving over the Escambia Bay every day, looking at the beautiful water sparkling like diamonds....knowing we were very close to beginning my dreams of being a mommy...I heard that song nearly every time I drove over that bridge, and really thought I could not ask for a single thing more in my life.

Singing to Matthew, over the last year, the words were so much more relevant...sooooo many years since I'd first heard that song and now, FINALLY, we were in the homestretch and honestly and truly I was so blessed. Every prayer had been answered and every dream had come true. I could not have asked for more.

Today, crying as I listened to that song, I was thankful to God that I have had two periods in my life where I could say those words. I know that some people NEVER can say that.

While I don't think I'll ever be able to say those words again...I'm grateful that I know what that feels like. It's amazing.

So, anyway...the procedure went well. At first, we were nervous because the doctor was having a hard time collaborating with the sono tech to get the catheter in the right place--which is REALLY important since those little embryos need to go in JUST the right place! She eventually took the catheter out and did it again, and it went just fine. I did acupuncture before and after, and while John calls it my voodoo treatments, I'm all about it. We had some minimal traffic on the way back, but otherwise...not too bad.

We stopped on our way back at Matthew's grave. I don't know if John even realizes today is 5 months (and T, thank you for remembering!) but I wanted to stop by, even if I'm supposed to be on bedrest. It was brief; brief enough to realize the marker was lovely, even if wrong. (Left the I off of I Samuel) Brief enough to realize that a little body I loved with my every essence was in a box beneath some green grass and that I still longed to hold it as much today as I did 5 months ago. Brief enough to get back in the car without worrying John more that I was up.

But long enough to remember that my world was still upside down.

Yeah. It takes my breath away too.

So...five months to the day after Matthew died, we are now praying for his brother or sister to implant and grow and be born and be loved and be held and raised. I know lots of people are praying for twins, and I know a lot of IVF-ers pray for that as well, but please know that while I absolutely pray for the long and healthy life of all my little embryos, twins SCARE me. I know what the infant mortality rate for a normal, healthy, SINGLE pregnancy is (and as per usual, fall right in those very low, low numbers)....I don't know how my heart would bear the tragedy that could come with twins.

I was encouraged today, by a dear girl who really just makes me smile every time I read anything she writes. She told me that God had placed on her heart FOR ME the following verse: "Her children rise up and call her blessed." Proverbs 31:28. She was sure to let me know that emphasis had been placed on childREN. She also said that whatever happened, God would sustain us. And she's right.

Although we are definitely putting the cart before the horse, as two Grade 1, 8-celled embryos don't guarantee a pregnancy, they are beautiful looking embryos, if I say so myself, and so we are hopeful.

I LOVED all the names. Loved them! I had so much fun getting each new comment and can't thank you enough for helping a stressful day be full of fun! I read them all to John as they came in. And you know what he off the cuff said? "Well, with four, it's like Eeny, Meeny, Miney and Moe....though I think Eeny and Meeny are smaller and still growing in the lab, so the two we transferred should be Miney and Moe."

And since John pretty much micromanages my pregnancy from the start, here's hoping this is the beginning of that micromanagement.

So, without further ado, please let me introduce you to Miney and Moe:
Aren't they sweet?

PS: Jade, I had no idea you read my blog (bless your bored heart!!!) but I want you to know that there were four eyes with tears in them this morning as we drove to our appointment and I read your comment. And it was just John and me in the car. I hope you read about the 'firsts' I remembered and how one of the most compassionate and loving things I've ever had done for me was because you have such a special heart. I PRAY that these little ones come visit you in about 37 weeks and I am not just the lady who brought the chocolate but her baby died...MUCH love to you and Deborah and Ruth and Margaret Ann and EVERY single person who took care of us that weekend. You are so dear to us.

Happy...

Well...I think it should be pretty obvious to me that for every time I whine (as I have been doing a lot of this week), God decides to kick me in the rear and let me know He's only going to let me dwell for so long. I've always been pretty easily motivated by guilt and embarrasment (or trying to avoid it), so what better way to remind me that I have lots of things to be happy for than to have some sweet mom send me a Happy award?? Jill, mom to precious Chase and Emma, sent me this and well, looking at some of my recent posts, I'm not so sure I deserve it, but am very grateful nonetheless. Thank you, Jill!!!

