Gratitude in grief...

On Sunday Brett and I were at church, and as we stood to sing during praise and worship...a very "tricky" emotional moment hit...HARD.

As I looked in to the chior, there I came face to face with someone I both cherish and hurt from when I saw.

It was the face of the OB/Gyn who did my D&C at the end of November last year when we lost Faith.

I found my breath absolutely catching in my chest. Tears instantly welled up. My head began to feel like it was spinning.

I didn't know whether to run or just stand firm in that spot and focus on my worship to God, or the pain in my heart.

I stood firm in worship.

Don't get me wrong...I wanted to start asking all the "why" questions and allow the enemy to fill my head with feelings of confusion and hurt and anger. And for a long time I could not bring myself to sing aloud. But I knew I couldn't allow myself to bend to the enemy.

I refused.

In that moment, I felt something that caught me by surprise.

I felt gratitude.

Let me explain...

When we lost Faith, Brett was out of the country. I had gone for a follow up ultrasound after just seeing her precious beating heart a week earlier. We were just going to gauge her growth at that appointment as she was a tiny bit smaller than what my due date would have suggested.

At that follow up ultrasound, my mom had come with me. My mom had to witness baring the news of once again "I am so sorry Heather, it's not good news..."

And a whirlwind of events to follow as I chose another D&C option.

Brett was stuck out of country, so my mom came with me the day of my D&C.

I just remember pleading with God to send angels my way in the form of the nurses and staff, because how was I to bare the loss of our 5th baby?! I needed some earthly angels. I needed to know He cared in that moment.

Now, the first few nurses I dealt with...no, not angels at all. Actually...they should retire or quit...or at least not be in those settings. 

But as the admitting nurse was filling out my forms for the "procedure", in walked a woman. My mom looked up and instantly burst in to tears. And at that moment...I knew my angel had just arrived. It was the OB/Gyn...a woman my parents know well from our church. And I burst in to tears as well and looked at her and said "I have been praying for an angel. He sent me you."

The admitting nurse didn't even KNOW who the doctor was! She thought she was just a nurse to take me down to the OR. So she explained that no, she was the doctor, and she would take me down to the OR personally.

From the moment she took me down...more angels appeared. In the form of the OR nurse staff and anesthesiologist.

I shared about my losses with the first nurse who took me back from the OR waiting room, and she just wrapped her arm around me. When I got up on the table she said to the other women around her "this poor woman has been through so much pain...lets be extra caring".

(OK...I am now in tears as I recall this day.)

Now, back to Sunday.

As I looked at the chior and saw this OBs face...I felt so thankful that in the midst of such pain and heartbreak, God provided physical, earthly loving arms and people I knew were praying over me as Faith was removed from my womb.

I knew this OB/G was praying over me, and praying for the soul of Faith now in heaven.

I knew God was showing himself in a time of suffering and heart ache.

I knew He was with me, showing me that He loves me.

I looked at the face of this woman, and I thanked God for her.

I thanked God that it was her hands handling our baby girl, lovingly, gently and with prayers of blessing over her life.

Even though I would rather that her hands would have been handing Brett and I our daughter, alive and well and loudly crying this July (my due date was July 6th), at least I knew she was handled with hands that know and love the same God that we serve, and that in the moment of loss...she was still handled with love and care.

Yesterday I was talking to my mom and sharing how difficult that moment had been when I saw the Dr's face on stage, and my mom told me that the Dr has been asking about me and wanting to know how I was doing. That she thinks of me and prays for me often. And that she herself believes that day was nothing less than God's hand in the day. I guess she wasn't even supposed to be there that day.  And I remember her telling us as she took my mom and I down to the OR waiting room that she has never gone to get a patient personally.

God was there that day. Proving that in this time He loved me still. Proving that He was sending His protection and earthly care in the form of this OB and her OR staff.

He was there.

And Faith was cared for, loved, and dignified.

And so was I.

Loved always Baby Faith!!  xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

This and That...

