I am still confident of this:
I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.
Wait for the Lord;
be strong and take heart
and wait for the Lord
Psalm 27: 13-14

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

This is love...

So due to the fact that we have no proper family style photos of us, and one was requested by one of my sister-in-laws, we quickly asked a friend of ours to come over and snap a few pictures for us.
These are a few.
Right here...in these photos...this is love.
Not even 3 weeks after losing Faith, I can be in this photo and smile, and mean it.
Because of my husband, and my son...and yes, even my dogs.
I can smile.  And mean it.
Do tears still come?  Of course they do.
We just lost our baby, our fifth baby. 
Tears will always come.
Five years later I still weep for our triplets that we lost.
That will never change, because they were (are) our babies, and because I will always be their mommy.
I love each of our babies.
And time will never change that.
Tears will always have a place.
Because each of our children have a place in our hearts and in our family.
But here in these photos...my heart overflows with love, and with joy.  Because in these photos, not only does it reflect who I love, but who I am loved by!
This little family of ours is the reason I breathe.
This family encourages strength, and hope, and love, and the fight to face each new day with grace and mercy and determination.
This little family of mine,
they keep me breathing.
They keep me smiling.
They keep me hopeful.
They keep my wrapped in love.
I am blessed,
and I am grateful.

Thursday, December 13, 2012

Not spoiled...CHERISHED!

"Some say I'm spoiled...
Mom calls me CHERISHED."

It has been said time to time that Evan is "spoiled".
Let me be clear, that this has never been said in a rude way, or ever implying that Evan is ungrateful or demanding in "things". 
No, not at all.
In reality, generally what Evan may want...within REASON, Evan gets.
I'm not even going to be embarassed by that. 
Or apologetic.
Or even agree with the term "spoiled".
I was laughing with my older brother and my mom one day saying how I don't think Evan is "spoiled" at all...
to me he is just plain ol' CHERISHED
My brother told me I should have a t-shirt made!
And the other day...I finally did! :)
And I love it!! 
And to me, there is a BIIIIIIG difference between spoiled and cherished.  I'm sure there are some who would shake their heads and say otherwise...but honestly...I really don't care :)
First, even though Evan is a SIBLING, he is still an only living child.
Therefore, he has not had the fortune of gaining an older siblings toys or clothes.  He has had to start from scratch.
Nor does he have a living younger sibling to inherit his treasures that he has outgrown.
Granted, a lot of the younger infant/toddler type toys he DID inherit from his cousin!  Sooooo, that "spoiled" title does not truly fit.
I won't say that I'm embarassed by what I purchase for Evan.  Nothing is ridiculously expensive or extravagant.
And in all honesty...why WOULDN'T I want to indulge my son time to time?  It's not like we are out shopping every day.
I DO understand the value of a dollar and don't want Evan thinking you just go buy whatever you want WHENEVER you want it.  I am trying to teach him that you can't always have your way and sometimes you need to earn certain things.
But seriously...he is not even FOUR yet...do you think he understands my logic?
Though the times I DO say "not today buddy"...there is no fit-throwing.  There is no lay-on-the-floor tantrum.  There is no "I hate you mommy".
Just an, "ok mommy, but I'd really like that such and such".
But when I am able to treat my boy to a toy that lights up his face with excitement and I hear "OH THANK YOU so much mommy!!"...are you kidding me??!!  Of COURSE I enjoy that.
My son has been through a lot in his less than four years.
My son has known disappointment, struggle, loss...
So if I can indulge him with a toy here and there or a new learning game for his leap pad...you bet your pants I'm going to light him up!
No, not at all.
To me...purely cherished.
And I am more than honored and grateful for this little boy whom I am able to grant a gift from time to time outside of Christmas and his birthday.
I will never apologize for that :)
We have been through hell to make it to the day we could treat a child of our own to a toy or new shirt.
We have our one living child to lavish on.
Five we wish could be passing on toys between the six of them.
We would love to have hand me downs and pass me overs going through each of our six childrens hands.
But that is not the way it is.
So I will never be sorry for loving on my Evan!
And I will never term him spoiled.
He is purely, 110% cherished beyond measure.
I don't just teach him to ask for himself.
He is with me when we do our NICU donation in honor of Evan and Zac's birthday.
He comes with me at Christmas time to take our homemade baking to the NICU parent waiting room to spread some cheer in a place that is not always so cheerful.
We purchase the food hamper item for the Food Bank donation at the grocery store.
I tell him how other children are not as fortunate and we have to always remember to be thankful, grateful and learn to pass on what we may no longer use, but someone else may cherish.
I'm not raising him to expect things to be dished out to him.
I'm raising him to have a tender heart to others.  To respect others.  To be thankful for the gifts he does receive.  But that it isn't the importance of "things" because things will always fade away.
But if we are in the store and he sees a Hot Wheels car that lights up his face...I will gladly give up my $3.00 coffee to grant him a $2.00 car that day!
He is my everything.
And I am just so thankful for this little boy.
I dreamed for SO many years of the hope of one day being able to buy my own child something.
It took 10+ years, and great heartache.
So I will be the first to say...
Evan is truly CHERISHED :)
No doubt about it! 