The rules of this award are:
1. copy and paste the award on your blog.
2. list who gave the award to you and use a link to his/her blog (or hyperlink).
3. list 10 things that make you happy.
4. pass the award on to other bloggers and visit their blog to let them know about the award.

Sooo.....Ten things that make me happy? Let's see....no order of degree here--

1. John!!
2. Perfectly timed songs--songs that tell me that God is there and that keep playing over and over in my head.
3. The word Maranatha! Used to be very ritualistically said by me at the end of each church sevice. Not so much ritualistic any more!
4. Beautiful flowers.
5. Amazing people in my life--family, in the flesh friends, online friends, church friends, school friends, doctors who take care of me, 'strangers' who cry with me and support me...I will never, ever cease to be amazed at how many people have touched my heart and continue to do so on a regular basis.
6. Special Christmas ornaments.
7. My silly dog. Okay, dogs, I guess, since it seems like we are definitely keeping Sam.
8. Laughing. I love laughing. I love to laugh. I miss that.
9. Ice cream cake.
10. Matthew! Being Matthew's mother. Every kick he gave me, every piece of chocolate cake I craved...Matthew makes me happy.

The rules say to pass this award on to other bloggers, and I know I should because I won't lie, it IS a nice little pick-me-up! But just look at the list of blogs that I read!!! I am honored to 'know' each of their stories and think they are ALL amazing. Please, please, please...if you are over there ================> and want an opportunity to just think about what makes you happy, then please take that button up there and run! I can't wait to read about all of the other happies!!!

Lifelines....

...here's one. I never, ever meant for this blog to be one that women who lost babies came to...and still don't really. BUT...if you are...and are looking for a group of women who know how to love you and support you and allow you to be honest with where you are with God and your heartache, here you go. Amazing. Simply amazing.

Lesson learned....

I'm going to preface this post with the following:

This is going to be hard for me to write. It's one of those things that I wish had my voice and facial expressions going with it so my heart can really be seen. I am afraid it is not going to come off the way that I want it to.

That said, if you read it and it stings, I'm sorry. I don't want it to. I want to write it because I am so encouraged. Though I don't think that makes sense.

So...this goes back to Nancy Guthrie's retreat last weekend...by the way, I didn't list any of the information you may need if you are interested in her retreat. I promise you, if you have lost a child, you will probably feel a lot of trepidation about 'doing something like that' (we did!) but you will never regret that you went (we SO don't!)....if you are interested in it, click HERE to go to her site. You can get information about her books (which I admit are sometimes hard to read but only because they are convicting and truthful, and that's often the case when we are convicted and being told the truth, huh?) and the Respite Retreat and more. So, so, SO worth it.

Anyway--when we got there, there was another couple there. Young and adorable. Actually, ALL the couples there were young and adorable! However, one couple was expecting.

I really, really, REALLY was sort of uncomfortable about this. I can't even explain why, but any of you who may read this and suffered infertility, or lost a child, (or both, like us) and are trying to have another child (or even if you aren't) probably understand what I mean. It's certainly NOT personal--heck, we just walked in the door and didn't even talk to them! Jealous isn't even the best way to describe it (although that's the closest word, I guess) because it's not their new baby YOU want. It's more that pregnant women just remind us of such happy hopes and promises...and what you don't have any more. How hard it was to get there and how you don't have a clue of what to do with yourself now that it's gone...I don't know. Like I said, hard to explain.

In any event, I guess being where we are in the process of trying to bring Matthew a brother or sister, and being at a retreat where we were going to be purposefully and determinedly grieving over Matthew sort of made my "DANGER" flags go off and me realize that I should probably keep my distance...if for no other reason but that I didn't want to upset this poor pregnant woman--and I felt that I might just by not being able to handle my emotions very well.

And let's face it. I was jealous. I wanted to be able to talk to her about the absolute joy of being pregnant and even as I type and tear up, I knew I couldn't talk to her about her pregnancy without being a sap. I want to be pregnant again too. I want a baby brother or sister. I want to see the glimpses of Matthew I never got to see and I want to know what it feels like to hold my newborn in my arms. I admit it.