Well, I am realizing how little I post here any more. 
Maybe because life is just too busy (for sure).
Maybe because life gets complicated (absolutely).
Maybe I get discouraged because I know the focus of this blog was to update so many who were praying, petitioning and encouraging me through my weeks in the hospital and then following the journey after the boys were born, Zac passing away, and the NICU journey of Evan...and the comments were encouraging to want to keep posting even after we got home.  But now...with no comments or feedback...I guess I wonder if there is any point to keeping this blog going.  I wonder if this blog has a purpose anymore.

Then again, maybe it isn't about who comments or wondering if people read this anymore. 

Maybe it is still a good outlet for myself.  Though these days I am finding myself far more guarded with my personal life.  So there are a few reason why I debate about keeping this blog going.

However, in the meantime...I sure hope that somehow this blog remains somewhat of an encouragement to someone. 


Lately I've been thinking about loss. 
For me, it has obviously been regarding the loss of our 5 heavenly babies.  But there are other losses I have encountered and endured in life.  Losses that have hurt my heart and left me confused and sad.  Losses that sometimes you just come to realize there is only so much one person can do.  And in order to care for yourself...you have to move forward and pray for the best solution that GOD can provide. 
I won't lie...I am a "fixer".  I want to take care of everyone and everything.  Sometimes at the cost of my own personal care.  I worry about others and carry others pains and burdens. 
And when I realize that my help or friendship is not enough to repair a situation, it's hard to accept.

But the lesson God keeps on trying to hammer in to my head is that it is HE who needs to be the healer.  Sometimes through me, and sometimes in other ways.  And when it is not particularly through me...it doesn't mean that I have failed.  It just means that I have done what I can, and now HE needs to carry on the way HE sees fit.

Over and over God keeps trying to get me to FINALLY accept that I can NOT control everything. 
I can NOT fix everything.
He is the one in control, and he is the ultimate Healer.
My job...is to continue to pray.  Sometimes that is all a person can do...pray. 
No matter how hard it is to step back.

I am to trust God.
I am to take my burdens, my worries, my cares, my hurts, my fears, my doubts...to HIM.

I am to thank God.
Thank Him for the many blessings in my life.  For years of health and protection.  For guidance.  For peace.  For comfort.  For security.  For safety.

I am to let go of that which I am not in control.

So today...it's yet another new day of letting go.

I may have to do this multiple times a week...but each day is a new start.  I have been granted that blessing in each morning I wake up.  Each day is a new day to BETTER myself, and not stay stuck in yesterday. 
Hurts remain.  Of course they do.  Loss hurts.  And He is not asking me to forget the ones I have lost on this earth.  BUT, I DO know that this will last only for THIS lifetime.  Because heaven is my home.  And there...life truly begins.  And I will rejoin with the ones I have lost on this earth.
Until then, I pray for the ones who struggle to find their way in Christ. 
I pray for healing and renewed spirits and minds.
I pray for protection and hope and a new sense of joy.
I pray that we would live lives that would honour God and His word.  Not live life one way to certain people, and then become the complete opposite to others.  That we would live with dignity and follow God's word and be pleasing to Him.

We are responsible for only our own actions and words.  We can't be responsible for others.

Today I own myself.  And today I release the burdens I have been carrying.

God will make something beautiful out of brokeness.  I know that with certainty.  He has created some precious master pieces in my own life with the brokeness of this heart.  And I will choose to honor Him!

Blessings!

March 9th...party day on earth and in heaven...

Birthday Day...for both of my boys...

Who ever thinks that they will celebrate their sons in such opposite meaningful ways in one day?

March 9th.

We threw Evan's 4th bithday party on March 9th.

But we began the day with celebrating, just the three of us, Zac's 4th Angelversary Day.

March 9th, four years ago...we said "see you in heaven" to our sweet Zac, our first born son, Evan's twin brother.

We started the day with heading out to the cemetery to release four balloons to heaven for Zac.

Evan releasing his balloons
 

It's strange how one can find a way to smile and find a strange sense of joy in such an act.  But there is something about at least being able to watch those balloons rise up to the skies, and just for a moment, pretend that Zac will reach out and grab them, or at least see them from heaven.