Friday, December 7, 2012

5 years already...how can that be?

December 6, 2007
Loved, cherished, remembered always...
How can five years pass so fast?!
It goes so fast.
And yet...it's as clear today as it was that awful day when we were told your little hearts had stopped beating.
The pain "changes".
Time does "heal" in a way.
Life finds laughter and joy and hope again.
Then...more loss, and the confusion starts all over again.
Though my pain has found it's "normal" with missing my sweet Jadon, Ethan and Jack, it doesn't change the very real fact that my heart still aches for our first miracles lost on this earth.
It is hard to fathom that heaven holds 5 of our 6 precious babies. 
It is hard to "accept" that these little lives live only through our hearts and memories.
It is hard to wait for the day that I will finally meet these precious angels.
I got to know Zac for the 28 weeks I carried him and Evan.
I got to see his precious eyes look for us as he heard our voices.
I got to hold him as his heart slowly stopped beating and he entered heavens gates.
He knew my voice. 
He knew my touch.
He felt my love.
I wonder if Jadon, Ethan, Jack and now most recently our sweet Faith knew how very much I loved and wanted them.
How very much they were, and are, cherished by their mommy and daddy.
I wonder if they could feel my love inside of me, and hear my heart.
Things I can only wonder until one day I can ask them.
Though our time together was not nearly long enough...I cherish the time I had with each of our babies.
And though Evan is too young to truly understand that he is a brother in many ways, one day he will.  And I pray that one day he will realize how valuable life is...the very second it is conceived.  I know he will know that.  Because we know it.  We believe it.  We live it.
He will know what a special brother he is.
A little brother to Jadon, Ethan and Jack.
A twin brother to Zac.
And now a big brother to Faith.
It isn't the way I hoped he would be a brother.
I wished he would have known the joy of a living sibling...squabbles and all.
I dreamed and prayed for the day he would have a sibling to watch over.
I don't know if that dream will ever become a reality.
In the depths of my heart I feel that prayer is being shut.
One can still hope...but when hope seems so lost, how do you keep on?
But for Evan's sake...and ours...I still whisper a silent cry that God would possibly consider blessing us just one more time with a LIVING child once again.
But if that is not His plan...I pray that He will bring very special friends and people in to Evan's life.
That his life will be filled with positive influences, incredible friendships, laughter, love, and one day a precious family of his own.
Time goes so fast.
It's hard when memories are so clear in your own mind, but you feel sad that they may be forgotten by others.
Though I suppose that is the way it goes sometimes.
But my memories will never fade.
My children will always be a part of me.
They were part of my body, even for short times.  But we shared this body. 
And they will forever share my heart.
Remembering many who hurt from the loss of a loved one this season.
Praying God's tender touch on all of our lives as we struggle to rejoice in the meaning of this season while we ache for the ones we can no longer hold, touch or see.
But memories can never be stolen.
Moments can never be taken away.
Praying God's peace and presence and blessing on us all!

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

What was, what was dreamed, what will never be...

October 17, 2012
Transfer Day
Such excitement and hope...

Our first photo of Faith...day of transfer.  A hatched blastocyte.
Our second photo of Faith...November 19, 2012.  Our precious baby and her precious beating heart of 100 bmp.
And yes...the test AFTER I knew from my blood test that I was pregnant.

As I went through old keepsakes, I found this pink hoodie and onesie and I remembered...

Today is a day I just wanted to run from.
My baby's remains were being picked up from the pathology lab by the funeral home so that Faith's remains can be cremated.
My baby was cremated today.

I should be 9 weeks pregnant tomorrow.
But I'm not any more.

I should still be excited about my clothes getting tighter.
But instead I went and bought smaller jeans today.
And I hated it.
I hate that my belly will not be growing with my baby.

