So many Thank You's...

Today was a special day. 

Each year around March 6th, I like to do something special for the NICU where Zac and Evan began their journeys in this life.  I like to do something in memory of Zac and in honor of Evan's birthday.  Something to find some peace in knowing only one of our two sons are blowing out birthday candles and being showered by friendship and gifts.  Something to find peace in my own heart and a goal to find some sort of "sense" without Zac here.  A goal and a joy to settle the stabbing ache in my heart as I prepare for a party that Zac will never be physically present at. 

Doing something for the NICU does that for me.  It provides a goal for me.  A sense of "peace" in the fact that Zac is not here another year.  A way to bring a small bit of healing in knowing I'm doing something to remember him and to share him with others.  Something to hopefully bring joy to another parent going through the NICU journey.

It feels good to drop off whatever donation has been gathered that year.  To say "in rememberance of Zac and in celebration of another birthday for Evan..."
It feels good to be able to say "thank you" to nurses and doctors who worked so very hard and with so much love to provide the best they could for BOTH of our sons.

I need this.  I need to have a way to celebrate BOTH of our sons.  To have a goal to celebrate BOTH of their lives.  To say thank you.

This year I was blessed by friends and family who participated in my donation collection of journals.
Journaling was my lifeline through each NICU day and still is. 
I began journaling shortly after Zac's funeral.
I would have started earlier, but for obvious reasons...my head just wasn't there.
But once I began journaling...I couldn't stop.  It's a journal of each 66 days Evan was in NICU, and then I just continued it to this day.  I hope one day Evan will be interested in reading them, but regardless...it was my way of working through the scariest days of our lives.
So, thanks to the idea from another baby loss mommy who's daughter passed away in NICU...I decided this journal collection was a wonderful idea.

Today Evan and I dropped off 43 journals, and a ton of little crocheted hats that my grandma made.  She still can't believe that a head can possibly be THAT tiny to fit these hats.  And is always asking if I'm sure she is making them the right size.  And I always smile and say "I'm sure baba.  I'm sure because it would have fit Evan just perfect!"

It was an extra special day for me as I met the new NICU Family Liason Nurse today.  Our sweet Doreen retired before I had a chance to talk with her one last time, so when I called thinking I was leaving a message for Doreen but ended up leaving a message for Shannon, I explained who I was, who our sons were/are and about the donation I had to drop off.
Last night I listened to my messages and Shannon had returned my call and said "actually Heather, it's me, Shannon...who was with Zac the first night the boys were born.  I was with him that whole night".  As I listened to that voice message I began to shake and my eyes filled with tears.  Brett looked at me and asked what was wrong and I said "It's SHANNON!  She's the new NICU Liason!"
Brett and Shannon had known each other way back when they were both in school in Moose Jaw...so when the boys were born and Brett saw her...I think it was really helpful to see a familiar face. 
And so when I saw Shannon walk out to meet me today, and I saw the tears in her eyes, I just hugged her and we both just started to cry.  It meant the world to me to see this sweet angel, and to now know that she is the new NICU Liason...the contact for each of my donations and Christmas baking!  That this person, one of the first, who was so lucky as to get to know my sweet Zac, was back in our lives.  I will never forget after Evan came home and on his 1st Birthday there was a card in our mail box wishing Evan a happy birthday and remembering Zac.  It was from Shannon.

So today was extra special and extra emotional, and when I got home...I just had a good cry and allowed myself to feel the emotions of walking back in to that unit and seeing this sweet girl! 

To each of you who contributed to this journal donation...I can't thank you enough.  It means the world to me that you have continued to contribute to these yearly donations...and it just really touches my heart that you choose to remember Zac and celebrate Evan with us. 

I know that these donations mean so very much to the staff, and to the parents whose lives are touched by them.  So I thank you from the bottom of my heart for supporting me in these moments.
Truly, thank you!!

A sweet moment was when Evan and I got off the elevator to the NICU floor, there was one of the house keepers in the hall whose face just LIT UP when she saw Evan and I.  She is one of the cleaners on the NICU unit...and so to see how happy she was to see us, and who remembers us so well...it just really melted my heart! 


I won't lie...I've been struggling these days.  The struggle of pure joy and gratitude and adoration for Evan and the pure sadness of missing Zac so very much has been pulling me in all directions.  I know it has been elevated due to our recent unsuccessful embryo transfer, and feeling really sad about that.  But the reality is, that tug-of-war of joy and sorrow is a daily part of my life.
But being back and the hospital, having every second come flying back to my mind as if we had just left there with Evan...tears have been shed today.  Tears of sheer thanks to God for sparing Evan, tears of sheer love and pride of BOTH of our sons and the fight they gave us, tears of missing my sweet Zac in my arms.
It doesn't help that a few of my favorite shows have been dealing with really tough scenarios. 
I love the Little Couple.  Watching their struggle with their IVF procedures, their miscarriage, their unsuccessful embryo transfer and now an unsuccessful egg retrieval...it breaks my heart, yet they are so inspiring too.
Yes, I also love Private Practise.  I do.  But this last episode on Tuesday night broke my heart.  One of the doctor's finds out her unborn baby does not have a brain...and this doctor is a neurosurgeon.  In one part she is yelling at her sister-in-law and saying "I would be mad at God, but there is no God.  No God would do something this painful".  The outcome for her baby is leaving this earth.
And now tonight on Grey's Anatomy, a resident gave birth to her son very prematurely.  25 weeks I think?  Anyhow, for the past few episodes it has gone through the struggles of a premature birth and they pretty much went through everything that could go wrong with a baby this early.  Sadly...I understood everything they were talking about.  But on tonight's episode, this baby undergoes surgery for another bowel obstruction only to find out they can not do anything medically.  This baby, Tommy, is not going to survive.  And the mother is left to make a decision I know first hand of how brutally agonizing it is.  To say goodbye.  To know your son is not going to make it, and to use those final moments to hold your child you've never been able to hold, and knowing that in holding your child in those moments, it is only to say goodbye to each other on this earth.
Each of these shows have been hitting on very personal cords.  And though it is heart breaking to watch these shows, I am so grateful that they are bringing light to what some of us are faced with.  It's not just a TV show script...it's real life for some of us.