But the moment was precious, and cherished.

We then headed home where I started prepping and doing a mad-dash cleaning before our guests began to arrive.  The night before cleaning is useless to me in some respects, having 2 dogs, lots of snow and wet paws that enter the house.  So some stuff just has to be left.

The day was loud.  The day was full of 6 excited and lively children.

The biggest hit...the pinata! 

But as with every birthday comes that forever bitter-sweet ache in my heart. 

To watch my sweet Evan celebrating, being celebrated and enjoying his day...fills my heart with joy.

And in the same breath...feeling the ache of the spot missing beside him...the spot where Zac should be.  That silent ache that stays hidden in my heart, that stays masked behind the smile (don't get me wrong...the smile is truly genuine!)

But those are the emotions of a parent who has lost a child.  Especially on a birthday where your twin sons can not be celebrating together as they should have been.

I know it is more for my heart and my determination to have Zac a part of party days, but as usual, I made two birthday cakes.  One for Evan, and one for Zac.



 

 

This mommy heart just can't do one cake without the other.  It brings me joy and a bit of healing each birthday.  And maybe one day when Evan is older it will end...at least at parties, but for now while these parties consist mainly of family and close friends...I will continue.  And one day those cakes will be a private time for our family alone.

But...right now...I just can't end this tradition I have begun.

 

 

Though our sons may not sit side-by-side for birthday photos, and open gifts together, and we may not hear "Happy Birthday dear Evan and Zac..." when singing is going on...my sons will always be in my heart together on their birthday.  And each March 9th, Zac's Angelversary, will be a special time for our little family.

 

I am blessed by the lives of our children, though 5 will never celebrate birthdays here on this earth...we will celebrate one day together in heaven ALL of our children!

 

But this March 9th was filled with love, joy, gratitude, thankfulness and peace.

And it was pure heaven to watch Evan just so excited and having so much fun, and knowing we were celebrating his miraculous life here with us.  And I am so grateful.  So very, very grateful!

 

Mommy loves you my "little" boy!! xoxoxo

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Happy 4th Birthday my boy!! xoxo

 



Happy Birthday!!

At 10:50pm and 10:51pm on March 6, 2009...two looooooooong awaited precious little miracles dramatically entered this world 12 weeks early.

 

That's you and your brother, buddy.

 

I can not believe 4 years have gone by. 

 

At bed time daddy asked if you were excited to be 4.

And hearing that made me realize...this was your last night as my 3 year old!  And suddenly, tears welled up in my eyes. 

 

So, we snuggled in bed a little longer.  We did our letters in the sky a little longer.  We laughed a bit louder.  We chatted a bit more than usual.  And we fell asleep side by side.

 

And when I woke to come back out to finish getting things tidied, my heart just swelled.

I watched you a bit longer as you slept peacefully.

I went back in time in my mind from your and Zac's quick entry in to this world.

And each day, week, month and year that has followed.

 

Yes, my heart aches with missing your brother, and wondering.  Wondering who he would have been.  Wondering about his personality.  Wondering how life would have been with the two of you growing together, and celebrating another birthday side by side.

 

Yet, you fill my heart with such unspeakable joy.  I can not even put my feelings in to the right words.  You have brought your daddy and I such joy, such healing, such love...and we just cherish every single second we are blessed together with you!

 

I know your brother, and each of your 4 other siblings in heaven are watching over you, and us.  I know they want us all to be happy.  I know they are smiling down on us.  And that warms my heart as well.

 

You have grown up so much this past year.  It is incredible!  Your vocabulary, your speech, your thought process, your personality...your sweet sweet sweet little heart...just keeps growing and exploding.

Listening to you when we are talking together just blows me away.  And makes me feel so proud of you, and of the job daddy and I are doing.  We want the very best for you.  And we want you to be your very best.  To love others, to show fairness and compassion.  To grow in wisdom and determination.  To be surrounded by those who will build you up to be the man God desires for you, and who we desire you to be. 

 

We've had more milestones this year.  No more NICU follow ups for you!  You are all graduated.

You are almost done Wee College, and your independence and confidence just keep growing!