And then this afternoon, my puppy, Nash, reminded me how life can literally feel like walking through fresh crap.
As I tried to choke down tears of the reality of life right now so Evan didn't see tears in my eyes...I stepped right in to a fresh pile of my dogs crap on my carpet.
In my bare feet.
I just stood there...stunned, and disgusted.
Very much like how I feel with having lost Faith...stunned, and disgusted with the cruetly of it all.
And while I washed my foot off in the tub...I started to laugh...and cry.
What else can you do?! 
I thought this accident very fitting for the current events of our life and the knowledge my baby is now in an urn.

I look at the above pictures, and it feels like forever ago.
October 17th...transfer day.
I was realistic.  Prepared for yet another negative result.
But I had this renewed feeling of hope that I hadn't felt in so long.  I felt hope.

I love that first picture of Faith.  This is what your baby looks like prior to nestling in to your endometrial lining and growing for what seems to be such ease for so many people.  How lucky, and how blessed you are.
But how cool hey!? 
Look at your child right now, and see this picture of Faith...and realize this is how your baby began.
It's crazy!
Tell me there isn't a God who knits these precious little beings to life.
How intricate and delicate and fragile.

Then look at that second, and final picture we have of Faith.  November 19th.
There she is.  Growing, living...precious heart beating 100 beats per minute.
Life.  Precious life.
The first and final time we would ever see that beautiful flickering heart.  The first and last time we would see Faith growing inside of me.

I have to explain the hoodie and onesie.
The hoodie was going to be a baby gift for someone 10 years ago.  And I decided I loved it so much I just had to keep it.  I dreamed of a day I would get to put it on my daughter.  And it has sat in a bag ever since in my closet.
The onesie was something one of my sister-in-laws bought when I was pregnant with Evan and Zac...just in case one of them turned out to be a girl.
I had actually forgotten about that onesie until I took down the bag with the hoodie in it and found the box containing the onesie.

I've never had dreams about ME being pregnant.  I know I've said this before.  I know instantly when a friend is pregnant.  I've called it every time before it's even announced.  But me?  Nope, never.
Only after getting pregnant with Evan and Zac did I dream of two car seats covered by two white knit blankets.  I didn't even know I was pregnant with twins at that time.

And just over a year ago...I had a dream.
Brett and I in the delivery room.  Our baby being born.
I could hear her.  I could smell the room.  I felt the tears as they placed her on my chest.
A head of jet black hair like her daddy.  Steel blue eyes, like her daddy.
We held her and wept.

The week before I learned we lost Faith I was at church.  During worship it was like I could see a moment of our future.  One of the pastor's (who did Zac's funeral and then dedicated Evan) was holding up our daughter, facing her to the crowd, and sharing the miracle of her life.
It felt SO real.  I truly believed God was showing me that this baby was going to be ok.

But she's gone.
And though I know she is whole in heaven with her brothers...I am the one who is not ok.
We are faced walking this ugly, familiar path of grief and loss once again.
And it just feels so cruel and evil.
It's not fair.
Ya ya...life isn't fair, blah blah blah. 
Don't I know it.  I don't need to be reminded.  Every day holds pieces of reminders.

I'm tired.
I can't sleep.
My heart hurts.

Yes, Evan is my constant source of joy and love and healing and laughter and hope.  He is definitely keeping me together.

My husband is once again my rock in a storm.
We had just hoped so badly that we could have enjoyed this pregnancy, and enjoyed just ONE TIME a complication free and full term and LIVE birth of our child.
We are confused.
We are stunned.

I'm trying.
I'm trying to remember that God has not done this to "get me".  I'm trying to stay grounded in my faith.  I'm trying not to yell at Him too much.
I know He gets it.
I know He's big enough to handle my screaming and questions.

I'm just tired of these questions.