But after today, after the joy I felt after dropping off these donations...I am grateful.  For a lot of things, including my scars.  And the wounds that are still trying to heal.  Though I wish desperately those scars did not mean such agonizing loss...without them, I would not have the children in heaven that I have.  I would not have the child I am honored to mother on this earth.

So to share some joy with others...has been healing.

Now...if only I could get to sleep!  I would be grateful for that too!

Journal donations and crocheted hats (by my baba) to RUH NICU in memory of Zac and in celebration of Evan.

My sweet Easter Bunny

Evan's new 2-wheeler with training wheels.  So proud of his new bike!

Seriously...SO ADORABLE!  He doesn't go anywhere without his Spiderman cap!

Me and my buddy!

"It is well with my soul..."

This weekend was a tough one.
It was my sister-in-law's mom's funeral.
I still find myself thinking...was that really real?  Is she really no longer here on this earth?


It happened so fast.  Her illness was short, but drastic and ultimately led her home to heaven.


And that's the thing with life. 


In the blink of an eye...and it changes. 


Sometimes for the good, sometimes for the worse, sometimes for the glory of eternity.


But never the less...in the blink of an eye.




It was touching to hear the tributes of Sheila's life.  To learn a side of her I really did not know.
To hear the love of those around her.
To learn of her deep faith and desire to know God more.




A few things hit me as we sat through the service.
The most obvious...mortality and what type of legacy I would leave behind came to mind.  I sat there wondering, "who would come to my funeral?  What would they say about me?  What memory would I have left behind?  Would people REALLY have known ME?  Would they have the memories of me that I would hope they would?  Would they know how much I love?  How much I care?  How desperately I just wanted to friend those around me?  That people in my life meant something very special?  That I prayed for each of them? "


I also found myself DESPERATE to be conscious of what type of mother I want to be.  The legacy I want to leave behind for Evan.  To have Evan know without a doubt how cherished, loved, adored, desired, prayed for, longed for he was and always will be.  To have him know that every night as I lay beside him while he falls asleep I lay my hand over him and pray the very best of all God has in store for him.  The hopes, desires and dreams that I have for him.  For his health, his happiness, his strength, his integrity, his wisdom, his love, his future wife and children (so should God have planned out for him).  For every cell, organ, bone, muscle, tendon...every inch of him is covered in prayers of protection and health and wellness.


For him to know that he is more than enough.  That no matter what...he is enough.  And my heart is overflowing with love and adoration for this much desired, dreamed of, fought for little boy.
That ever second of pain and disappointment and sadness on the journey to have our babies enter our lives...has been worth it. 


I never want Evan for a SECOND to ever wonder if I truly loved him enough.  I want to cover our little boy in hugs and kisses until he pushes me off and tells me I am embarassing him (though secrectly I hope that he glows inside). 
I want his memories of me to ones of pure love.  That his memories of me will be ones of strong parenting and friendship delicately balanced.  That there is never a question of how much every single second of our life together has been my greatest blessing and honor.




Of course, the other thing that raged through my mind during the funeral service was, Zac's service.
The memories of the days of Zac's life.  Knowing what it is like to witness your loved one's last breath.  The memory of knowing the moment Zac no longer took a breath while in my arms.  Knowing in that moment that he was home.  And that he would no longer hurt.
But also the feelings of sheer confusion.  WHY did his sac rupture?  He was a perfectly healthy precious little boy up to that moment.  It had nothing to do with HIM.  It was the sac around him, there to protect him, that ultimately failed him.  ZAC was perfect.  So WHY?  What purpose was there to such a thing.  And in this age of medical technology and breakthrough...how is it that there is nothing that can be done to repair a sac?  And for 5 weeks as each movement I made created a new rush of loss of fluid and knowing there was that much less to help Zac breathe...WHY would God choose not to allow a miracle of repairing that tiny tear in the sac?  WHY? 
Then the agony of facing Zac's funeral.  All the eyes on us as we walked in.  I still feel the eyes on us.
But the beautiful service.  Oh my, the day may be a blur, but I remember the feeling of the beauty of the service.  And the words spoken.  And the love in that room.  The love for a little boy no one got to meet and know.  The love for US in support of the loss of Zac.
How such a little life touched so many.
There are no answers sufficient for the "why".  I don't think I'll ever have the answer to the "why".  And at this stage...the answers wouldn't help anyhow.  It wouldn't change anything, and it wouldn't make it okay.  So I have to hold to just knowing that Zac is home.  And we will be together in again.