Now--I should clear this up. There are lots of mommies I have *met* who have lost children and are pregnant again (or have just given birth!!!) and I am absolutely tickled to death for them. Truly. I check in on them all the time (sorry if you feel stalked!) and try to encourage them as much as I can because I just know how hard things have been for them and want them to be able to enjoy the blessing that pregnancy is. I don't EVER want them to think that they have to walk on tiptoes with me or their pregnancy because I think that EVERY pregnant woman deserves to bask in every second of the joy that they can.

But...I don't have to spend the weekend with them. I don't have to personally and constantly see their beautiful bellies get bigger and if I am having a rough moment (or day), I can check on them a little LATER...when I am feeling back to where I can be encouraging again.

Lindsay was there with me all weekend.

Now, I have written that I met and fell in love with some amazing and wonderful children that weekend. I cried and cried for such tragedy I listened to. My heart broke for the sheer despair that I would have felt if I was any one of those other parents.

And when I listened to Jeremy and Lindsay tell of their sweet Ayden, it was no different. I was just broken for them. Their first and precious little boy died of SIDS. They are both teachers and had just gone back to school and their amazing and beautiful boy died.

And for the first time in several months, I was SO glad another woman was pregnant. Not one ounce of jealousy, not one ounce of envy or wistfulness--just complete and total happiness that this dear couple was given another miracle. They had been through so much (as I know we all can relate to) and their beautiful boy just beamed in every picture--I could not imagine how on earth they were able to have tasted something so precious and then to have lost it. I was just so incredibly grateful to God for giving them another miracle.

Not because their new little boy, Collen, will ever be able to replace Ayden...impossible. I was grateful that they were given some new hope...and another opportunity to taste the joy of a little one in their lives. I'm so thankful that in a world that is SO UNFAIR (I know, I know...life's not fair!) they were able to have a little bit of what we would think would be 'fair' come into their lives.

Like I said, I realize this will not come off the way I want it. I don't even know that I can put how I want it into words. I know life's not fair...friends, don't I know! And I know that we don't always get what we deserve. I know that God doesn't give good to the good and bad to the bad. I know that we don't get what we get based on what we want or feel like we need. But darnit! I was just SO GLAD THAT FINALLY I could see a glimpse of FAIR up-close. What happened to Ayden wasn't fair and nothing would make it so, but that they were given another pregnancy to celebrate was as close as I think anything else may come.

So, I'll say it. If anyone deserves to be pregnant (and here's where I KNOW this doesn't come out the way my heart wants it, so if you've never lost a child and are trying to get pregnant or are pregnant or just given birth, please, please know that I really am happy for you--having Matthew was the most amazing thing in the entire world and it's much like faith in God, when you have it, you are SO joyful when others do too!), well...I just think it's those women who have suffered the loss of their precious children.

And my heart leaps...literally LEAPS for joy over it!

So, thank you, Lindsay--for allowing me to share this. I really struggled all week because I felt like I owed you an apology for not really reaching out to you and being super excited for you when we first got there. I hope you know how much I truly am! I think it says something that in the group picture, I'm standing beside you--I'd have put my arm around you but I was already worried you thought I was a nutcake.

I also want to thank every other parent there...I hold Hope and Gabe and Savannah and Brendan and George and Russell and Steven and Mikey and John and sweet Annie Jane and Magdelena and little Sophie and of course Ayden so close to my heart!!!

Whew.

We DID have another appointment this morning. Things are moving very, very, very slowly. Just the way I like it. NOT. There were about 15-17 follicles today, about 9 or so measuring almost 10 mm, and Jackie said I'm going a hair slower, but I have more eggs that are about the same size than I did with Matthew's cycle and she thinks it's a beautiful cycle. Sure hope so! Getting up this flipping early as often as we are is tough! How in the world did I do this when I was in school last year? I don't know what my estrogen is, but my lining was 9.2 so and I have 9 follicles that are as big as they are so I imagine it's pretty good. Probably a retrieval this Sunday or Monday.

Moving forward.

Well...things move forward, don't they? Whether I want them to or not, they do. Not on, just forward. Which means that either I do also, or I wallow.

Lately, I admit wallowing has been my preference of choice. I sort of half joke when I say that it's pretty bad that I'm more worried about someone breaking into my house because I'd be embarrassed at what state the police would find it in rather than the stuff that is missing. Usually when John is gone, the house is SO in order because it's just me.

