Silence...not a good thing some days

This morning started off pretty good! Laughter, smiles, giggles...it was wonderful. Then Evan went for his morning nap, Brett was out, the dogs were sleeping and there was no noise in my house. And it hit. That overwhelming wave of sadness that just hits in an instant with no warning and no stopping it. And then the whispers of lies from the enemy "where was the miracle for you son? Your sons will never play together. No one will remember Zac..." WOW...those whispers were pure toxic and I almost fell for them! I almost started to believe that we weren't "worth" it. Then a friend...(who I've never even met in real life!) reminded me how much Zac's life has impacted people, and from that, he will never be forgotten. And that although my boys may never get to grow up together here on earth...they will play together in eternity. I had also receive a precious email from my most special NICU nurse who lovingly reminded me that we loved Zac the best that we could and we looked beyond our own selfish desires and saw what Zac just couldn't take any more. That we loved him unconditionally, and unselfishly. I know these things are coming up because I'm being faced with these quick approaching 1 year milestones and memories. Our first and last picture at Christmas with both boys inside me, the night my water broke, the weeks in the hospital, the night I went in to labor and Zac went in to distress, the days of wondering and being called urgently to the NICU each time Zac began to crash, and then the morning we were told the worst news ever...and the day my faith was shaken to the core. Yet in these markers of sadness there are markers of joy. The 28 weeks I got to have with both my boys. Rocking them in my glider chair that I had dreamed of having for almost 10 years! Then while in the hospital the daily NST tests that allowed me to hear Zac's heart beating and him hiccuping. Watching the boys on weekly ultrasounds. Feeling them stretching, kicking, and moving all over the place, and then when they were sleeping and I wanted reassurance I would put my ipod earphones on my belly and play music to wake them up! :) Watching Doctors amazed that I was still there in the morning...for 5 weeks. And in the fear of the days when the boys were born I also got to marvel at Evan...this precious boy who was doing so well, when he was unknowingly and unprepared to enter a world he didn't belong in that early. The gift of my boys, although time with Zac was far too short. Now days are filled with wonder as I watch Evan just taking in everything around him, and watching him grow...and seeing the strength he posses. You see...I am greatful. It's not all just focused on the sadness and the grieving. Yet, just as my sons were meant to grow up hand in hand...I am now in a place where my sorrow and joy go hand in hand. It is the way it is. And although some may think I sound like I'm "wallowing" or not focusing on Evan...this couldn't be farther from the truth. Again, I am a mother with one son in her arms and another who I will never hold on this earth again. We each have our burdens to carry. I'm fortunate to have an amazing husband to walk beside me and pick me up when I feel I am falling down. I have this amazing child that gives me reason to breathe. I have wonderful family who help us out and who love Evan to bits and pieces with us! What would I do without them! Christmas time isn't always the rosy cheer-filled season that the TV advertises or the cards print out. Sometimes people are hurting and they are left to feel a sense "abandonment" almost. I think of others who have experienced recent loss of loved ones, people who are praying for their own miracles, people struggling financially or with health issues, people who don't have a home or money to buy their children presents with. People who won't get a nice turkey dinner or cards or gifts. I just wish I could do something for each one of these people. No one should have to feel alone. If we could each just do one thing for one person...think of all the people who would feel like they actually matter! Through my grief, I have been blessed. And for that I am greatful.