In the mean time...Sheila gets to hold my boy.  ALL my babies!  I won't lie...I'm a bit jealous.  But glad that she is able to get to know them all and tell them about me until I can get there too!


I also found myself thinking about who I am as a wife.  Wanting to just have my husband know without a DOUBT my love and devotion for him.  How PROUD I am to be his wife.  How BLESSED I am to have him as my best friend in life.  How DESTROYED I would be without him. 
I found myself thinking about all the little nit-picky things that can get in the way of joy and love.  I see the struggle and pain and sorrow we have walked through together, and have come through hand in hand.  Yet, how easily those same pains and sorrows could destroy a couple. 
I thought of my role as a stay at home mom, and wife.  How easy it is for me to get annoyed at socks dropped randomly through the house all balled up.  How much I wish I had central vac just to suck them all up, and for no other reason but for those socks :)
I thought about how frustrated I can get over piddly little tasks that really, in the big scheme of things, just don't matter and honestly...if I really wanted I could just do it myself.
The times where I found myself asking why I am the only one doing such and such. 
Well, seriously...it IS my job right now!  I may not get paid, or get a raise or get flowers on Professional Administration Day.  I may not hear "thank you" after each task.  I may not get a physical pat on the back.  But this is the role I have longed for.  The role I asked for.  And so it is with a renewed sense of my role that I change my stubborn attitude and face each task (as mundane and repetitive as it may be) and say "thank you God for the opportunity to have a husband to pick up socks after, a child to race around after, a dog to clean up after, a meal to prepare, a house to tidy". 
THANK YOU for the blessings of my life.
THANK YOU for the scars.  Though I wouldn't have chosen some (or all) of the scars...they make up parts of who I am today.  And without those scars, I wouldn't be the same.  I don't know if I would have the same fight within.


I choose to fight for the joys of life.  And be thankful of each of God's gracious blessings.




The other part of this weekend is that is was so close to our last visit.  Our last visit where Lil' Pretty came in to our lives for a short while.  I found myself thinking back to each of those days over our visit and the trip out to pick up Lil' Pretty and coming home knowing we were coming home as 4 instead of the 3 we went out as.
So being back in the same city where our clinic is, was tough for me.  Confusing.  Sad.  And grieving this child I will never know on this earth.


Again, how quickly life changes.  In the blink of an eye.


One of the songs sung at Sheila's funeral was "It Is Well With My Soul". 
The story behind the man who wrote this song is utterly amazing.  Horatio Spafford, I believe.
A story of loss and tragedy...and then to read these words...wow.

"When peace, like a river, attendeth my way.  When sorrows like sea billows roll;

Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say,

It is well, it is well with my soul.

Refrain:

It is well with my soul

It is well with my soul,

It is well, it is well, with my soul

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come.  Let this blest assurance control,

That Christ has regarded my helpless estate, And hath shed his own blood for my soul.

(Refrain)

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!  My sin, not in part but the whole.

Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,

Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

(Refrain)

And, Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,

The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;

The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,

Even so, it is well with my soul

(Refrain)

It took everything within me not to break down as I held Evan in my arms with his head resting on my shoulder.  To feel the blessing of his little life in my arms, and the sorrow of the pain of loss in my heart...it was a tough moment.  And though there are many times where things don't feel well in my soul...I know they are.  I know it must be well with my soul, because my loving God loves me that much more than I could ever comprehend.  That my sorrows are His sorrows, and my tears are shed along with His. 


Life is precious.  Cherish each moment.  It is so easy to get distracted and caught up with all the silly little things and nit-picky frustrations.  But cherish it...because it ends all too soon. 


I want to leave a legacy of someone who loved fully.  Who cared deeply.  Who trusted God even in the most confusing moments of life.  Who lived my life well. 
I want to be a mother who leaves her child never second-guessing and feeling my love carry on even though I may no longer be present.
I want to be a wife who can see the pride, love and respect on her husbands face.  That when I come in to a room I see a light in his eyes and a smile on his face.  That I know I have walked this journey with him well.  And supported him and have had him know how loved he is.


And I want those around me to know my faith.  That yes, I may have reason to some to turn my back on what seems to be a silent God at times...but that they would see that is not the case.  That in those seemingly silent times it is then that God gives me the most strength to move forward and continue the walk of faith and trust and relationship with Him.  That He never fails.  And that my relationship with Him is worth every battle as well.  That I am a loved child of God.


And through the ups and downs of this earthly life I will say "It Is Well With My Soul".


Blessings to each and every one of you through the good and dark times of this life.

I'm not going to lie...

Sometimes it's so much easier to say "I will be okay no matter what..." when you aren't going through the "no matter what" part.

Sometimes it's easier to put up walls around your heart so you feel "protected" from heart ache.

Sometimes life is rough, confusing, INFURIATING.

I'm not going to lie.  A few weeks ago, my mind was in the "I'll be okay no matter the outcome" mindset.  I was so logical and "brave faced". 

Now being IN the "outcome" point...I'm just not okay.

