It Must Be Said...

It must be said.

Before I say it, I apologize in advance (Gina, borrowed that from you!) because I know I am bound to offend someone.

Someone who really meant well.

Someone who honestly is happy for us.

Someone who had no intention but just to express their gratitude for the joy in our lives.

Someone we may know and love and are grateful to have in our lives.

And I’m sorry if you or anyone you know is that someone.

If I don’t say it, though, I’ll burst. I’ve had it on my heart since Wednesday. Probably longer, but our television stints (seriously, Luke is just as precious and adorable on TV as he is in real life, isn’t he?!) have brought up the exact circumstances about which I must speak. Or write, rather. And I've always tried to be honest...especially now for Luke. I always want him to know his mother's heart.

We do not have a 'happy ending'.

Tons of people (and truly, we are honored, humbled and amazed!) saw our TV coverage and shared the links on their blogs/Facebook pages. Each time, because I was ‘tagged’ or ‘mentioned’, I was able to see the posts and the comments of friends of friends of friends.

And we saw SO MANY things like, “Sad story, but glad it ended well,” or “Heartbreaking, but at least they finally have their baby.”

Ahem. We had two babies.

We only get to raise one. Well, we pray each night that we continue to get to raise one. We know there are no guarantees.

As grateful as we are for Luke…for as much joy and happiness and sheer bliss he brings into our lives…our Matthew is still dead. I still mother a grave. My first-born is not with me and I miss him so much every.single.day.

I don’t think that’s a happy ending. I think there really *isn’t* an *ending* to our ‘story’ (save when I take my last breath, maybe).

So, do we have a lot of happy in our lives? Absolutely!!

A happy ending? Not so sure. To me, that implies that we had a struggle; Matthew was born and died and that was a ‘bump’ in the road, but now we have Luke, so we finally had success!

I know that’s not what people mean, and I feel bad even saying anything about it because I do KNOW that the intentions are not to hurt our feelings.

The thing is that it sort of does. It takes me right to the heart of where my emotions have been lately--in that it sometimes seems that Matthew is forgotten because Luke is here. All the hopes and dreams for Matthew just got transferred right on over to the son who is living and can fulfill them. When people ask me (and of course, again, I KNOW it is well-intentioned and NOT ever meant to hurt us!), "Wasn't it all worth it?" (With all, I assume, being the infertility, the treatments, the attempts to adopt, trying another cycle after Matthew, etc.)...I can't answer, "Yep, sure was, because Luke is AMAZING!"

Yes, Luke IS amazing. I love him more than I can even put to words. I did not have ANY idea that I would be so utterly in love with him. I can't imagine my life without him.

But is he 'worth' Matthew dying?

How could any mother be expected to answer that? One child dying to pave the path for another? No, I don't think it's worth it. And I think I'd be a horrible mother if I was ok with Matthew not being here if that's how Luke had to come to be.

Though Matthew died, he WAS SUCCESS! He was our first miracle! He was precious! He was perfect! He was sweet, sweet, sweet and I loved every thing about him.

He made me a mother.

His death doesn’t allow us to have that ‘happy ending’ to a loooooooooong road of infertility, but neither does Luke’s birth—because I’ll never observe a Mother’s Day with Luke without remembering that I, as Linda so eloquently said in her interview, carry one child in my arms and one in my heart.

Our story hasn’t ended…it’s sad and joyous and heartbreaking and redemptive, but it isn’t over.

We live it and are grateful for it every day.

Here are the links to the segments.


http://www.abc2news.com/dpp/news/after-10-years%2C-couple-gets-pregnant-through-ivf%2C-ends-tragically%2C-they-try-again

On Motherhood and Mother's Day...

Today is Mother's Day.

A very different one than last year, or any other year I've ever been alive.

This year, I cradled a precious, sleeping baby boy in my arms during church, and gave thanks to God for the gift of Motherhood.

It's a bittersweet gift, though. Today was also Luke's dedication at church. While we stood in front of so many people who have loved and supported us for several years, and Luke maintained his adorableness by trying to shove his tie in his mouth, I couldn't help but think about how we should have had Matthew's dedication.