Not this time...which is my secret agenda way of telling anyone who knows me in real life that I'd prefer them not to just drop by for fear of them being overtaken by the dog hair furiously piling up in my foyer.

But since things move forward and I am *trying* not to wallow, we are going to do another fresh IVF cycle. My nurse called me today with my new protocol. Long story short, we will be starting the medicines April 9, a probably egg retrieval on April 21, a transfer between the 24-26th and the results in the first 10 or so days of May. I cannot say enough how grateful I am to be able to try to do this again, while at the same time, so heartbroken that I have to do this again.

Heartbroken that my Matthew will never know his brother or sister on this earth. Heartbroken that *I* will never know my Matthew more on this earth.

The weekend we start the medicines is the weekend we will be going to a retreat for couples who have lost a child and is held by Nancy Guthrie and her husband. I think it's pretty considerate of my nurse to be so concerned that this cycle would not interrupt that retreat because she thinks it will be important for us. Luckily, it worked out perfectly. I am looking forward to it, but would be lying if I said I didn't have some trepidation about it. It's one thing for me to read blogs and emails of people who have lost a child--I hurt for them, I cry for them. My heart breaks for them. But I can close the computer any time I want.

It's another to actually sit there with them...hear the crack in their voices and see the years added to their eyes. Watch them shake softly as they sob about their children. See them stare off as they imagine all the should-have-beens...

Or at least that's how I imagine it would be because I know that is exactly what people get when they are with me.

And I hate that for them. Don't get me wrong, I REALLY hate it for me. But I hate it for them because I feel like it's my life and my pain. It's not fair that others have to deal with it too.

I'm excited, though. I think John is looking forward to it too. There is no Internet access for TWO WHOLE DAYS! Do you know how many Facebook updates that is???

I know, I know...

A Positive Challenge...

Well.

I had a rough day yesterday. What's new? Last night, as I went to sleep, I fervently and passionately prayed to God for the first time in a long time. I prayed for every mother I have *met* who has lost a baby. I prayed for every woman I *meet* who desperately, desperately wants to be a mom. I prayed with every fiber of my being for God to show Himself to me and continue to carry me through each day.

This morning, I made my FB status: Today is a new day that the Lord has made. I will be glad and rejoice in it.

And I was and I did.

My church morning was inspiring--literally with every note played or sung, my heart swelled. My Sunday School class focused on love. It was a lighthearted and fun morning dedicated to remind us that we were made to love--God and our neighbors. Oh, how I have been blessed with people to love and who love me!

Today, for the first time in a long time, 13 weeks and one day, to be exact, I was thankful to God for my life. I was thankful for my blessings. I remembered how it felt to smile when singing praise to God, and even though I teared up here and there, I smiled more than I cried.

So, when reading through my extensive Google Reader list, I came upon Katy's and Kristie's site and was asked this question:

What positive things have come from the loss of your baby?

SERIOUSLY? Positive things from losing my baby? That does not seem possible.
And yet--being reminded this morning that what matters most in the world is my relationship with God, I feel charged enough to admit (though shakily) that though I have seen the darkest days of my life since Matthew died, I have also seen wondrous, wondrous things.

For example:

*John and I have amazing families. For several, several days after Matthew was born and died, I don't even know how I got up in the morning. I don't even remember it. I just remember I always had someone getting me something to drink, taking my blood pressure, insisting I sit down, making my bed, feeding me, dressing me...literally and truly sustaining me. More than that, loving me--crying and laughing with me and helping me remember I am blessed.

*I have learned that there really is NOTHING that John and I can't weather. I know that people who lose children often end up losing one another. As I've said before, John is THE only other person on this planet who lost my son, and we realize more than ever that we would be lost without the other. There is nothing we can't deal with together.

*There are so, so, SO many wonderful people in this world. As if we were not overwhelmed with the generosity and kindness and envelopment from our church and the military and our community, complete and total strangers have sent us so many different little encouragements. Complete strangers. I have been reminded that the compassion people share is honestly the way God works on this earth and I have been specifically and dramatically touched by it.

Probably the most important...and positive....

*I have been and am seeking God more than any time I have ever in my life. I have literally been brought to my knees in desperation and have had nowhere to go but to Him. I have been questioning things I have always taken for granted and though I have never felt more vulnerable in my life, I also feel like I have never had more support and encouragement while being so. It's very strange--scary and hopeful at the same time. Though I toss and turn and question and wrestle...I feel like I'm right where I should be, considering Matthew is not with me.