I WILL be okay...but right now, I'm not.  I'm disappointed.  I'm sad.  I'm heart broken.

We had a frozen embryo transfer on April 1st.  I guess my mind went straight to the "am I going to turn out the fool?" when I heard my transfer day.

I will say we were blessed by two precious embryos developing in to blastocyt stage.  I won't go in to explanation or medical terminology as to the difference.  Simply put, a blastocyt is further developed than an embryo.  In transfer language and stats, one blast is similar to transferring two embryo, but GREATLY decreasing the chance of multiples (which is where we are at.  We will never, ever, ever do a multiple embryo/blast transfer again as we are terrified of the risk of a 3rd multiple pregnancy). 

We did lose two sweet embryos in this process, but I fully believe that one day I will meet even these precious two little children one day in heaven. 

On April 1st we had our transfer.  And the 2ww (two week wait) began to see if this sweet precious little one would snuggle in.

I knew we had a strike against us.  My endometrial lining no longer wants to respond to medication, or thicken like it "needs" too.  My clinic prefers a minimum lining of 7mm.  But after 2 cancelled cycles due to poor response on my body's behalf, we came to the conclusion that .5mm under the "optimal minimum" would suffice.

It was all in God's hands.

I prayed He would grant this precious one life.  And for whatever time this little one tried inside me...he/she lived.  Even if it was minutes.

Yesterday was my birthday.  Another year older.  I secretly hoped I wouldn't hear the answer from my blood test from the weekend on my birthday.  I didn't want that to be something that would mark my birthday.  I was relieved that my doctor here does not work on Monday's, however, she must have been curious too because...I got the call.

When I answered and heard her assistant...I knew the results.  I knew it wasn't good, or my doctor would have called to celebrate.  Instead, the assistant called.  And my heart plunged to the ground.

What a great birthday present to hear that once again, your body has betrayed you and another little one.

I know, that's irrational and unfair thinking on my behalf.  I know that many women conceive and lose a child even without knowing.  I know that blaming myself and my body is not what I should logically do.

But when you hear nothing but "negative" year after year after year after (well, 11 years worth)...it gets really heart breaking and numbing.

Before our transfer, after and through the wait, I kept assuring myself I would be okay.  I was just relieved that we were able to go for the transfer at all.  The way things have been going with my body, we didn't even know if that was ever going to happen.  And transferring with a "lesser" lining...I knew it was a hit against us.  But I also knew that God is bigger.  I knew that if this little one was to grace this earth, God would be bigger and would be thicker than any lining I may need. 

I know God did not let me down.  I know He did not "take away" a miracle.  But I won't lie.  I feel hurt.  I just hoped.  And hope is becoming harder and harder to hold on to.

After I heard the news, I felt like I had doomed my little one right from the start.  Like I received this little one to an awaiting tomb.  My mom HATES that I call my body a tomb.  And she is right...it's not right to talk to my body this way.  It's just where my mind goes...because that is the lie that gets thrown at me.  Have I ever said how very much I love my mommy!  Seriously!! 

Before the "negative"...I think my gut always knew the answer, but I had really secretly hoped.  I generally REFUSE to let myself day dream or think of the future of a positive.  It is waaaaaay too dangerous for my heart.  BUT, for the briefest moment...I had day dreamed.  I had let my guard down.  And then hearing that this little one would never bless our home and family...my heart broke.

Please don't start thinking or telling me about how I am already blessed and that I should just be grateful for Evan.  I KNOOOOOW how blessed I am.  I am the FIRST to know.  Don't roll your eyes and release a big sigh about how ungrateful I might sound.  Don't presume to understand if you have not been in the same situation.  And do NOT try to tell me that this little one didn't really exist just because it did not implant.  This Little One was my DNA, my husband's DNA...this Little One was created, dividing, living, growing.  This Little One existed indeed.

The heart break I feel over the loss of this little one is unique to THIS LITTLE ONE.  It has nothing to do as a reflection on what blessings I HAVE been given.  It is not a sign of lack of love to Evan.  It is not a sign of my ungratitude or lack of appreciation that I have more than some.  I HAVE been that person dreaming and wishing I could be in another persons shoes wishing and praying I could at least have one child or a chance at a child.  I've been empty armed, I've walked away from treatments empty handed and broken.

I've silently screamed inside as I listened to women whining and complaining about pregnancy while I would have given my right arm for it.

I do get it.  And I do understand how someone might look at my situation, someone still hurting and longing, and maybe think I'm being over-emotional over this loss. 

I truly know how blessed I am.  I don't need to be reminded of that.  I just need the opportunity to grieve the loss of the Little One.  And then I will be able to process and move forward.

These losses truly do make me appreciate the gift and miracle of conception even more.  When you live in the world of ARTs (Artificial Reproductive Technology), you have no choice but to know when eggs have been retrieved, fertilized, transferred, and hopefully implanted.  You KNOW at the time of transfer that this little one was dividing and growing as it should.  But when you hear that negative...then you know, your body did not accept it.  And THAT my friends, it a very tough pill to swallow...no matter WHAT the reasons may or may not have been.  When you live in the world of ARTs...you come to realize how precious each little one is, and how surprising there are as many children conceived (naturally or OUR naturally - ARTs).  It's a fine dance.  I fine line.  You have no idea.