That had we, we may never have had Luke's.

How complicated so many feelings are. How my heart could be so full of gratitude and longing at the same time.

Admittedly, a tear or two fell.

I think back to last year...a few days from finding out we were actually pregnant again, and feeling so, so broken. A mother without her child...in a world where if you have no child to show for the labor, your title of mother is a muddy one at best.

Obviously, little Luke WAS with me for Mother's Day last year, so technically, it's not even 'our' first Mother's Day together...but of course I didn't know that then, and I didn't know whether or not I'd ever hold a child of mine in my arms. The desperation of that life, as well as the utter aching for my son clouded every second of the day.

And while it doesn't cloud today, as I recently read somewhere, the sadness and heartache is still here...it's just more enveloped in happiness, rather than happiness being dominated by sadness. For that, I'm grateful--that we have more days where the happy is greater than the sad, vice days where the sad just steals all the happy.

I'm thankful for Luke's role in our lives making that so.

We visited Matthew's grave after church. It breaks my heart that a little boy who brought SO MUCH happiness and joy into my life always seems to end up getting my tears now...tears because I miss him. Tears because I don't always feel like I do him justice. Tears because I am overwhelmed with emotion as I stand at his grave while holding Luke. Tears because I just can't stop them.

For 10 years, I cried at every Mother's Day service. Not much, but always a little as I silently begged God to make me a mother. When my mother died, I cried as I added into my begging some peace as I missed her so. Now, as I dedicate a sweet boy to the Lord, I cry because I miss his brother.

I am comforted by a few things though...mainly that before Matthew or Luke were ever born, I already promised them to God. Foolishly, before Matthew was born, I promised I'd give him to God, no matter what the calling. As if I had any control...

As I was pregnant with Luke, I did the same, though this time completely understanding in a way I never could before that my boys were God's before they were ever mine. I instead thanked God for another blessing and promised to raise Luke to know God to the best of my ability. This morning, we officially made that promise, and though I didn't get to 'officially' make that promise or follow through with that for Matthew, I know that my promise of Matthew's life to God was recognized. The certificate of dedication given to Luke had the verse that is inscribed on Matthew's stone..."For this child, I prayed," I Samuel 1:27. I know it is a common verse, and common for dedications, but it brought me a peace to see it both on Matthew's stone and Luke's certificate. Somewhere in my heart, I hope that God was letting me know He was cognizant of and honored by the promise I'd made with Matthew as I also made the promise with Luke.

I DID pray for both of those boys..."So now, I return them to the Lord. For their whole lives, the will be given to the Lord." I Samuel 1:28

Luke and Daddy had matching ties for the service!

Missing My Matthew....

...which is not new, just especially heavy on my heart today. It's a 28th...and I didn't even think anything of it until I saw several posts on FB sending me love.

Is that how it starts?

No longer looking at a date on a calendar (without being reminded) and getting that sick feeling in my stomach as I calculate how long it's been without him?

485 days, 2 hours, 24 minutes and 29 seconds

Or...1 year, 4 months, 2 hours, 24 minutes, 29 seconds

Spending the morning with a friend as we gush over Luke...with fewer tears from me as Matthew is mentioned?

Buying a Little Brother shirt more because it's just cute (and great colors for Luke!) and less to remind the world that someone precious came before him?

Is this where Matthew's life begins to become a heartbreaking part of the book...but several chapters back?

It's at least where the guilt of all of that being true weighs on me.

I miss that boy. As I type, I am crying. Can't-swallow-kind-of-crying. Wow-it's-been-a-long-time-kind-of-crying....

But it's not just in missing him. It's in feeling like he is slipping away from me.

I know it's inevitable. It's not supposed to dominate my life. It's SUPPOSED to be something that I acclimate to (which is so unnatural) and learn to accept and still be able to enjoy life and the blessings I've been given since.

It just hurts when he feels so far away. And more people on the internet remember him today than his own mother does. Is it missing him that hurts me so much right now or the guilt in living life to the fullest I can without him?

Either way...it hurts.