I enrolled you for Preschool in the fall!!!

AND you are enrolled for soccer!

 

You LOVE playing Xbox Star Wars Leggo with daddy.  And watching the two of you having fun and watching you play this game the way you do...it's bizarre!   So much "one of the guys". 

 

You are getting good at writing your name and working on all the letters.  You love to use your imagination.

 

Today when I picked you up from Wee College I watched as you were finishing up with your class.  You couldn't see me.  And I watched you at your table finishing your craft, then going to your mat before being dismissed.  Watching you raise your hand to answer a question.  And then when you turned and saw me in the window...the way your face lit up.  I don't ever want that to change.  I don't ever want you to lose that light in your face! 

I just felt my heart swell to the point of exploding.  I saw my little wonder, my 2lb little wonder in his isolette, now in preschool.  And my heart could barely contain all my emotion.

 

Every day is a new adventure.

 

Every day is a treasured gift.

 

You are a blessing we never thought we would ever know.

 

And Every. Single. Day...I am so very thankful.  So very thankful for the gift of you in my life.

And every single day I thank God for blessing you and your life.  For blessing me and daddy with the honour of raising you.

 

Yesterday I was watching you playing and suddenly I found myself texting daddy and thanking him for all of his hard work so that I have the treasure and honour of being able to stay home and raise you.

I could not stand a minute apart from you.  And I feel so blessed in being able to be a part of your daily life, and raising you.  It is my greatest joy!

 

It is 1:26am on the 6th.  Your birthday day.  And...I can't wait for you to wake up so we can start your birthday day together!!  I can't wait to wrap you in a big birthday hug!!!

Tonight we will have a birthday supper with the Grandparents.  And on Saturday is your birthday party!  You've been so excited about it!  Your Angry Bird themed party!  And I can't wait to get it ready!

 

Oh my sweet Evan...you are my heart and soul.  And though this day brings a bitter-sweet tug on mommy's heart, I am so looking forward to celebrating you and Zac! 

I don't think I will ever be able to truly voice how very much I love you, and how proud I am of you!!

 

Happy Birthday my boy!!!!!!!!

A new milestone...

NICU GRADUATION DAY!!!!

 

 

As those who follow know, because Evan and Zac were so premature, Evan was through the list of standard monitoring.

NICU follow ups with our Neonatologist.  Physiotherapy.  Speech Language.  Occupational Therapy.

All of which always found Evan within normal ranges for his corrected, and even often actual age. 

If I lost anyone there, because the boys were born 12 weeks (3 months) early, Evan has, until recently, been tracked by his corrected age.  That being, when Evan was 4 months, he was gauged at 1 month milestone.  6 months at 3 months...you get the idea.  Because birth wise...Evan and Zac should not have been born 12 weeks early...in an ideal world where life is fair.

HOWEVER, since that was not the case, this is how Evan has been tracked.  Making sure he had been meeting his corrected age milestones.

 

So of course I was always so proud to hear that more often than not he was meeting his actual birth age milestones.

 

Anyhow, lets move on from the corrected/adjusted/actual age.

 

Bottom line...Evan always did wonderful, with never issues of great concern. 

 

Relief for a mom who feared everything that COULD go wrong for my surviving son.

 

Evan has been finished with physio, OT, speech language (we only ever had two appointments for this as there were never concerns with his speech) for quite some time.  At least a year. 

Though NICU follow ups continued.

 

I often found myself irritated wondering when they would be done so we could just move forward with life, with the past in the past of NICU.

And so I felt that familiar irritation once again when I received the appointment letter for Evan for last month.

 

Though during the appointment, our wonderful Dr. Wonko said "well, generally I would track Evan until he turned 5 years, but really, we've never had concerns and he has always been consistent with things, so, this is it!  We are done with the follow ups!"

 

Even though I felt a sigh of relief...I found myself tearing up. 

Even though I had been irritated with things...I was now feeling sad to let go of our last link of the past. 

And felt like I was saying good bye to a trusted and dear friend who had been with us and watching over our sweet Evan so closely, with such love and true care.

