32

I turned 32 last Friday, just five short days after my sweetheart turned 32, and just ten short days after my little man turned 3. It was a four day weekend from school, and although we didn't have any big plans, we were going to go out and do something fun as a family on Saturday since Brent's days off lined up with my time off for once. 

I slept late that morning since Chandler did too, and I enjoyed breakfast with my boys. I even got dressed to go workout and run a few errands. The plan was for Chandler and I to get out of the house for a bit while Brent slept from working the night before, and then we would decide how to spend the rest of our weekend. It was my birthday after all, and birthdays are meant to be fun and special,  especially if they happen to fall on the weekend, right?

       But then, my plans got interrupted...again.

A familiar but unwelcome guest came to our house. I began to sob at the kitchen table as the reality of what was about to occur sunk in. I told Brent that I was scared. Chandler looked at me sweetly and said, "What's wrong Mommy? You not feel good? You crying?". I would be lying if I didn't question why this was happening to me again, especially on my birthday, and especially when I work so hard to be a good mother and a decent human being.  You see, when you have been through as many miscarriages as I have (six total now), it doesn't take a doctor or ultrasound technician to tell you what is happening. You learn how to read the signs, and the signs aren't nice ones. Even though I saw and heard a strong healthy heartbeat just ten days prior, on Chandler's 3rd birthday, that afternoon, on my 32nd birthday, while Chandler was playing at his Nana's house,  my heart broke into again as we saw that our baby was no longer living.  

So, although 32 is probably not the most memorable birthday for most individuals, it is one that I will never forget. 

My doctor came in and shook his head. Like us, he had been praying that this was it for us. He's been there with us since the very first time back in March of 2008, and it gives me great comfort to know that he really does care and that he really does pray for me. He's told me more than once that I have changed the way he practices medicine. I have proven him wrong too many times, unfortunately.

He briefly went over our options, more out of requirement than necessity, and I chose once again to take the drugs that would help me miscarry at home. Although there is no good way to go through the process, at least this method allows me to suffer privately without having to wait several days and then be put under anesthesia. (I've done it that way twice, and although the procedure itself really isn't all that bad physically, the wait is very hard to endure for sure.)

Brent took me home and got me settled in before going to pick up Chandler. My big boy was so excited to be bringing home pizza. He came running in and told me what they had gotten.  I did okay, too, until he said his sweet little blessing over the meal, and then I lost it even though I told myself I wasn't going to do that in front of him. Again, in his sweet little voice he asked me if I was okay. 

I lied and said that I was. I couldn't tell him anything else. 

Thankfully, I did pull myself back together, and Chandler never knew the difference. His Daddy took over the evening and bedtime routines for the most part, and he absolutely loved it! I am just glad he didn't know what was to come later in the night. 

I wish I could have escaped it, too.

 So, on February 15, 2013 (or maybe even a few days before that), Chandler's 6th sibling went to heaven to be with Jesus. That's what keeps me going sometimes. I believe they will all be in heaven to greet me when it's my turn to go. 

My four day weekend certainly didn't turn out as I had planned, but it did end up being a blessing that I didn't have to go back to work until Tuesday. I needed that time to grieve. I needed that time with my boys.

 I am doing fine, and my life has pretty much gotten back to normal, whatever that means. Lots of individuals have promised to keep us in their prayers, and so many people have offered such kind words to us in this time of grief. I want everyone to know that we do appreciate all of it. We certainly feel the love of others, and it's wonderful to know that God has us in His hands right now even though we don't understand why we are having to go through all of this. 

If I find out the answer this side of heaven, I will be sure to let you know!

Sometimes I want to talk about all of it, and sometimes I don't. There are still days that hurt worse than others, and there are lots of dates that bring back painful memories, but thankfully I do have lots of happy memories with the sweet little boy that God has blessed me with. Like I have always believed, even before all the trials, he is my little miracle, and his Daddy and I love him with all our hearts. He is one special little boy!