There are two sites I want to share for anyone interested. One is the blog of a man I came across through a FB post--I cried and cried and cried when reading his little one's story...and want to share his blog as those who decide to follow him will help to bring about donations for Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep...such a worthy, worthy, PRECIOUS ministry. Please go there and if nothing else, just follow to help NILMDTS. I know I'd be lost without our pictures and are so grateful for our sweet Maureen.

The other site is Jenni Saake's Hannah's Hope site--Hannah's Prayer is sponsoring retreats for those who deal/have dealt with infertility and/or pregnancy loss. The information for those retreats can be found here. I know I wish I was closer to either!!!

Missing you, my sweet Matthew. Not sure how Heaven works, but pray that you know you are so, so loved and missed, even if Mommy sometimes just forgets how much.

"For this child, I prayed..."

Luke is loved!

So...in trying to whittle my MUCH-TO-DO list down...I want to make sure that I write about the things I wanted to write about for Luke. Someone needs to tell me how to make that editing mark-through line when you type something in Blogger so I can go back and do that with my post of things I wanted to do.

I finally got some pictures from Luke's showers together...I meant to yesterday, but friends...yesterday was a hard day. My heart just hurt. It still does. In the last week or so, TWO mommies I 'know' who were in the middle of pregnancies after loss lost their precious babies. AGAIN. I came across an 18 year-old little girl who had just lost her 23 weaker 5 days ago. The OB appointment for me yesterday was just sad...two mommies learned their lives would never be the same. One whose due date was TODAY. NO REASON. My doctor was heartbroken. I was and have been heartbroken. I listened to SCC yesterday. There are many songs on his Beauty Will Rise CD that I have not been brave enough to listen to and I'm not sure why yesterday I bit the bullet and did so, but I did. Questions. His song Questions just resonated so much with me.

There's no escaping it. Whether it's through the computer or on the nightly news or in your OB's office for a relatively benign appointment...this world STINKS.SO.MUCH sometimes. I just couldn't bring myself to write about how loved we are and how blessed we are when my heart hurt so much for so many women.

And it still hurts, but right after Questions, I listened to I Will Trust You...and though I DO.NOT.GET.IT, I continue to trust. It's very hard on many days...but really, what else is there? What else is there if there is no hope in that trust?

On my darkest, darkest day, I still can't do anything but trust and believe in His Hope.

So anyway, YES....Luke is LOVED! Luke is proof that I don't understand, but am so grateful for the blessings regardless. I just cannot wait to meet him and hold him and hear him cry. I beg God nightly just to let me at least have those things...though I WANT so, so much more. I wrote about the surprise shower that my Bible Study ladies gave for me and another sweet friend due right before I am (though I think I'll beat her since I'll be scheduled!)...it was a total surprise and I cried and cried. Again, if you've never had a group of precious women lay their hands on you and just cover you in prayers of thanks for you and your children and your life...I'd HIGHLY suggest you find yourself a group of people who are willing to do so. It's amazing and powerful and we were just spoiled rotten that morning!!!!

Becky made this great cake!!!

Those gift baskets were OVERFLOWING!

Sweet, sweet, sweet women!!!

Lots of tears...joy and remembrance...

Luke's other shower was November 20. It was seriously a gorgeous, gorgeous day. The weather was amazing and I couldn't have ordered a prettier day. It was held at Mary's Hope on Church Cove and was a neat place. It was built in the late 1880s and was just such a pretty, pretty setting and perfect place to celebrate Luke. I loved people just mingling and visiting (and eating all the yummy stuff!) and we were blessed so abundantly with so many precious things for Luke.

And Matthew.

I can't even type that without just crying my eyes out. My Matthew. I miss him so much. I don't think anyone will ever have any idea of how touched my heart was with every word written and every thoughtful gift given as they celebrated Luke and remembered Matthew. Lord knows I know how hard it is to celebrate the life of one as you try to honor the memory of another and so, so, so many did it in such a precious way. Truly, truly, truly, the day was just perfect.

As perfect as it could be with one precious boy wiggling around in my stomach loving his cake...and one precious boy in Heaven waiting to show his mommy and daddy how perfect He is.