And it was HARD! 

I still find myself tearing up even now as I type this! 

 

What a feeling to look back and watch how lovingly Evan has been cared for.  How cared for I have been, with ANY concern I may have had.  I knew I wasn't alone, and I knew I had a wonderful doctor watching over this miracle of ours.

And it's hard to say goodbye to someone who holds such intimate parts of our past, and who has journeyed with us, and Evan, these past almost 4 years!

 

Letting go is never easy.

But these people who have cared endlessly for Evan...they will always be a part of our hearts!

 

I had fun snapping some pictures with my iphone while Evan and Dr. Wonko were going through Evan's assessment. 

And even more fun with photoshop trying to play around with my favorite picture of the two of them.

 

Walking out of the hospital that day was...strange.

It was...it.

Looking up to the 3rd floor walkway where NICU is and thinking of every day there. 

Smelling that familiar hospital smell.

Flashbacks to every day we had in that hospital, before the boys were born, after, and up until now.

 

But this time we were walking out one last time with my precious little boy's hand in mine together through the exit.

 

Milestones are strange.

Bitter-sweet almost.

 

But...it is nice to have this milestone with Evan at my side!  Healthy, happy and filling my heart with so so so much joy and love.

 

I am grateful for this milestone.

 



After many years...

I finally did it!!!

 

For YEARS I have wanted a tattoo.  But have always held off.

The biggest reason?  Well, of course, because I was going to have 3 or more children and I didn't want to ruin a tattoo with stretching skin.

 

And, though I have 5 heaven babies and my earthly miracle Evan...I will say...the stretching skin has not been an issue.

 

I debated about holding off until our last and final transfer.  But then...I realised...I am so very tired of holding off.  I'm tired of "what if" and "maybe".  I'm tired.

 

I had finally decided, confidently, what I wanted tattooed on my body.  It is going to be here forever, so it better be right.

 

After our 13+ years of trying to have a family, after our losses, during the joy of Evan, and then recently in our loss of our baby, Faith...I knew.  I knew what this tattoo was.

 

And here it is...fresh after being done on January 4th, the day after my brutal post-op checkup...

 

 

"Still Standing"...

It has SO much meaning to me. 

 

Not just because of our struggle to have children.  Not just because of our losses.  Not just because of the gift of Evan. 

 

It goes beyond that.

 

Life has tried, on many occassions, to knock me down.  And, on occassion, I have wanted to stay down because fighting to get back up just felt SO hard.

But, I've always chosen to get back up.  Not to be defeated.  I may be a bit scarred along the way, but I wasn't going to let the wounds remain a bloody mess.  No, I was going to get up and find a way to heal.  Yes, the scars remain, but they prove I have fought and am fighting to rise above.

 

I can't believe just HOW clichè this post is sounding!  ME, of all people, the anti-clichè person...a post filled with them.

But...it's true.  These words are true.

 

I am still standing.  Through it all.  I refuse to stay beaten down.  I refuse to give up.  I refuse to let disappointments and broken dreams/heart and pains of life keep me down.

Ya, they will remain a part of me...and that is ok.

But they will not rule me. 

 

The eternity heart was a symbol I had hoped to integrate in the tattoo, and I'm so glad that we did.  She did a GREAT job!  A tribute to all of our babies.  That we will love each and every one of our babies until we all reunite for an eternity in heaven :)

 

This tattoo is for me.  It's a constant reminder.  It's an encouragement.  It's a kick in the behind when I need it.

 

That tattoo appointment was more therapeutic than any session with a therapist!

The "pain" of the tattoo itself was nothing compared to the pain my heart has felt. 

I was able to share with my tattoo artist the meaning behind this tattoo.  Our losses, Evan, our recent loss in November, our "journey".  This girl is 21.  I thought maybe what I was saying would be lost...but...she was more amazing than she will ever know!  After her condolences she bravely asked "I hope you don't mind me asking, and if you aren't up to talking about just let me know if I'm overstepping boundaries here but..." and asked questions of our reason of infertility (of which there is no known medical reason), and about our losses.  She was freely discussing with me...and she has NO idea how much that meant to me!!!!!! 