I look at Evan, I look at Zac's pictures...and I see that miracle.  That wonder.  That amazement of conception and birth.  I also see what all can go wrong, and what all can go right. 

I look at the one and only ultrasound picture I had of Jack, Ethan and where Whisper had been for a very short while...and you know.

Life is fragile and precious.

My grief over these lost FETs isn't because Evan is not enough.  By NO means.  But is it so wrong to have been given a taste of the joy of loving a child so much that we would love to share that love with another child, and give Evan the joy of a sibling!? 

It's because we know love. 

And because we have these little ones still.

And we would love to know them.  To experience them.  To have them a part of our family.

Yes, if our remaining 2 blasts do not produce a pregnancy or a living child...it too will be heartbreaking.  It too will be a loss.  Especially because after these two little ones are hopefully transferred (Lord willing my body will even ALLOW me to get to that point.  Lots of prayers needed there!), after the final transfer...that is it.  There are no more chances.  Our journey comes to an end.

I know that miracles and miracle conceptions happen.  I've been witness to a few extremely precious miracle babies...but someone elses story does not equate what may happen for us.  I'm not being negative and speaking "dark" in to our lives...I'm realistic.  I'm too grown up to live in someone elses blessing and miracle. 

What one person is blessed with, and one persons story is NOT a "sign" that it can/will happen for us.

And it's not about what we "deserve".  It's not that we "deserve" another child or that joy.  We'd LOVE it...but it's not like we are "owed" it.  Each person's story is unique. 

I know I will be okay.  My heart is beginning to heal from this.  I know I have two choices...sit in anger and self blame and self pity...or get myself refocused.  Focus on my relationship with my God, who I KNOW has great plans, whatever that may or may not involve.  I KNOW His love is beyond imagine for me.  And I KNOW that He wants the very best for us.  So...instead of continuing to allow myself to listen to the devil's lies and condemnation, I choose to continue to rely on God's unending love.  Yes, I'm sad that this Little One did not make it, but I know who holds this Little One.  I know that God's hand is protecting this little life until we meet again.

And I guess I can find peace in the fact that this Little One WAS with me, even for a little while.  In the warmth of it's mommy. 

I am so aware of how lucky and blessed I am with even the opportunity of doing these transfers for a CHANCE at another living child.  I am blessed. 

I am so aware of how lucky and blessed I am with the children I HAVE been blessed with.  Even if 4 of my 5 conceived children wait for me in heaven. 

I am sooooooooooooooooooo aware of how lucky and blessed I am to be HONORED with the GIFT of mothering Evan.  I truly never dreamed I'd ever get this chance.  I spent months after the boys were born watching Evan in NICU...wondering...would I ever get the chance to hold him outside of a hospital?  Would he ever come home?

So yes, I know without a doubt how blessed I am.  I am first in line to shout that from a roof top! 

Regardless...it's still hard to lose a child...no matter WHAT stage of life.

Like my title says, today I just can't lie.

Heart Break...

My sister-in-laws mom just passed away 2 days ago.  It was a sudden illness and a whirlwind of shock, and within a few short weeks...she passed away.

In one breath I caught myself thinking "oh to know what entering heaven's gates is like".  I feel such sadness for my sister-in-law and the family...but the idea of heaven, and NEVER EVER EVER hurting again or being ill or having a broken body...seems so precious.

My next thought was "Sheila gets to see my babies.  She gets to help watch over my Jack, Ethan, "Whisper" and Zac.  They are with her.  And I caught myself begging that she would give them all hugs and tell them how very much their mommy loves them.
And then yesterday my sister-in-law texted me and told me how before her mom passed away she asked her take care of Zac and all my babies until I got to meet them again.  How her mom cared so much, and read my blog.
And my heart broke, with sadness for her death, and for love that she cared enough to follow my blog.  It just really touched my heart.

A few years ago, my Aunt and cousin were in a horrible car accident.  My Aunt passed away beside my cousin, who survived the crash.  My other cousin was supposed to be with them that day but last minute chose to stay back.  Had he gone, he would have been in the back seat, which was completely destroyed.  He would have died.

I have not gone through the tragedy of losing a parent.  The very idea has tears streaming down my face right now.  My parents are two of my very best friends.  My anchors.  My support and my wisdom. 
Even to try to picture life without one of them makes my body shake with chills and my heart ache.

I have not gone through the loss of a spouse.  The very thought of that rips my soul out.  I don't think I could bare that.  My husband has been with me through the thickest and thinnest of life.  He has laughed with me, cried with me, longed with me, hurt with me, dreamed with me, supported me.  He is like my second lung...and how could I fully breathe again without both of my lungs.

Because I have lost 4 of my 5 children...I KNOW the pain of the loss of a child.  I KNOW the feeling of losing a part of my life.  And I KNOW how the enemy plays on that fear with bombarding me of horrible nightmares of losing Evan.  I know I have survived the miscarriage of 3 of my babies and the death of my son...but I know I would not survive should Evan ever be taken from me.  I absolutely could not survive. 

I have loved ones who have are are going through the pain of losing a parent...a mother. 
I am a mother who has and does go through the pain of losing her children.

And pain...is pain. 
Loss...is loss.