Mary's Hope on Church Cove...just beautiful!

Sweet little Grace Anne did this for Luke behind the house!

The turret that held the cake table with some of Luke's cruise pictures!

God Heard!

One of the food tables with the awesome cupcakes!

Some pics behind the house on the water...

Yes. We take every picture very seriously.

Shelby, me and Nanci...they did such a lovely, lovely job!

Luke's nursery quilt for the gift table...

Some sweet friends! Miss seeing them all the time!

Amy made this adorable aviator hat...and the pillow in my lap is one she made and part of Luke's nursery theme!

Amy also made this wall hanging for his room. I made the hat that's on the door knob!

Cannot WAIT to take all the hat pictures!!! Cousin Andi made our newest little Hokie this adorable hat!

How awesome is this porthole picture? Shelby's friend made it to match Luke's nursery theme!

John LOVED saying, "Look!! Bear Bottom! Bear Bottom!!" According to his driver's license, he IS a grown-up...but the jury's still out!

Ouch....

Well, as said yesterday, this is my life. Every day. In all things.

Even the grocery store.

And no, being pregnant again does not make it easier. Children are not replaceable. Being pregnant again makes me hopeful.

It's nowhere near easier.

So, even in this horrendous heat, I decided I needed to venture out to the commissary. I'm quite surprised by this, but I have had the insane desire to cook meals.

Not eat them, mind you, and GOD FORBID smell them....but to make them for John.

He's been working very, very hard.

So, I gathered my coupon book, printed out all my coupons, printed my menus and shopping list (Nanci, Maria--aren't you proud of me?), put on a breezy sundress and some strappy sandals and set out.

Still not feeling great, but sitting around doesn't help much either.

Today was a GREAT day to go shopping--commissary was dead and John wasn't with me, so I could take all the time I wanted--comparing prices, deciding what meal I will make, rifling through coupons, etc...

I was standing in front of the soups with my binder open and my menu/list out and I was about to decide what soups I was going to buy. (Campbell's Chunky, take $1 off two, you know.)

Throughout the aisles, I had seen a nicely dressed woman with a cute little girl roaming and had assumed that it was either her granddaughter (and she was a VERY young grandma) or her little girl but through an international adoption. Yes, I realize that's an assumption based on looks, but one I've lived with and also pondered while we were trying to adopt from Kyrgyzstan...and I always smile at the hope that they are a forever family somehow.

Anyway, as I was about to pick out soups, this lady stopped by my cart and saw my whole set up (in the front seat, of course, because I had no baby sitting there) and smiled at me.

"WOW!" she said. "I'm impressed! Do you have any children?"

(Now, I realize she's asking me this because truthfully, there's no way that if I had a child with me I could POSSIBLY have had that whole set up going and been taking all that time.)

YES!!! I'm expecting!!! Praise God!!

YES!!! Praise God!!! I had a miracle in November, but he's dead.

While both are true...what in the world was I supposed to say?

So, I said, "I'm expecting."

She then went on and said, "Oh...how wonderful for you...I'm just so impressed with all of this (my coupons/menus/lists) and just imagining a family you are doing this for. I have a 17-year old and my little 4-year old here and would love to do this." (I'm pretty sure I was right that her little one was adopted and so flipping adorable!_

I smiled (crying inside thinking that I shouldn't have that time...shouldn't have that ability....SHOULD have a nearly 7 month-old babbling at me and her) and said, "Thank you...I'm trying to get it all together."

She asked how far along I was.

I told her, "Ten weeks."

She then sweetly and sincerely said, "Well, congratulations!! You are just beautiful! You glow! You just radiate happiness."

I radiate happiness?????

She was so, so kind...and so sweet...and heck, what pregnant woman doesn't want to hear that they are beautiful and radiate happiness (even if they aren't!)????

This one.

Because it cut my heart in two.

How can I be radiating happiness when my son died not even seven months ago? I'm happy about many things...this baby, my husband, my family and friends and amazing support and that God sees me through each day.

But to hear her speak of me (which again, was so kind), you'd think I didn't have a care in the world and that I was the me I was a year ago---excited about being a mommy, loving the domesticity I FINALLY got to rightfully own, blissfully ignorant....

I'm not that me.

And it hurts me to think that others see me that way.

I know that's crazy--who wants to be seen as a mourning, depressing, grief-stricken mother of a dead baby????

That's not the identity I want and several months ago, that's the identity I said I didn't want to define me.

So why does it hurt so much to know that that's not how a complete stranger saw me? That she saw me as happy and joyful and hopeful.

How FAIR is it that that HURTS me and makes me feel so far from Matthew?

I know, I know...life's not fair.

Ouch. All I can say about today is OUCH. One living...promising. One dead...unspoken.

OUCH! OUCH! OUCH!

Another Day, Another Bloodtest....

So, first...I have to get this off my chest.

I am sorry.

If you are reading this and you have lost a child, I am sorry.

If you are reading this and you have lost a child, and are trying desperately to have another child, I am so, so sorry.

I now that what you are feeling is unique to you, but I promise you that I am somewhat familiar with hearing pregnancy announcements from everyone and their uncle (and I mean that--two words: PREGNANT MAN) since 1999. That's over TEN years. TEN years of cycling and charting and testing and proceduring and attempting (and failing) to adopt.
I know the desperation of wanting to be a mother.

I know the desperation of BEING a mother...only to a child you had to bury. Before you even got to hold him. And I know the desperation of being that mother--while trying to be a mother to another child...a child that you would give the world for the simple privilege of raising him or her. I know the desperation of literally begging God for His favor on this cycle, with this medicine. I know the deals you make with Him if He would just grant you another miracle.
I know how much it hurts when the deal isn't accepted.

I know how hard it is to put on the happy face with every new announcement (and there have been a lot of them, doesn't it seem?) and truly be happy for them--but so, so, so jealous at the same time. Desperate for that to be YOU. For you to be back in a club that isn't just FILLED with sorrow.

I'm so grateful that I have only had to know that unique desperation--infertility before AND/OR after a loss--for a few months since Matthew died...and not longer like so many.

And I am so, so sorry if you do. I know that sounds so surface--and I wish I had a way to convey just how truly heartfelt my sympathy is. I know I can't...words just don't do my feelings justice.

But I just want to say, that I am not sorry that I am pregnant, by any means, but if you are trying and are struggling....I am so, so, sorry that you are not.

I say this because I realize that reading about pregnancy stuff may not be easy, at least it often isn't easy for me. And while I haven't stopped reading any blogs because the writers were/are newly pregnant, there are often days that I just have to come back and share their joy a little later...after a few of my own tears.

I also say this because if you read this, and it turns out that you just can't stomach it, I get it. And I wish I was talented enough or had enough time to do what so many amazing mothers do and have separate blogs for their living children and their buried children, but I just can't. I started this blog mainly because we were going to adopt from Kyrgyzstan and I thought I'd just journal stuff. Along the way, I *met* and fell in love with so many different families and stories...I learned all sorts of stuff (like being able to upload your blog into a book for publishing!) and found some venting value in writing, even if only for myself. As Kyrgyzstan turned into the sad situation it still is, and IVF came into play, I kept writing to document for WHATEVER child would be our own. It turned out it was Matthew! And I wrote many posts so he'd know his mother...her heart, her love for God and her love for her precious little boy. Long after I was gone, I wanted him to always have something that was straight from my mouth and my mind.

When he died...he took such a big, big part of me with him. And I really didn't plan to write here any more because he was gone and so was my will to document ANYTHING....all I had to document was dark and hurting and frankly, I had enough on my plate as it was, without having to worry about what others thought of me if they really knew what was going through my mind.

But a good friend sent me a FB message and told me she prayed I still would...that this was our family's story...and it is sad and heartbreaking, but it is OURS...and one day, Matthew's brother or sister would treasure the brother they'd know because they'd know him through my words.

And so it went from Lori Does MD (in hindsight, I'd SO change the name...at the time, I was just thinking about how NOT fond of Maryland I was and how I was muddling through!) to Lori Does MD...And Waits For Matthew! to Lori Does MD...Our Family's Story.

And because it is first and foremost our family's story, it will be all about our family...our loved ones gone and our blessings to come.

So, if you find it hard to read or follow updates on Miney and Moe, I get it.

And I'm sorry. Truly, truly, I am sorry. To quote my RE, if I had a magic wand, I know SO many women with whom I'd use it...I just don't. Lacking the wand, know my prayers are solid and strong for you.


**********************************************

We had our second beta test this morning. My number today is 2971. A good, solid, strong number.

I am still feeling like it's one, still feeling she's a she.

Basically, these numbers monitor HCG (produced by the baby as it grows) and more specifically the rate, time and percentage of increase. A good indication of a nice, strong baby (or babies) growing can be made on these numbers, but not necessarily confirmed until an ultrasound (next Wednesday).

They'd like to see a doubling rate of every two days, or 48 hours (meaning that two days after the first number, the second number is double or higher).

My doubling rate was 1.59...meaning my levels are doubling a little faster (which is nice!), or every 38.3 hours.

Here's more info:

Assessment: The Two-Day hCG rise was 139 % and is considered adequate.

First hCG: 806 mIU/ml	Second hCG: 2971 mIU/ml
hCG Difference: 2165 mIU/ml	Time Difference: 72 hours	Total hCG Increase: 2.69 % (3.7)
Daily Rate Increase: 54 % (1.54)	Two Day Rate Increase: 139 % (2.39)
1st Day hCG As If: 1241 mIU/ml	2 Days hCG As If: 1917 mIU/ml

I'm of the opinion that the rise is a little better than adequate, but I admit, I'm biased.

Here's another chart that gives an indication that my levels may be a bit higher/doubling a bit faster (mine's the little red line at toward the top).


A lot of people use beta numbers to make predictions of number of embryos implanted. It's not really as accurate, as the rate of rise is more important than the numbers themselves. For instance, though these numbers are high, they are not as high as Matthew's were on these days of the pregnancy. The clinic kept saying, "Two! Two!" and he was ONE perfect little bean. (Honestly, I just feel that my children are much like me--overachievers from the get-go...)

Which is why I'm not getting too worked up over a twin pregnancy.

The average hcg level for a single pregnancy 18dpo, which is what my first was, is 407 (mine was 806).
The average hcg level for a twin pregnancy 18dp0 is 801 (as I said, mine was 806).

The average hcg level for a single pregnancy 21dpo, which was today, is 1219 (mine was 2971).
The average hcg level for a twin pregnancy 21dpo is 2500 (again, mine was 2971).

The average doubling time for a single pregnancy is every 45.45 hours.
The average doubling time for a twin pregnancy is every 42.82 hours.

Again, my doubling time is every 38.3 hours.

So...I won't rule those of you saying twins out...but I'm still feeling one.

After what happened to Matthew, though, I don't trust a single, solitary thing I 'feel' and will just wait until the ultrasound to know for sure.

5 Weeks....

My sweet little boy would have been 5 weeks old today. I realize I can't go on counting the weeks forever, but I feel like I will...even if only in my head and heart.

A lot of thoughts are rambling around my brain right now. I still continue to be in shock. I have no idea how 5 weeks can seem like eternity and yet it has flown by. I cannot tell you how thankful I was to see Valentine's Day stuff in the Exchange today. Time, thankfully, marches on.

Unfortunately, all those who tell me that time doesn't make it better but helps lessen the intensity must have a different time schedule than I do because the sting is still here...and it is still intense. Still seems so fresh, so raw. I literally can smell the hospital room. I can feel them lifting me off the hospital bed and onto the operating table. I can count every single hair on the back of Matthew's head as the nurses whisk him away--that's how close to the surface of my mind the events of the last 5 weeks are.

We have just continued to be enveloped in people praying for us and loving us...asking questions of God that puzzle them and they expect would puzzle us as well. Why? Why us? What's the purpose? What are we supposed to learn? Friends and family, and even complete strangers who instantly become friends and family tell me they don't understand--they are hurt, and hurt for us. They are mad and mad for us. They, and we, continue to remain just numb.

The thing is...I think the thing I am most is disappointed. I'm not questioning God--He's God and I'm not. But, I would be completely and totally hypocritical if I did not admit that I am disappointed in God. I know this is awful. I know this is not fair for me to feel in light of the many, many blessings that God has given me.

But it's where my heart is. I am disappointed...I have tried to live my life the way I thought God wanted. I have tried to be a good family member, a good friend and a good Christian. I have claimed God as my Lord and Christ as my Savior. I publicly and privately give Him thanks for all my blessings. I constantly try to follow What Would Jesus Do mentality and I have tried, to the best of my human ability, to be faithful and to maintain hope and faith even when it's been hard. Hard--ha ha...that word makes me laugh. I never knew what hard was until I was forced to deal with losing Matthew. Let me say right now, there are LOTS of us who don't know what the word hard really means.

I'm disappointed because in light of all that I've done...the way I have tried to live my life has been to glorify God...and yet--I'm being tested in a most torturous way. I'm disappointed because I thought I was living the way I should live and would be the recipient of the good that God says He gives to those who love the Lord. And I feel like I've been let down.

Which also makes me feel disappointed in myself for being so audacious to be disappointed in God. Who am I?

I'm also angry, but not for the reasons one might think. I'm angry because I feel like this is all a test for me...I made a promise and God called me on it. My anger is because if this is MY test, it should NOT hurt so many others so. No one else made my promise. No one else deserves this torment so that I can come out of it where God wants me to be. Most of all, John does not deserve this. He does not deserve to suffer this hell because God's working in my heart and on my faith. I'm angry because my test should be my suffering...certainly not John's and DEFINITELY not Matthew's.

I realize I will incur messages that will tell me Matthew did not suffer or that he's in a better place or question who I think I am to have input into how God decides to use each of us for His plans and I probably deserve those messages. It doesn't change how I feel, though, and I guess this is all part of the process I'm in. Like I said, I have all sorts of things rambling through my head.

I just know that if this is my test, there's no reason that John had to endure the torture he did in watching the dozens of people work on Matthew, seeing his precious newborn son be poked and prodded...hold his dying son as his heart beat for the last time. Those are things that I have the luxury of NOT facing because I can choose to NOT look at the pictures; I couldn't have been there at Georgetown as Matthew died if I tried (which I did, by the way). Those memories that John will have to deal with forever are ones he should never have--and I'm angry that he's suffering so much.

I'm sure the mood of this post shows this was a hard day for both of us and it was. But you know what? Every day is a hard day. Every day I look in the mirror and think, "Whew...must have been a rough day because I look like I just survived the Holocaust." Every day. I don't think I will ever look like myself again.

And I won't. I'm not the person I used to be. The person I am now is defeated and grieving. The person I am now is absolutely and forever will be devastated that I have clothes my child will never wear, arms that will always ache to hold him, and is trying with every breath I take to muster hope for a larger family--though there will always be one missing in every family dinner, vacation and picture. And I look like it.

That's what 5 weeks of having a hole in your heart looks like. I can't imagine what toll a lifetime with that hole will take.

Three Weeks...

I still barely breathe.

I can hardly swallow.

I feel like I have been punched in the stomach.

My eyes sting.

My heart is broken.

I miss Matthew. I miss Matthew.

He should be in a cute little Christmas outfit or a snowsuit. I should be hanging his stocking. I should be ALL happy when I see others' baby pictures...not just mostly happy.

My life is forever changed. Everything for the rest of my life will be bittersweet. I have lost a piece of me and I'll never get it back.

I am not the same. I never will be.

I saw on a website a saying that I liked, though....like the butterfly, I have the strength and hope to believe. In time, I'll emerge from my cocoon--transformed.

I'm already transformed...now I just pray to be the person that God is asking me to be.

Matthew---your mommy loves you so much. I'd give anything in the world to have you and hold you. I'm clinging to the hope in seeing you again one day. I'll never let you go then.