Saturday, December 1, 2012

Our baby is gone...

meaning "Belief in God and acceptance of God's Will"
October 17/12 - Nov 28/12
8 weeks was not long enough.
October 17, 2012...transfer day!  We went through our third FET with nothing but prayers for a miracle.  I will still dealing with lining issues, and this transfer still had me at the "less than optimal" range for success.
October 30, 2012...test day.
October 31, 2012 at 12:31am...I began to bleed and cramp heavily.  Yet, later that day I received a call that should have brought such amazing joy and tears of laughter...but brought confusion and fear and many tears.  I thought that our trasnsfer had not worked because of what was happening in my body.
And for the next 7 days we kept going for blood tests only to hear numbers were still rising very well.  I was not miscarrying.
BUT, the question/concern of an ectopic pregnancy arose.  So I was sent for an early ultra sound to rule out the baby in my tube.
Yes, even with IVF and FETs...ectopic pregnancies can and do occur.
At the ultra sound we were relieved to hear baby was not in my tubes, but the radiologist crushed us with news that it seemed my baby "was on the way out" as he so chose to phrase things.  Yet there was a "but".  BUT, IF the pregnancy continued, it would likely be dangerous to my health because of where it seemed the baby had implanted.
I was told to "wait it out" and repeat the ultra sound in 2 weeks.
For the first time I felt abandoned by my doctor.  (No, not my fertility doctor).
No mention of seeing me (we had only spoken on the phone since my positive result and then when she repeated what the radiologist had told us), no checking in on me in that 2 weeks.
Fortunately, my precious OG/GYN who cared for me with my previous high-risk pregnancies agreed to take me back on.  The receptionist was FLOORED that my doctor had not yet seen me and felt awful for me that I was left to feel written off (my words to her about what I was feeling).
Prayers began.  Many many prayers of family and prayer groups.  Feelings that baby and I had been healed and that we would see this pregnancy to its full term and we would greet our baby in July.
My due date was July 6, 2013. 
July 6th is also the birthdays of 2 of my nephews.  No, not twins.  One is one brothers, the other is my other brothers.  Just coincidence.
And I felt is so ironic that here my baby's due date was July 6th.  I figured surely nothing would go wrong, because how could I be asked to face every July 6th celebrating without our baby?
A week of no bleeding, and then on a Monday...bleeding.  SO, my OB's office got me in within the hour.
At that appointment I was checked over.  Things were seemingly ok.  We had an ultra sound...and we saw the gestational sac, yolk, fetal pole...and our precious baby's heart beat.  Flickering away right there in front of our eyes.  Beating.  Living.  Alive inside of me.
The biggest miracle...NO mention of the baby implanting anywhere "dangerous" for my health!  (This was a true answer to prayer this specific point!)
I was scheduled to return for another follow up ultra sound a week and a half later just to check baby's growth and have some more peace of mind.
And during that time I had no bleeding, cramping.  Nothing negative.
I continued to feel horribly nauseous and tired.
The precious feelings of pregnancy.
The day of my ultra sound I had the flashback of our ultrasound with our first twins. 
Things had been seemingly well, and at our 12 week ultrasound we were crushed hearing both babies had died.  I literally had no idea.  I had no symptoms that I had lost the babies.  We were side-swiped.  Stunned.  No reason.  Just "bad luck".
I saw that day flashing in front of me as we drove to the appointment.
My mom and Evan had come with me as Brett had been out of town for work.
I had hoped we were going to be able to record baby's flickering heart again for Brett to see, and to soon share with Evan that he was FINALLY going to be a big brother. 
The OB started the ultra sound. 
I knew. 
Instantly I knew.
She put her hand on my knee and said "Heather, I'm sorry, it's not good..."
8 days earlier from the day Brett and I were told the same thing with Ethan and Jack almost 5 years ago..."I'm so sorry"
Everything stopped. 
I began to cry.
My mom began to weep.
And Evan came to me and said "mommy, why are you sad?"
And instantly I had to kick in to "fight" mode.  I couldn't let my son see me like this.  Not the way I wanted to truly fall apart in that awful moment.
I told him "mommy had hoped to tell you something exciting, but I can't any more, and I'm sorry."
I asked the OB over and over and over..."are you SURE there is no heart beat?  Are you SURE?"
And 4 or more times she assured me that no, there was no more beating heart, and no growth since the previous ultra sound. 
I guess what totally made me realize this wasn't some awful mistake was when she said to me "I can hardly see the fetal pole anymore either"
There we had it.  The miracle we had been expecting, trusting, believing...was done.
There was nothing more to do...but grieve.
My mom, Evan and I walked through the OB's office with pregnant bellies in my face everywhere.  I'm sure women were understanding as they saw my swollen red face and tears rolling down my cheeks.
Oh how lucky each one of those women were. 
That was going to be me shortly. 
My belly was going to start popping out.