I've often said that while this is a trial or test for me, I wonder why I had to be SO.KICKED.IN.THE.GUT for any points to be made. And yet...would I be at God's feet right now...literally begging for His mercy and His presence in my life? I'm hesitant to answer that...because the truth just hurts. I'm not ready to go there just yet.

But today I remembered what hope felt like and how precious to me it is. And that's pretty positive in my book.

This and That...

So, being the reader that I am, I have bought a lot of books lately. A lot.
I mean really, a LOT! I think the UPS guy must think I do nothing but shop Amazon on a daily basis. (I sort of do.)

I've bought books on pregnancy loss...faith...Heaven...God's plans...surviving...breathing...you name it, I've probably bought a book about it in the last 11 weeks. I really think I have maintained my sanity the last few months by immersing myself in reading. Between the books I've bought, the non-stop Google searches I make on a regular basis and the blogs I stalk (and discover) daily, I spend a lot of time reading. Again, I emphasize A LOT.

I've made mention that we have gone back to Shady Grove and that Dr. Kiperzstock has recommended we transfer the frozen embryo we were blessed to have left from Matthew's batch. This has obviously led me to have a lot of apprehension as I am very well aware of the one billion and eight (exactly) things that can go wrong and end up very tragically.

All the books, blogs and research say this is to be expected. Even Dr. Kiperzstock himself told me that I was going to worry every single day. He also told me that's what I pay him to do, so I should try to let him as much as I can. Ha ha...I love that all my doctors appreciate and have good senses of humor.

The thing is, there's just no stopping the worry, so I am not even going to try. What I AM going to try doing, though, is being just as joyful, hopeful and expectant about this upcoming cycle and any others we may have to do if this is not successful. I look back to posts a year ago and can feel the excitement and joy I had.

I don't want Matthew's brother or sister to miss out on one bit of the same excitement and joy over his or her impending entrance to our lives. I want every day of his or her life to be infused with nothing but hope.

This is what the books say is tricky, though. The fact is, I have lost the innocence that comes with feeling invincible in pregnancy--that my child is destined to be on this earth for a lifetime and I am destined to raise him. I know that this is just not always the way it goes, even at 40 weeks and 4 days. On the way to the hospital, I remember thinking, "Well...worst-case scenario is that they have to deliver him emergency c-section, but if they have to, they have to."

Yeah, unfortunately, didn't think that one all the way out to REAL worst-case scenario. REAL worst-case scenario is that they DO have to deliver emergency c-section, and he DIES. And because I know that happens, regardless of how rare or uncommon it is, I will have to work on restricting my worry and thoroughly enjoying every second of another pregnancy.

How sad is it that one has to WORK at enjoying one of the most miraculous things in the entire world?

Moreover, how sad is it that one has to work so hard at that WHILE mourning the loss of her precious baby boy?

I know. Very sad.

In any event, in an effort to be excited and positive about Matthew's twin, I want to be sure to document all the goings on.

We saw Dr. Kiperzstock on Tuesday for the mock transfer. It was WAY more uncomfortable than I remember it being last year, but that's due to the fact I have since had a hasty emergency c-section (and not too long ago, either) and things are not as they once were. I am not looking forward to the actual transfer (which has tentatively been scheduled for March 4), because it will be more of the same, only with a very full bladder. Super.

I go in tomorrow for a baseline ultrasound, and will likely begin taking Delestrogen shots every 3rd day until the transfer. I will add progesterone in oil (yuck!) to the mix around the 26th and continue that until the beta test (probably on the 17th). If it is a positive test, I'll continue those for a while. Here's hoping I have to take those shots for a long time.

A little ashamed...

"And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us." - Romans 5:2b-5

This was a friend's Facebook status today. Here I wrote yesterday that I thought I was doing all that I was supposed to in living my life and then very easily and quickly this morning in church did I get the slap on the hand that I needed.