But eternity...that is our hope.  That is our reality.  That is what we long for and strive for. 

Yet, we are human.  The feelings and emotions we feel after loss are human. 
They are often times outside of our norm. 
They are often dark.
They are often...real.
And to me...that is just fine.
That to me is normal and right.
Loss is not fluffy, and so why should our pain be expected to be graceful?

We don't need to be slathered in reminders of heaven and glory and God's ultimate healing through earthly death.  We know that.  We know that this earth is not our home.  But what we DO need is people who are strong enough to sit beside us and feel and see and hear the "ugly" in loss.  And yes, help hold us out of the trenches of bitterness.  Because bitterness is not a place one needs to end up.  I sure did.  With our first miscarriage...I have NEVER felt so bitter and broken and abandoned.  I felt so lost, and my world just kept feeling more and more dark.
The fight out of that dark hole...was NOT an easy task.  And for those who gave me their hands to help pull me out...what a blessing.  What a blessing to just be loved and gently guided through that time.  Not with cliches.  Not with being hammered over the head with bible verses.  That came at the right time, and gently.  And gently...is what brought me back.

When Zac passed away...there are no true words to describe what I went (and go) through.  I felt like two separate people wrapped in one.  The grieving mommy was beyond broken.  Beyond anything I had ever known.  I felt the blackness swallowing me up again.
Yet...there was our sweet Evan, fighting for his life.  Our 2lb wonder.  And I knew I HAD to find a way to shine out my joy around my Evan in those dark NICU days. 
And being by Evan's side and oozing joy and love wasn't a chore.  It wasn't a forced action.  It was true and real.
Yet knowing Zac would never again be beside his brother...I still don't know how to appropriately express that feeling.  You just can't.  It truly is like night and day.

It feels like right now there are so many special people in my life going through loss.  And it breaks my heart.  The reality of loss is painful.  The fight to remain hopeful...that's the tough part.
Knowing the road to healing...it's a long one.  A road that needs so very much TLC.  Often times just an arm around the shoulder.  No words.  Words can't "fix" loss.  Words often times come out in a way a person never intended.  That's when it's the arm around the shoulder.

I know we have the ultimate arm around the shoulder.  I know God holds us.  I know He carries us.  I know He cries with us and hurts in our pain.  He will wipe away each tear.  Yet, He will also allow the reality and truth in our tears to flow.  He doesn't ask us to be brave and just smile and say "sure, I'm ok"...that's what we do to ourselves.  We think we need to put on the brave face.  I know, I've done it.  I do it.  I guess at a point in grief you just start to feel like you've "worn your welcome" for tears and sharing the struggle.  It's not right to feel that way, but we do that.  Yet, we don't have to do that with God.  He knows.  We can't hide the reality of our truth.  And that is okay. 

My heart is with each hurting person.  My prayers are with us all. 

Please pray for my sister-in-law and her family as the funeral for Sheila will be held this Friday.  Please pray for safe travels for those of us travelling to the funeral.
Please pray for comfort, for peace, for healing, and for acceptance of grieving processes.

I'm praying for so many tonight...

A day no parent should endure...

This morning there is a couple who are facing their baby daughter's funeral and burial. 
This sweet little girl was a surviving twin, to her predeceased brother.
This precious angel was born with severe heart defects, and she underwent surgery, and fought a brave fight to heal, but sadly she did not survive.

Hearing that news was agonizing.

And knowing that this moment these sweet parents and their family gather to celebrate her precious little life...it causes every single fiber in me to ache and wheep for them.

Knowing this day for them...it brings me back three years ago.  The day of Zac's funeral and then his burial.

Walking in to the church.  I still don't know how my feet carried me in.  Obviously God was in my shoes that day, because all I wanted to do was run.
Walking down the aisle to the front pew with everyones eyes on us...I just wanted to scream "please don't forget my son!"
Facing Zac's tiny white casket.  It still feels like a sick nightmare.

The service was beautiful.  Brett did a precious powerpoint presentation of photos and music.  The pastor read my tribute and thanks.  But in honesty...so much is a blur.
What I do remember is last moment leaning over to Brett telling him "I want to help you carry Zac out".  Brett was going to solely carry out Zac's casket, but in that last moment...I knew I had to be the one on the other side carrying out our son one last time.  And as much as that moment tore me apart, I am so glad that I did it.

Again, only by the strength that God can supernaturally provide. 

The burial...another "this really isn't happening" moment.  That tiny hole.  The cold weather around us.  I was supposed to be rocking my baby boy with his brother in a warm room...not standing by a grave site.

Yet, God provided the strength in that moment as we watched our son's casket, and then drove away.

The days after.  Relearning life.  Even now...I don't know how I do it. 
The joy of Evan allows me to breathe and to live.
The pain of losing Zac will never fully be gone.

The thought of what I would have done had Evan not survived?  I can't even begin to pretend to imagine.  Even going through the loss of Zac...I can't pretend to say I could comprehend what this precious couple are going  through as they grieve the loss of both of their babies.
It's not how life should be.  It isn't.

No parent should ever have to endure this type of pain.  No parent should be facing their child's casket instead of bassinet.  And yet, many of us parents must face this brutal loss and pain.

So today, as this couple endure the pain of their daughter's funeral and burial...can you please take the time to cover them with special prayers!  Because they are going to need every. single. one of them!

"For I know the plans I have for you..."

Jeremiah 29:11 - "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future"


You know how you have that one staple meal on your menu that you know everyone enjoys and it's quick and easy and pleasing to everyone's palates?  Your "fall back" meal so to speak.  And time to time you forget about it, and then when you find that recipe in your pile of recipes it just makes you smile because you know it's going to be a winner?!

I don't mean to be disrespectful to this bible verse in any way.  Don't get me wrong. 
But today I purchased a ring with this verse engraved around it.  When I saw the ring, and the verse...I smiled.  I have always clung to this verse, but I realized quickly that I have "shelved" it for a while...until tonight when I was brought face to face with it in ring form.
As soon as I paid for it, it was on my finger.  The perfect reminder of how easily and quickly I try to "take over" God's plans and "figure it out" on my own.  Like I could REALLY do a better job than GOD?!  Seriously Heather, come on!! 

Lately we have been faced with tough decisions.  Decisions that have really caused battle in my mind between what I was doing in MY will versus GOD'S will.  Decisions that you make in love and in the best interest of current life circumstances.  But always in the back of the mind the enemy whispers "did you really make the right decision?  Are you sure?" 
Stinkin' devil!!  He knows my weakness.  Knows where to strike.  Knows where I struggle. 
You'd think I'd steal re-inforce these areas in my life by now...and yet...I still struggle.
I struggle with self doubt, self inflicted guilt, second guessing myself.  I struggle.

But this verse could not be MORE TRUE!  God has always had His plan for me laid out.  He wants me to prosper.  He does NOT want to harm me.  He wants me to have hope and a future.
He is not out to "get me" or cause me pain. 

Pain will come, but I know it is in those times where I need to just crawl on up in to those heavenly Father arms and cling on like a little child.  And know that He is there to wipe my tears, to calm my mind, to soothe my soul...to give me hope in my future.

Life is changing.  Parts of our journey are coming to a close, and other parts are just beginning.  I know that I am going to have to re-learn who I am and take steps to fulfill my purpose in this new journey.
But it's bitter-sweet.  And so uncertain.

I watched 19 Kids and Counting last night.  I had PVR'ed it because it was the episode where the Duggar's experience the death of their sweet baby in utero.  And I knew I was going to need to be alone to watch this.  Our first loss was similar, however I was earlier in my pregnancy than Michelle Duggar.  But the pain, the look of shock when she heard the technician say "I am so sorry..."
That was an INSTANT flashback to our miscarriage of our first identical twins. 
But Michelle said something later in the episode as tears ran down her face how we are so lucky that we do not have the way of knowing the future, and how it is a good thing, because we would always be awaiting certain fears and we would never be able to enjoy life as it is.  That we were never intended to know our future, and how lucky for that because those same fears would stop us from ever trying.  From learning.  And what would we miss out in those times because of those fears.

Brett said something similar to me a few days ago.  That had we lived life in the "what if" and in fear (concerning children and the path we have been led to take in order to try to achieve that dream), look at what we would have missed out on because of those fears and not being brave to try and do all we could.

It's true.  Fear is a killer.  A killer of dreams, a killer of possibilities, a killer of hope, a killer of what life and what God has in store for each of us.

I struggle with fear.  I do.  And I struggle with worry.  Admittedly. 
And I know those are not of God, and I know that the enemy does a happy dance when my head is in the toilet because I'm so worked up in my fear and worry that I can't keep anything in my stomach.
Yes...that's how bad I can get. 

And why do I allow the enemy to win?  Why do I fear?  My fears have been a hinderance in some areas of life, and in others I have fought through...and look at the blessings we have been granted.

So the challenge is to truly believe that our loving God DOES know His plan for us.  That He WILL allow us to prosper and will protect us.  That we CAN and DO have hope and a future.
If we will just fight the fear, and put our trust in HIM!

As always...music.  Music, the salve to my soul. 

Again, from the CD Passion - Here For You...

Lord, I Need You

Lord, I come, I confess

Bowing here I find my rest

Without You I fall apart

You're the One that guides my heart

Lord I need You, Oh, I need You

Every hour I need You

My one defense, my righteousness

Oh God, how I need You

Where sin runs deep Your grace is more

Where grace is found is where You are

And where You are, Lord, I am free

Holiness is Christ in me

Teach my song to rise to You

When temptation comes my way

And when I cannot stand I'll fall on You

Jesus, You're my hope and stay

What's YOUR cling to verse that restores your soul in times of trouble?

Blessing to you all!!

Too blessed to be stressed...

That is what my tea mug says.  With a beautiful butterfly on it.  And the verse:

"Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with Thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God."  Philippians 4:6

I love this verse...yet, for a life-long worrier as myself...it's a tough one to follow.  Be anxious for...nothing?!  Yes, that is a loaded thought for me.  Yet...what a FREEING reality to know that truly we do not have to be anxious.  Anxiety is naaaaasty.  I know.  Anxiety for myself is heart thumping, pulse racing, absolutely NO appetite causing, rapid drops in weight (trust me...it comes back when the anxiety subsides!  So it's not like it's a help or anything!)