It should have been me.
And now, it's not.  Once again, for a 5th loss...it's not me.
And I don't know if it ever will.
November 29, 2012...facing the City Hospital once again.  Not to deliver a living baby, but to have the remains of my baby and tissue surgically removed from my body.
Again I relived my first loss.
And for a second time seeing on admitting papers "missed abortion".
Can a more degrading and brutally cruel word be used??  Abortion?
I hate, hate, hate, hate that term for a case like many women in my position and situation.
Could they not call it what it IS?  In a KIND and HUMANE way??
I had a missed miscarriage.
Or even more true to the fact...my BABY DIED!
The only "blessing" in that day was as my mom and I were sitting in my hospital room with a nurse taking all my information, the OB preforming my "procedure" walked in and my mom burst in to tears.  And instantly so did...because I knew...my mom knew this person.
It turned out to be a woman from our church, who my parents know.
My angel arrived in that day.
She and each of the OR staff in that room were my angels.  A nurse who had walked me to the OR from the OR waiting room asked about my past, and I shared with her our losses, what happened with Evan and Zac, and Zac's passing.
When we got in the room she said "this poor girl has been through a lot.  We need to really take care of her."
I went to sleep, and woke up empty.  Literally empty.  Any remaining hope of our baby was gone.  My belly was empty.  And I felt like another part of my heart died.
On Tuesday our baby's remains will be picked up by one of the funeral homes in the city, cremated and provided a dignified resting place at one of the cemeteries in the city.  I just wish it could be the same cemetery as Zac so I could visit them together.
But...I am grateful for what this funeral home does. 
It is the only thing I can do to dignify my baby's short life.
Before I even knew my pregnancy blood test was positive...I just knew if I was pregnant we were having a girl.
The second I heard I was pregnant...I knew she was our daughter even more than ever.
I don't doubt it for one little moment...she was, and will always be, our daughter.
Others shared that they felt the same...a girl.
My daughter is now in heaven with our 4 other children.
In my first pregnancy at our 6 week u/s we saw our identical twins heart beats. We also saw a second gestational sac, a singleton triplet, but sadly had lost this little one very early on.
When we learned our babies had died at our 12 week ultrasound, we named them Jack and Ethan.
Jack - "God is gracious"
Ethan - "Strong, firm, determined"
For the longest time I had not named our third singleton triplet. Because in reality...that is who this little one was/is. A triplet. But because people don't generally recognize a "blighted ovum" as what it truly is...a lost child, I never really brought light to this life. And I have felt ashamed by that.
And for a while I decided to name this little one "Whisper", because this precious one was gone before I knew he/she was even with us.
When we got pregnant with ^Zac^ and Evan, and when we found out they were for sure boys, Brett and I chose two names, again for the meanings.
Zac - Remembered by God
Evan - God is gracious
I didn't know who would be who, until our lives turned upside down with the complications of Zac and PROM. And when we designated the names to the boys, I never imagined Zac's name would hold such painful meaning. That God remembered him, but that we would never be bringing him home with his twin brother from the hospital. That 3 days would be all that we would have. And that Zac would leave this earth in my arms.
In all the time I felt this baby we were currently pregnant with was going to be a girl, I hadn't started thinking of names for her. I truly believed I would have had time to find the right, strong name for her as we grew together and I started to learn her personality growing inside of me.
Today I sat down and searched out biblical female names and meanings. I never thought it would be to name another baby in heaven.
Brett and I have chosen to name her "Faith". Again...it is because of the meaning, not necesarily the name itself.
The meaning recorded for this name on this website is:
FAITH - "belief in God and acceptance of God's Will"
We chose this name because we choose to NOT let the devil tear us down from our faith in God through the loss of our daughter Faith.
I also chose this name because it has given me a challenge - To accept God's Will.
I am struggling HARD with this. I can't understand why it was God's will to allow us this precious angel only to ask for her back home with him. For a FIFTH time we have been asked to accept that God called his child home before we would ever know her. And I'm struggling.
I need this challenge. So I find naming our daughter Faith very fitting. Because I want her to know though I am broken from losing a future with her here on earth, I will cling to the fact that we will be together one day for eternity, so I must allow my heart over time to accept God's Will. 
Before I sat down at my computer to search names I also told Brett how much I hated the fact that I nicknamed our triplet "Whisper". I was actually feeling mad at myself that I hadn't chosen an appropriate name when we first learned we lost this little one.