She showed interest, care, empathy, respectful curiosity...but most of all she showed that she acknowledged the lives of all our children.  And it was SUCH a freeing time for me!!!

The whole night was just so liberating and freeing! 

 

When I got home from my appointment Brett commented that he hasn't seen me this excited in a long time!  And it's true.  OK, don't get me wrong...this is outside of each positive pregnancy test, babies, Evan...this excitement had to do with strictly ME :)  Something I chose to do just for me.

 

And I LOVE LOVE LOVE it!  I keep staring at my arm and smiling! 

 

I do have one more tattoo planned.  It is my memorial/tribute/closure tattoo.  However, this one I do plan to wait to do until after our final transfer.  Should this final transfer not be successful, then it will definitely be fitting and appropriate...and I will need that.

 

Last night at my parents we were all remembering when my older brother was the first to come with a tattoo and how my mom thought it was a joke at first, then tried to pick at it believing it was a sticker and then was not too impressed (my parents were not supporters of tattoos back then ;) ), and then calling my dad to "come and see what your son has done". 

However, since it was dad's Clan Crest (my dad is 100% born and raised Scottish for those who don't know us personally)...I think that softened the "blow". :)  hee hee hee

 

My younger brother carried on the tattoo "trend".

 

So, thank you brothers for paving the way for your sister :)

 

This year did not start out the way we had envisioned with planning for our baby's arrival in July.

2012 ended with sadness and loss, and 2013 has begun with heart ache and sorrow, however, we will continue to live in the love and joy that each day provides our family.  We will continue to stive for peace and hold on to hope for whatever may come.  We embrace every moment with Evan and the life, love, laughter and joy he brings to our lives.

 

Regardless...this will be a year of change.  Whether it be exciting change or closure change.

Once our final transfer is done...it's done. 

Whatever that transfer results, our journey with ARTs (artificial reproductive technology) will come to a close.  7 years of ARTs, 13+ years of trying for children...

 

After great loss and sorrow, I am choosing to begin 2013...Still Standing.

When everything that CAN go wrong DOES...

I'm going to do this post in color because my morning felt so so so black and depressing!!

And let me explain my post title.  This pertains to my appointment yesterday morning. 

So, I went for my 6wk post-op appointment with my OB/G-Peri yesterday morning.
First horrible thing...I had to drink all the water for a full bladder for my "lovely" ultrasound.

I got to the office and sure enough...it was like it was "brink of delivery day". EVERY. SINGLE. WOMAN. in that office was very, VERY pregnant. I sat there staring at my boots with tears rolling down my face trying to be "discreet", though I know a couple of these fortunate pregnant women witnessed what I was desperately trying to hide.

I was called back for my ultrasound. I was put in the waiting spot, right across from the ultrasound room. The radiologist was doing an ultrasound a woman and asking about was she still bleeding, etc? My heart went out to the woman...until I heard:
"Well, there are TWO babies in there!!" I could hear the dad "what?! No! Really? What?" and the radiologist saying "yes, here is baby one, and HERE is baby TWO! Are you sure there is no history of multiples in either side of your families?" Husband: "these are the first twins ever in either family!" Then I could hear the measurements happening, and the "here is the picture of your babieS".

That was it...I LOST it. I was SOBBING in that stupid little waiting cubicle. And SO ANGRY that I had to hear all of that.
The radiologist needed the door open because the room was so hot and she was having trouble with her eyes.

Then...my turn. Lucky me.
She says "so, what's been happening since your last ultrasound?" Ummmm...obviously had NOT read my chart and had NO idea why I was there.
So, tears again I tell her "I lost our baby at the end of November and had to have a D&C. I'm here for the 6 week post op follow up".
Silence, sullen face and the all too familiar "I am SO sorry!"
We start talking through the u/s. I tell her our story and inform her that SHE was the one who actually told us the day we lost our identical twins 5 years ago at our "routine" 12wk u/s.
Again...more "I'm so sorry" and dropped face.
I tell her I need the results faxed to our fertility clinic before we even consider doing our final transfer of our very last blastocyste.
She asks if we will do IVF again.
I firmly say "absolutely not, I can't handle more of this pain".
Then she tells me about a patient she recently saw pregnant with her first baby. She is 49 years old. Got married 5 years ago. And went to the states for a donor egg...and it worked.
When we are done and I'm off the table she wraps me in a big hug and again tells me how sorry she is. But that it is a new year, and not to give up hope. Ummmmm...I have been saying that EVERY new year for the past 13 years of us trying to have a family. I'm tired of starting every year with that phrase.  But for her benefit I agree, plaster on my perfected smile and brave face and say thank you.  All the while in my head I'm screaming not so nice words.

I then go back to the waiting room. Another woman and her maybe 5 or 6 year old son come in, go back for an u/s and come out and the mom is loudly beaming and saying "A GIRL! How EXCITING hey!!! A sister for you!"

COME ON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Seriously God? Where was the protection in this day?!!!!!!!!
That was going to be US. WE were going to get to share with Evan about the baby growing inside of me.  Our sweet Faith.  And that day will never happen. 
And now...I get told how that physically things look good. No remaining tissue can be seen.
Gee, thanks for confirming that our baby is completely gone from my body.

THEN I get called back to my OBs office. The nurse is so very precious and hugs me and asks if I need any juice or anything (because I had burst in to tears again when she sat me in the room) and tells me to call her if I need anything while I'm waiting.
Here...this is what I need...I need the last 6 weeks to rewind. To hear that my baby is NOT dead. To have been at the office for my 14wk pregnancy u/s. To NOT be facing picking out a memorial plaque for yet another baby.
But I adored her for being so very compassionate.

The final kicker?? I wait almost an hour in the room. And then, I get to see my OB's RESIDENT! I don't even see my own OB! I was a bit offended and hurt. But, apparently she was doing an ultrasound on another pregnant woman. So forget about the barren one sitting bawling in her room. Toss me off to a resident.
I do love my OB, and appreciate that she didn't want me to have to sit there even longer to hear her say the same thing that the resident said to me. It just would have been nice to feel dignified in seeing my OB personally.

Whatever.  I wasn't one of the important ones that day.  My baby wasn't about to be born any day, as apparently every other woman in that office that day seemed to be.

Yesterday marked the final moment of Faith.  Yesterday marked that there is no more trace of our baby girl inside of me... where she should be safely tucked, growing, moving and ALIVE.  It's over.
Well, I'm saying this in the earthly sense. I KNOW she is alive and well with her 4 brothers in heaven. But none of that knowledge is helping my broken heart right now. I know what I SHOULD be thinking and feeling in the heavenly sense...but I'm mad right now. I'm mad that this is our path...again.

Anyhow, that is how my appointment went yesterday.

I'm tired. Exhausted. Broken. Lost. Angry.

I just want to be done trying to conceive but that can't even happen until we do our final transfer. And I'm in no rush right now to do that, no matter how much I want our ARTs road to be done. Right now...I just have to breathe.

So I will be taking a chunk of time to rebuild my mind and body.  I have to feel some shred of distant hope that in this coming time my body will heal enough to allow for a CHANCE for our remaining frosty-baby.  I don't claim to believe this final transfer will work.  I'm not even knowing HOW to pray about this last transfer.  Just that God allows me some dignity of getting through with my head held high and my heart NOT broken AGAIN.
I have NO idea how this will all play out...but I'm sad that I have no comfort in anything anymore.  I used to feel at least confident in the "numbers" of our blood pregnancy tests.  I knew either way without a doubt pregnant or not.  But after such high numbers with Faith...and with losing her...numbers no longer count.  Numbers no longer gaurantee a thing.  Numbers are just numbers.

Right now I need to try to be still in where things are in the PRESENT.

Evan and Brett are my living breath.  What would I do without my guys?!  They give me hope.  They give me strength.  They bring smiles, laughter and yes, even frustration.  None of which I could live without!  They are my heart and soul.  And I adore them.  And I am grateful for the both of them and for the life we have together.  I love love love them!