I know that anxiety and worry do nothing but rob us of our joy and hope.  And of course...what more could the enemy want!  He wants to rob our joy and hope.  But why is it such a battle to let go of that which robs us?  Why do we keep thinking that we can control the uncontrollable?  Things that we literally can not humanly change on our own!

We take on a lot.  We try with all our might, thinking we can do things better.  That in those time where we feel alone then we were right all along in taking the reigns.

No, not really.  That's when we held on so tight we pushed God to the back of the equation and chose to believe in our own strength more than His.  And, ummm, I think He is just a "tad" bit stronger than we could ever be, don't you?!

So, with head hung low I hand back the reigns to God...but still want to hold on to a piece of that "control"...even then.  Even in that desire to let it all go and leave it to God...I STILL believe that I can manage it on my own.

I'm a stubborn girl.  I'm a strong-willed girl.  I'm a...silly girl.

For all my anxiety and worry and "control" has brought me nothing more than knots in my stomach, a pulse that races beyond ridiculous, a mind that feels paralyzed in the "what ifs" of life.  So really, what has all my anxiety and worry done for me in a positive way?  Hmmmmm, can't think of much right at the moment.

Yet, those "painful" letting-it-go moments...are wildly freeing and releasing and just so darn nice!

To feel that anxiety draining away...it's like watching dirty water going down the drain.  Now, if only I would just rinse the remaining anxiety from my life like I rinse the sink after draining that dirty water.  Because the residue of my anxiety, without fail...returns with a vengence.

And like a dirty, unrinsed sink...it STINKS!

Why do we find it so hard to believe that God truly does want us not to worry?!  He IS in control.  So why do we worry?  Why do we doubt?

I've never "understood" a non-worrier.  Never really gotten how they manage to stay so calm and focused.  And I've envied them from a distance, yet, I still feel "safe" in my worry and "control".

When will I ever learn? 

And of course it's "easier" to have the hand-it-over, no-worry mentality when things are going relatively good.  But come that whollop of struggle... that desire to "handle it" comes flying back.  

It's crazy how logic and emotion can play two very polar opposite roles.  Can create such a difference in struggle.  My logic knows what I need to do.  My emotions go running wildly in the opposite direction.  And my faith begins to feel...well, weak.  Because I'm scared.  Lets be honest.  That's what it comes down too.  I'm...scared.  

Scared to hurt when the answer is not what I've been praying for.  Scared to be pushed in a new direction.  Scared to find the courage to face a new path.  Scared to be challenged.

I guess I've felt to stretched, pushed, challenged for so long that I'm beginning to feel like one of those rubber stretch toys that you can pull in a million different ways...except, I keep wondering when I'm going to snap :)  

Yet, that's where I appreciate and am thankful for my stubborn side.  I refuse to be beat.  Even when I feel I've been worked over to a bloody pulp.  I refuse to give up, even when it all feels so bleak.  I refuse to cave to the devil's lies...because I know...he lies.  He doesn't love me, he wants to destroy me.  So for that very fact...I refuse to let him win.  He will not take me down.

I may hurt.  I may question.  I may wonder how I will take my next breath.  But I WILL fight.  Even when it hurts every fibre of my being.  I will fight.

There are two songs that have reeeeeeally been my daily encouragement lately.  Well, there are TONS, but these two particularly help give me the strength I need through the day.  They are both from the CD "Here for You" by Passion.  I wish I were more Blogger-Savey so I could just link the two songs from youtube, but if you ever want to hear them, just go to youtube and search for Here For You - Always, and Here For You - Sometimes.  

Seriously...listen to them.

But for now, I want to share the lyrics.  And I hope that even just reading the words encourage someone.  I really have no idea who or if anyone reads this blog much any more, but for whoever does...I hope these lyrics strike a cord (though hearing the actual songs will really really touch you, I just know it!).

Sometimes - Passion

Sometimes every one of us feels

Like we'll never be healed

Sometimes

Sometimes every one of us aches

Like we'll never be saved

Sometimes

When we've given up 

Let Your healing come

When there's nothing left

Let Your healing come

'Til we're rising up

Let Your healing come

Where You go, we will follow

Where You go, we will follow

It's Your love that we adore

It's like a sea without a shore

We're lost in You, we"re lost in You

It's Your love that we adore

It's like a sea without a shore

We're lost in You, we're lost in You

Sometimes

Sometimes

It's like we'll never atone

For all the love we've known 

Sometimes

Like in a smile or a song

When you feel it come

And that feeling's gone

It flies

When we've given up

Let Your healing come

When there's nothing left

Let Your healing come

Feel it rising up

Let Your healing come

Where You go, we will follow

Where You go, we will follow

Always - Passion

My foes are many

They rise against me

But I will hold my ground

I will not fear the war

I will not fear the storm

My help is on the way

My help is on the way

Oh, my God

He will not delay

My refuge and strength, always

I will not fear

His promise is true

My God will come through, always

Always

Trouble surrounds me

Chaos abounding

My soul  will rest in You

I will not fear the war

I will not fear the storm

My help is on the way

My help is on the way

I lift my eyes up

My help comes from the Lord.

Truly, if you can go listen to the songs...you won't regret it.

Don't give in.  Don't give up.  Find your fight...and fight!

And know that I am praying for us all!