Now, because this was a singleton triplet, and because I didn't have a strong feeling about what sex that baby might be, I decided we needed to dignify our child with a gender neutral, biblical name.
We have replaced the nickname "whisper", and have named our child Jadon, which means Thankful. Because even though I never saw this sweet one inside of that sac...I am still forever grateful and thankful for our baby's life.
We have officially named our final 2 of our 6 childrens names.
Jadon and Faith...I know you are loved by your brothers in heaven...but know that I will always always always hold you close in my heart. You are forever a part of our family, and I love each and every one of our heavenly angels.
It feels good to know that all of our children have their appointed names. Though I would give anything to be saying each of their names here in my home every day while they raced around and laughed and played together.
I am struggling.  I wouldn't be human if I wasn't.
But once again to have lost a child during the Christmas season while we celebrate the miraculous conception and birth of Christ...it's hard to understand why we didn't get our miracle fulfilled.
Is it wrong to want to love another child?
Is it wrong to want Evan to have a sibling?
I don't blame God.
I don't understand...at ALL.  But I don't blame Him.
I'm confused.  I'm sad.  I'm angry.  I'm hurt.  I'm broken.  And I ache all over again.
We have 5 babies in heaven.
Sure, one day we will have a full home.  But we just wanted to love our children here, together, on earth.
During this season...please, remember those who are dealing with pain in their lives. 
And pain does not mean that people are "dwelling on negative and should just be more positive and place their thoughts on positive thoughts and they wouldn't be consumed with pain". 
I hate that saying.  I saw that on a post once and I wanted to just throw my computer out, or find the creator of this saying and just scream at them.
No, those of us who are faced with grief, sorrow, loss, pain...it is not that we are dwelling on negative.
We are being forced to live in reality and figure out how to stay above water.
We fight to find a way back.
We fight to find hope again.
Be kind to those around you.
Those who are able to conceive and give birth...be oh so grateful.
I know you are...but I don't think most realize the depth of their fortune.
If you are pregnant...do NOT complain around other women.  You have no idea which of those women would give ANYTHING to experience what you are.
Do not take a second for granted and want to wish away time because you are uncomfortable.
Be thankful your baby is growing healthy and safe within you.
Don't wish away a day.
Yes, I know there are many who are thinking "you have Evan, you should be thankful".
#1 - why do people feel the need to remind me of what a miracle Evan is?  Do they not think I don't see that EVERY. SINGLE. DAY?  Do they not think I don't remember each of those 5 weeks in the hospital begging and pleading not to go in to labour because BOTH of my sons could have died?  Do they not think that I didn't fear for Evan's life each of his 66 days in NICU...and every day after he came home?  Do they not think that I don't see my miracle every waking moment?
#2 - who would ever question the depth of my gratitude and thankfulness for Evan?  I truly can't even imagine a person actually feeling the need to comment how thankful I should be.  Because that comment just shouldn't even be coming out of anyones mouth.  Really.
Evan is my heart, my joy, my breath, my laughter, my light...my hope.
If we are never blessed with another child...yes, that will hurt.  Because we just want to grow our family and add to our love and laughter.  And we want Evan to have a sibling.
But if that is not God's plan...it doesn't mean I won't love Evan any less, or feel our lives are not complete.
Another child would ADD to our family.  Not define it.
Another child would be precious.  But if we are being told "no"...then our family is as it is written out by God.
I wouldn't love Evan less or more if we had another child.
My heart aches because we DID have another child.  And we lost her.
And that hurts.
She wasn't a dream.  She wasn't imaginary.
She was real.  She was wanted.  She was...IS cherished.  She will always be a part of our family.
My one and only ultra sound picture of her with her beating heart will also be on our family wall. 
Because she is our child.
Our journey to have a family has been wrought with sorrow and joy.  A roller coaster of bitter-sweet.
Of hope, and hopes lost.
Of dreams, and dreams lost.
Of life, and of loss.
Jadon, Ethan, Jack, Zac and Faith...you are ALWAYS with us.
We will not hide your names. 
We will not pretend you never existed just because someone may feel uncomfortable if after asking if Evan is our only child and I say, "no, he is our 5th of 6.  A surviving twin, and our only living child".
If people feel they can ask about the number of children we have, then they better be willing to accept the reality of my answer.
Not because I want pity.  Good grief, pity is not for me.
Not because I want to make anyone uncomfortable, but because each of you ARE our children, and this is our family.
You are loved.  You are cherished.  You were wanted.
You are our precious children, our family.
To each of my children...all six of you...
Mommy loves you always!
And I am proud, and honored that I got to carry each one of you within me for whatever the days God allowed.