Not only is it not my place to be disappointed in God, I realize that my disappointment and anger, are just misdirected. My pastor told me this morning that someone (forget who) said after losing a child that they were angry...and then the guy was told by someone else that he had every right to be angry--just give credit where credit is due. Death is not what God created us for. It was introduced to us by evil himself, and at that evil should my anger be pointed. And trust me, every day it gets easier and easier to be angrier and angrier. Remembering to whom I need to direct that anger makes me feel better--I know this may sound weird, but I mean it in the way that it surely relieves my guilt and anxiety being totally and wholeheartedly disgusted with the devil than to even contemplate anger at God. Sort of like I feel vindicated in being angry at the devil but anger at God just leaves me hurt, scared and guilty.

John told me yesterday that all of this certainly puts perspective on how fragile and precious life is, and maybe that's what I needed to remember. I admit, I got a little aggravated at him for telling me that because I have ALWAYS known how fragile and precious life is. Remember, *I'm* the one that is constantly consumed with fear of losing my loved ones because I know how easily life is ended. And this is who I was WAY before Matthew was even thought of...I was the one who was writing letters to the editor when I was 7 because I didn't want people to have abortions and their babies to die...boxing up my food (and not just the peas and lima beans) for the starving little boys and girls in Ethiopia. I am the one who people (affectionately, I'm sure) call worst-case scenario Sue because I know how fragile our human lives are. I am the one who has always craved the big, boisterous family get-togethers because I know how fast time flies and have never wanted to miss a second to enjoy my family and friends. I am the one who constantly has given thanks to God for everything--when I find a pair of shoes I was looking for, or remember where I parked the car, I always, always say, "Thank you, Lord for helping me." I am the one who has begged and plead with God for years to make me a mother, to give me the opportunity to have a child and give that child to God....trust me, I knew far before we lost Matthew how precious lives are...from conception to the last breath. I do NOT think that is what I am supposed get out of all of this.

Seeing this verse this morning, and seeing that I am commanded to rejoice in my suffering...ouch! This hurts because while I want to do what I am commanded to do, my suffering is so deep right now...it's very hard to rejoice when one feels as if they will never get rid of the lump in their throat or the gaping wound in their heart. But to go from suffering to perserverance, then character and then hope--well, I have to admit I am so thirsty for hope. And take note...hope does NOT disappoint us. Hope does not disappoint us.

So how can I be disappointed in God? I can't.
I miss Matthew so much that I still cannot breathe sometimes. Literally. I can't swallow, I tear up and I just can't breathe. I want to crawl into my bed and just cry. I think if I allowed myself, I'd literally run out of tears before I lost the motivation to cry...I want that baby in my arms so badly, I feel like I'd make just about any deal out there to have him. (Yes, I realize this is part of the bargaining stage) My heart feels like it will just explode and I feel like my world has come to an end.

But I have to say, in all of this...I still feel like this is a test...and tests have winners. I have hope that if I just hold up my end of the deal, as impossible as it seems, and continue to try and glorify God and show that even in devastation, we survive...I'll win.

And hope does not disappoint. It seems like it does, friend...beleive me....it absolutely, positively SEEMS like it does. But without it, there's nothing...and that just can't be and isn't true. My fear is that we don't realize that unless we stay the course. The course, though, is hell and easy to fall from.

BUT....hope does not disappoint.

Just a little bit more....

Yesterday, I bought Matthew a little Christmas gift. We realize that at this point, he'll be maybe 3-4 weeks old at Christmas and will not have a clue...so aside from the sweet little train stocking (with Matthew's name, of course) we picked, finishing up things on the registry we still may need and the recordable Night Before Christmas book I got for him yesterday, there is no more shopping for him necessary.

I cannot express how much joy I have had in shopping for Matthew. Every little outfit, every little toy....I just imagine a sweet little boy giggling and gurgling and without a care in the world...and I realize how very blessed we are.

Then I look at John's site and tear up thinking of all those little ones. Little ones for whom $5 means the world. Little ones whose lives are so hard and so desperate that living in the dump is not only an option but a very distinct reality.

I am truly amazed that $300 has already been donated to have a pie thrown at me. I asked John if he was secretly donating!!! Those 60 little sweethearts who will get a taste of what Christmas is like humble me....especially since a measly $5 is such a MONUMENTAL amount of money for them.

I know there are lots of people doing this challenge, and honestly, the money ALL goes to the right place, so pie or not, it's the donations that count. But if you haven't donated, and can, even just $5, I'd be so happy. More than that, another little boy or girl will be given a taste of hope...and know that there *are* those that care.

To read about how it was last year, go here: