From April to September

23 weeks. That’s a long time to for a blogger to go without blogging.  In that time, I’ve manged to become the world’s crappiest blogger by avoiding the keys on my computer & the thoughts in my head and on my heart.

23 weeks ago I made my last blog entry about our embryo transfer day and left many of my few followers in the dark about the outcome, and for that, I apologize.  Before I get to all of my excuses for my lack for writing, let me share my good news.  I am writing this entry while 25 weeks pregnant with a healthy baby boy!  Even seeing the words on the screen don’t seem real at times.

At first, I was hesitant to share because  things started out so strangely.  At our 6 week scan, the nurse found 2 fetal poles, that’s right folks, 2!  If you remember right, we only had 1 embryo transferred, which meant we were pregnant with identical twin boys!  We were overwhelmed, in shock, and scared.  There are so many complications that come with twins, especially identical twins, and particularly when mom isn’t quite 5 feet tall.  However, Brett and I were all too ready to take on the challenge.  We returned to the RE a week later to find only one fetal pole.  What happened to the other one?  Was it even there?  Is the remaining baby still genetically normal? Sadly, we never received an answer to our first two questions, we do know now that our baby is genetically normal and growing and developing as he should.  Our news of a successful conception, almost seemed like another loss.

After we were 13 weeks pregnant, Brett thought it was time to share the good news with extended family members, and after that ‘the cat was out of the bag’ (thanks, Mom) and soon acquaintances and people only known to my mother were randomly approaching me with their congratulatory remarks.  Even though I appreciated their congratulatory remarks, I couldn’t help but wonder where these people were through my struggle to conceive or during my miscarriage grief.   Where were their words of encouragement?  Where were their expressions of empathy?  I find it so hard to accept our societies lack of empathy. Why can we only show support through good times and not through the bad?  But, that’s a topic for another time.

Largely, I didn’t feel compelled to share the continuation of my story because to be honest, I’ve been suffering from a little bit of survivor’s guilt.  I wondered how it would make others on this forum feel who are still in the trenches of infertility and miscarriage.  I feel a since of guilt that all of my dreams are coming true while others just like me and still fighting that fight day in and day out.  Ladies, I know your pain, and to be honest, I still feel remnants of that pain even now. I still fear that the worst will happen to my child.  I still struggle with the idea that if God puts the desire in my heart to have another child, that I will have to endure the challenges of infertility all over again.  To those continuing to fight, I think about you daily, and can only pray that you find peace and hopefully the pregnancy that I have found.

For those of you interested, I will share some of the details these last amazing 23 weeks of my life.  At the time, the 1st trimester didn’t seem that bad, sure I had some bouts of nausea but nothing I couldn’t handle.  I was tired a lot & napping almost every day.  Now that I am nearing the end of my 2nd trimester, I realize just how bad I felt that 1st trimester!  I feel great now.  I’ve got that killer baby bump going on, and I feel him move every day, which by the way is the most humbling and beautiful feeling in the world.  It makes me so grateful that God made me a woman and that I get to carry this child in my body for 40 weeks.  I honestly LOVE being pregnant and I am soaking up every minute of it, because nothing in life is guaranteed.  I most likely will never be pregnant again.  I have 15 weeks left in this pregnancy, even though  I absolutely can’t wait to meet my son, I am perfectly content with him being safe and sound in my belly.  Even though I was adamant about not having a ‘baby shower’ my dear friend convinced me (or told me she wouldn’t be my friend any more) if I didn’t let her throw me a shower. Well, it isn’t going to be a shower.  It will just be the friends that I always hang out with, doing what we normally do; hanging out in a garage, eating food, and drinking beer.  Only I won’t be drinking beer, and people will bring the baby gifts.

Wish me luck at being a better blogger. I hope to keep you all updated on my thoughts and feelings over these next several months.  As always, I am thinking and praying for the couples who are actively grieving the loss of their child & for those struggling to conceive.  I always hated when people would say ‘keep fighting and it will happen’, so I’m not going to say that.  I will say to find joy in the place where you are, even if it seems like hell.

 

 

 

 

Transfer Day and Infertility Awareness

So, it’s National Infertility Awareness Week. As of today we have been trying to conceive and give birth to a living child for 1, 685 days. I must admit that I’m not very good and publicly sharing our journey of infertility and loss. Now, does that mean that the people in my life don’t know about our struggle and our journey? No. I have a strong inner circle of friends and family that know and care about the events surrounding our journey to baby. And for me, that’s enough. I don’t need the girl I roomed with freshman year of college, who I haven’t spoken to since, knowing about the most intimate parts of my life. What’s the point? Would she empathize with me? Probably not. Would she sympathize for me? Probably. But I don’t need sympathy. I need someone to be in the trenches with me, not someone to feel bad for my situation. With all that being said, I am glad that so many women out there do such a great job of educating others on social media of our struggles, by providing lists to what not to say to your infertile friend, and so forth. It’s just not for me, as I don’t even have a Twitter or Facebook, and hardly anyone follows me on Instagram. So, kudos to my infertility sisters for educating others on our behalf. I am doing my part through intimate conversations with co-workers family members, and friends.
So here we are, on the BIG day! Which was yesterday. Our boy is in and getting nice and cozy! I was unbelievably calm leading up to our transfer day and continue to be. I was worried that it meant that I didn’t care. But after prayer and consideration I realized that I have finally given up control to God. I know that there is nothing that I can do to control the outcome of all of this, and worrying and stressing does me no good. I hope that my confidence in the Lord continues through the two week wait and throughout my pregnancy.  I keep looking at this picture thinking, ‘this is the last picture we will ever take in a world where it’s just the two of us.’ How exciting is that my friends?! 

Yesterday, we left the clinic with 3 embryos. One in my uterus, and the other two in straws. The clinic gave us the two abnormal embryos which we learned were both girls and incompatible with life. I was surprised by this, I have never heard anyone else talk about being able to take their embryos home with them. We are happy to have them with us, and I am moved that I have actually held those babies in my hands.  We bought a willow tree to plant near our pond. We plan to bury them under the tree. We hope the tree will be a living reminder of our two girls and the two children we miscarried over the past year. I plan to post a picture after it is planted. I told a friend the other day, that infertility and miscarriage comes with so many emotions all at once. I have to let myself feel all of them, but it’s too much to feel them all at once. So today, I feel CONFIDANT. I am confidant that I am carrying the child that God has promised us.  

The Results are In

  I know they say not to put all your eggs in one basket, but I am. I’m putting all of my hope in one basket too. We retrieved 10 eggs, 7 fertilized, 3 made it to 5-day embryos and were able to biopsy all three for testing. The results are in: 1 normal embryo, and it’s a BOY! I feel very blessed to have this one perfect baby-to-be.  I know that just because it is a normal embryo doesn’t mean that it will result in a perfectly normal and healthy living baby boy. But I am putting all of my hope, prayer and faith in that one embryo. He is already loved so much. He was made uniquely. His eyes, hair color, the way he laughs, how he smiles, is already determined. It’s simply amazing.  I am slightly sad though because of the two embryos that we are going to lose. I was unable to understand what was wrong with one of them-it sounds like a lot, it probably wouldn’t have even implanted. (At least that’s what I tell myself) Another one was missing a chromosome 15 from the paternal side. I didn’t ask if it was a boy or a girl. 

I really think this is our chance! Transfer is set for the end of April and my body is aching to be united with my little man. I realize that at anytime something might not go the way I had planned but I am going to enjoy the anticipation of having a living child for as long as I can. And love him forever. 

A Thousand Lives in One

Over the past several years I have fallen in love with the George R.R. Martin series, A Song of Ice and Fire. Let me share one of my favorite quotes. “A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies, said Jojen. The man who never reads lives only one.” Isn’t it amazing how true that is? Isn’t that why we love fiction novels?  We get to live the lives of the fictional characters created within the pages.  We get to leave our world to be in theirs.  We can image our life in another place, another time.  Maybe we would have more money, more opportunities, better looks, better luck? Or maybe the fate of the characters are so dire that the problems we face don’t seem so troubling after all?  We get to forget for the briefest of moments the real tragedies that are actually facing us today. I have found that novels can either make me feel better about my life or help me to escape it to feel like I’m living in a better one. Maybe you can relate.  As much as I hate to disagree with my favorite author, I believe there is another way to live a thousand lives before we die.  Because of  INFERTILITY I am learning how to live a thousand lives in one.

I have always been what I would consider privileged, and to me privilege isn’t always about money.  I am the daughter of a teacher and a homemaker.  I grew up living a fairly modest life.  But, we were never denied the things that we needed.  My siblings and I did not have to get part-time jobs in high school to help pay the rent.  We didn’t have to give up our favorite sport because it was too expensive to play.  Mom ALWAYS made the best meals and kept the house in the nicest condition.  My parents were loving and affectionate to each other.  My family had a lot of friends and we were all healthy.  My parents decided to move when I was a freshman in college to a new town about an hour away from where we grew up, so we could be closer to our aging grandparents.  This transition took a toll on my siblings but I was relatively unaffected because I had already moved away to college.  I meet the darling man I call my husband the summer between my freshman and sophomore year in college.  I was 18 and he was 19.  It only took a few weeks, and we already knew we would be married.  He moved from Florida 4 months after we met, and we spent our last years in college together.  We were married shortly after my college graduation, I was 22 and he was 23.  He got a good job right out of college and so did I.  Not long after we got married he was given an opportunity to buy out his dad in a booming business.  He has been managing the business successfully ever since.  We bought our house 3 years after we were married.  We live 10 minutes from my parents, and 10 minutes from his dad.  My other in-laws live in Florida (talk about a nice get-away!) Wow! That was easy.  We got this life thing figured out!  In less than three years, we meet, got our dream jobs, married, and bought our forever home.  All before any of our friends were even married! Talk about your early bloomers.  See what I mean about privileged? Nothing ever went wrong for us, I guess I figured life would continue to work that way.  We had friends, family, money, careers, and each other. Now we are 28 & 29.  We have been trying to have our first living child for 4.5 years.  Wow, this is HARD, now nothing seems to go right for us!

Before INFERTILITY, when friends would talk about their problems be it with their job, their parents, or their boyfriend, I would listen as any friend would.  I would act empathetic, but when the conversation was over I would always think, “I’m glad it’s them and not me.”  Then, I would move on unaffected by the trials and tribulations facing someone that I was suppose to care about.  I mean how could I know what it was like to not have a boyfriend? How could I know what it was like to not be ‘smart’ enough to pass my college exams?  How could I know what is was like to have non-supportive parents?  I had all of those things and more.  I look back on who I was before INFERTILITY and I hate myself for my ignorance, for my lack of empathy, and my entitlement.

I have vowed to my children in heaven, my future children on earth, myself, my husband, and my friends to never be that person again.  I want to live a thousand lives in one.  I want to love so deeply and care so much for others (even complete strangers)  that I feel like I am living the hardships of their life.  To hurt when a friend hurts, to cry when a friend cries, and hope when a friend hopes. Not to simply think, “man, that sucks, glad my life isn’t like that.”  My INFERTILITY has allowed me to do this.  When a friend loses their job I can understand the feelings of restlessness, helplessness, and loss.  When a longtime friend has gone through their third breakup and feel like they will never find ‘the one’, I can help them because I know how it feels to feels to be lonely.  I want to be the kind of person that anyone can reach out to in their time of need. That is how I will get to live a thousand lives in one.

I pray that each of you find a way to turn your tragedies into a blessing.  It’s a struggle for me every day, but little by little I’m getting there.

Due Date

The day is here.  Our due date.

There is so much I want to say and so much I feel.  But at the moment words fall short of describing how I feel today.  I really didn’t know how I would feel when this day came.  The day is nearly over and I still don’t know how I feel. I want to have a pity party but at the same time I don’t.  I had it in my mind that I wouldn’t go to work today. In fact, I took the day off.  But I got up today and decided to go to work instead of staying home. I think it was a good choice, just to get on with my day. The truth is, I really don’t feel any different today than I have for the past 200 some days.  There are moments of sadness, happiness, fear, hopefulness, anxiety & gratefulness. I feel all of these things in a given day.

I guess maybe I feel pressured to be grieving ‘more’ today because theoretically I should be holding my child in my arms at this very moment.  The reality is today feels 100 times better than the first few months after our loss.  I have had time to come to terms with my reality.  Don’t get me wrong, today is a bittersweet day.  I wish more than anything that ‘he’ would be here.  I wish I could see the that proud look on my husband’s face.  I wish for all of those feelings and blessings that comes with bringing a child into the world.  Instead, I am here.  With an empty womb, but NOT an empty heart.  My heart is so full.  I love that little babe and I always will.  I think about ‘him’ every day, sometimes with a smile and sometimes with a tear.  Lately, I have been thinking so much about living a life that I can be proud of.  Not only for me, but for him.  I think people change when they have children, I changed by not having them.

Opening up to my family and close friends over the last few months have been such a blessing to me.  I have been overwhelmed today with gifts and sentiments from friends and family alike telling me that they are thinking of me and they love me, and that our children will always have a special place in their hearts. How cool is that?  I know I am blessed to have the support system that I have. I couldn’t ask for better.

It does help to know that at this very moment I am creating half of our next child(ren) inside of me.  Today was my day 6 of stims and my 1st ultrasound.  It looks like I’m cooking up 10 nice size eggs already!  I can already feel those follicles growing and expanding. It’s so exciting to know that I felt them when they we only half me and that I consciously thought of them as a future person.  I think that is a perk to IVF that others don’t get to experience!

My best moment today was the time I spent writing in my journal to Baby Rio.  I write every so often to him, but today’s entry was particularly special.  Overall, I feel blessed to have been a Mom even if it was for a short while.  He will always hold the most precious and unique place in my heart.

 

A Beginning doesn’t have to mark an End

We are officially a ‘go’ for our 2nd IVF cycle. I’m entangled in the crazy that all of this brings. Even though it may seem strange that I get a little giddy at this point in the process, I simply can’t help myself. After returning home from our appointment I immediately hung our protocol calendar up in the bathroom. I got a little too excited unpacking that ginormous box of vials, needles, & syringes. And I am constantly counting down the days until stims start. 4 days. 4.   

Maybe I’m excited because I still believe that even though it didn’t give us a baby like we hoped before, that it will this time. Or that it will lead us to a conclusion and on to another path that will lead us to Baby C. I have NO DOUBT that God has a perfect child planned perfectly for us! I am really hopeful that this IVF cycle is the one that creates our first child. 

We are doing a freeze all cycle so it takes some of the pressure off. I know I won’t be pregnant by the end of this cycle which is strangely a relief. It’s a relief that I don’t have to worry about the TTW or about a miscarriage at this point. I still don’t think I’m ready for that emotional roller coaster. We are just praying for several (preferably 8) 5-day blastocysts and and hopefully 1, just 1 normal embryo! Just one-we got this! 

But, amidst the chaos of emotions brought forth by IVF, there is one reoccurring theme in my mind. Honoring my children in heaven. As of late, it’s become very important to me to think of them as a continuation of myself. Even though they are not here, even though I can’t hold them, even though I can’t see their faces, I feel like their souls are in my soul. I feel them. A few weeks back I attended a painting class. This is the picture we were asked to paint.  

 I couldn’t help think of my two little baby birds. I will cherish this forever and carry them with me for life. 

As I mentioned earlier I’m relieved that we have a freeze all cycle, mostly because I’m scared of loss again. But also, because I fear that beginning anew will close the page on the last chapter of my life which includes those sweet babes. I don’t want them to be at an end. I’m getting closer to being ready because I know that as I carry them in my heart my love for them could never end even with the beginning of new life. 

So here’s to a new beginning and not to an end. 

Let’s Just Take a Drive

“I have a surprise for you!” My husband exclaimed when I got home from work. Normally, when he gets excited about something it’s not a good thing. It normally involves him buying a new machine for his business or some farmer gossip that doesn’t really interest me. This time his excitement was no different. I knew it was bad when he led me to his garage. Trying to be hopeful, I thought, ‘Maybe it’s a new cat.’ Upon entering the garage I find a Jeep Wrangler. Not a new jeep, mind you, with cruise control, automatic transmission, heated seats, or even a CD player. Nope. This bad boy was straight out of 1987, equipped with a non-working heating system, a broken driver’s seat, missing running boards, and a purplish-reddish paint job! He was over the moon, I was frustrated. “What did you pay for this?” I asked. “Nothing, Dad gave it to us.” I’m not a big ‘toy’ person. Boats, campers, jeeps, snowmobiles are not really my thing, so I wasn’t all that impressed.  I was mostly worried that it would drain our already thin pockets. After all, we just bought a house and two new vehicles this year. Despite my reservations, we kept it, of course. 

Today, almost exactly three years later, that ‘burden’ of a surprise my husband had for me is all I want at the moment. As life would have it, it didn’t take me long to completely & absolutely fall in love with Jeeping.

  You probably can’t tell but this picture was taken just a few short days after we lost our first baby Rio. The pain, the heartbreak, the tears, and the restlessness fades away for me as I’m riding in our jeep. There is just something peaceful that happens with the sun on my shoulders, the wind in my hair, the smell of life in the air, my favorite song on the radio, and my main man beside me at the wheel. Even my most tragic and complicated days disappear when we take off down the road. I can’t explain it any better than that. 

So far this week I’ve been in a funk. I’ve been missing my little ones in heaven more this week than I have in a while. I think the winter blues are setting in and  I realized today that I just need to take a drive! I want to be outside and feel close to life again.  I want to feel the hope and peace I feel every time we ride in our jeep. Until the days get longer and the weather gets warmer I will hold on to the memories of our summer rides together and hope that those memories will be enough to sustain me and keep me warm when I’m feeling sad or discouraged about our upcoming ‘banking’ IVF. I pray that the hope of spring keeps me alert for the miracles to come in my life.  

My father-in-law will never know how much the gift he gave us a few years ago continues to heal my soul everyday. I hope everyone has that thing that strengthens and heals them in their time of need like I do. If not, I pray that you find it. 

I shouldn’t be here?

‘I shouldn’t be here.’ That thought creeps in my mind every now and then.  It comes without a moments notice.  Last night, as I was removing my eye liner and starring in the mirror, I thought ‘this isn’t where I’m suppose to be.’  Sometimes when I go for a run I think, ‘I shouldn’t be able to do this right now.’  That thought pisses me off, so I run harder.  I see a beautifully pregnant woman at the store and think, ‘is that what I would look like now?’ I walk past the ‘nursery’ and see the memorial of our two precious babies and think, ‘this room should have a crib.’  Those thoughts hit me from time to time.  But after those thoughts, I get contradicting ones.

I think, ‘I can’t imagine not being here.’ Sure, I can imagine anything, I can imagine I could fly if I wanted to.  Maybe I can’t believe that not being here is where I’m suppose to be.  Sometimes, when I see that pregnant woman I think, ‘that’s her life, not mine, not yet.’  When I see our memorial, I know that those two beautiful children existed and that our souls are connected in a way that is different and special than it would be if they were alive. I think about my upcoming due date and can’t believe that right now I would probably have everything prepared, and to be honest, I don’t even know what all of those things are! (a blog topic for another time)  The life of infertility and loss has become my reality so much that, sometimes I can’t believe what life would be like now if I were pregnant.  I think, ‘this is who I am.’  This is where I’m suppose to be, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.  It’s not like I am here by choice.  I didn’t choose this life for myself, it was made for me.

When I make a choice or choices and I end up in a place I don’t want to be, it makes sense to say, ‘I shouldn’t be here.’ Like when  I decided to stop eating healthy and stop running and working out and then gained nearly 20 lbs from this time last year, yeah, I’m not suppose to be here!  I shouldn’t have given up.  I could come up with a long list of excuses,

1) no strenuous activity was allowed with my FET

2) my back/butt hurt from the PIO injections

3) pregnancy gave my food cravings & aversions

4) I was too depressed to get back in the routine

The list goes on and on.  And now, I have to live with the results of my actions, I have to live with regret.  I have to work my ass off, literally, to get back to a place that I worked so hard to get to in the first place!  That is a place I SHOULDN’T BE!  I had a choice.  I could have gone for walks. I could have done modified versions of exercise. I could have drank A LOT less beer.  I’m not beating myself up over it, but instead justifying that my thought of ‘I shouldn’t be here’ shouldn’t pertain to things that are out of my control.  Again, I didn’t choose the life of loss & infertility, it just happened to me.  For a reason? I believe so.  So I feel as though I shouldn’t look at myself in the mirror and think, ‘I’m not suppose to be here.’

Ten years from now, when I think about my life with Brett, I don’t want to look back on those 4+ years of trying to make a baby and think that it was a place that we weren’t suppose to be.  I don’t want my time with my husband to be a time of regret because I didn’t achieve my goal of giving birth to a living child.  Who am I to question the blessings that God has given me?  Who I am to say ‘ I wasn’t suppose to be there.’?  Because, I believe I am.

Dear friends, do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed.

1 Peter 4:12-13

 

 

Two Week Recap

The past two weeks have been a much needed distraction. Two weeks off of work for Christmas Break, our anniversary trip to Chicago, the holiday parties, catching up with good friends, and our New Years’s Eve weekend at my sisters have definitely served to keep mind from thinking too much about our future. I wish the two week wait would go by as quickly as these last two weeks have! 

The teacher in me asks; So what have I learned? 

1) In our trip to the city to celebrate our six years of marriage I was reminded yet again that our love for each other is by far strong enough to get through anything. We grow closer everyday. We have every reason in the world to drift apart, but we don’t. What a blessing. Several of my close friends iterated to me that they see us as a couple that can do anything. I am proud that people see us in that light. Our marriage has always been my number one priority and it’s comforting to know that I am succeeding in at least one aspect of my life. Here’s to hoping year number 7 is a lucky one for us! 

  

2) During our family Christmas gatherings, I basked in the glow of my love for them and their love for me. Brett’s family is so kind, inviting, laid back, and genuine. We spent a few hours on Christmas Day going through a family history scrapbook. It was marvelous. My heart was filled with wonder as we saw photos of great grandparents and the like. It was bittersweet in a way though, knowing that I may be the one to end the continuing of such a proud family name. For some reason, though, I know that I won’t. My family Christmas, as always, was a blast! Between my two siblings and their SOs we are all 7 years apart, top to bottom and no one has kids! So lots of drinking and games ensued. My family is the next most important thing in my life, besides my marriage. My siblings and their SOs are without a doubt my four best friends. How cool is that? Maybe this fork in our road to baby will lead us to a life where our kids can be the same age as their cousins? That would be an adventure. 

3) It’s about to be a new year. So what have I learned from this one? I remember that at this time last year I was the most hopeful person I had ever been. I mean we were doing IVF-our problems would be solved! Baby C would be here by year’s end! How quickly, that hope faded with 3 failed IUIs and 2 IVF transfers both ending in miscarriage. For some reason, I can’t put my finger on it, but I’m feeling hopeful again. In just this past month, we’ve become more open to the idea of pre-implantation genetic screening, embryo adoption, and even traditional adoption. We know now that the road won’t be easy. We know that we might not get exactly what we want, when we want it. I’m sure that there will be surprises along the way this year but this time I’m aware of that. I have learned that God gives us peace beyond all understanding, which is where I am at now. At peace. It’s okay if it takes years for our miracle. It’s fine if we fail. God has a plan for our life, he promises to give us a hope and a future. I’m grateful for the relationship I’ve had with God this past year-something I never truly considered before, when my life was going just the way I had planned. It’s crazy how much I learned about myself and my life in just two weeks time. 

I pray that the new year brings a vast amount of hope, love, and peace to my life and to yours as well. 

The Breakdown

Today, I had my second D & C in 4 months.  I am currently riding the anesthesia high. That’s what I call it any way.  I always feel ‘good’ right after a surgery, a sort of buzz and I am constantly hungry.  It’s strange to feel good on one of the most horrific days of your life.  That’s why I am taking tomorrow of off work, not because of the physical pain but because of the emotional pain that I know I will feel when I wake up in the morning.

So now, I’m just waiting for the breakdown.  It took me nearly 8 weeks last time for the breakdown.  For me, it happened after I had felt like I accepted the fate of our 1st child.  I was happy.  I was running a lot-getting back to the old me.   I was out and about socializing with my friends and family.  Then one day, BANG!  It hit me. ‘The Breakdown.’  To me,the breakdown was about how I felt about myself and my poor pitiful life.  It wasn’t necessarily about missing Rio, it was but it wasn’t.  It was more about how mad I was that I couldn’t control my life and how no matter how much I thought I deserved it, I couldn’t get what I wanted.   I just don’t want to feel sorry for myself.  I don’t want to feel bitter about our situation.  That is what I am praying for the most right now, that I can grieve our loss without making it seem like I am the only one in the world who is struggling.  I don’t want to breakdown THAT way.

I pray that I can honor our children by being a strong person.   To me, a strong person, isn’t someone who ‘get’s over it’.  A strong person isn’t someone who doesn’t cry and holds in their feelings. A strong person isn’t someone who keeps pushing simply to push. To me, a strong person is someone who can learn from life’s adversities, someone who can use their own struggle to help others. Someone who can see God’s plan and not their own and have the patience to wait for God’s perfect timing.

I pray that I don’t give up on our dream because I’m scared or tired.  Which I am very much, scared and tired all of the time.  But more than that I want to become a better person because of this.  I want it to fill my heart with love for others and everyday miracles.

I don’t want to breakdown.  Mourning our children is hard enough.