October 2, 2012

Day 2: The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

The reason I started this blog was to attempt to cope with the tremendous loss of the two souls my husband and I created. Writing became unbelievably cathartic for me. It was and is a form of therapy I never knew I needed so much.

Then, I stopped. I stopped because there became three hearts my own ached for. Three. Her name is Kate and she was with us, and now is every bit a part of us as her brothers. We lost her towards the end of the first trimester. We found out on Christmas morning that we were pregnant, and what a perfect miracle angel she is. It was a perfectly smooth pregnancy until we found out that her heart had stopped beating. I don't want to focus on the emotions that go along with that today. Today, I want to simply focus on her and the fact that she existed and still does very much live on in our hearts and minds.

From the very moment I found out I was pregnant with her, I just knew she was a precious girl. I can honestly say that I cherished every second of that pregnancy, and I wrote letters to her each week that I longed to share with her down the road.  I would love to share on here, as well, if for no other reason than to document our lives. We thought we were going to bring her home from the hospital and while we knew every one of the risks, we were so thankful, so hopeful. She healed our hearts in a way I did not know was possible. Only she could do that.

Sadly, the future we had planned for her wasn't to be. We said goodbye to her on February 2nd. Another angel.

We were very cautious about sharing the news of our pregnancy with others, that not many people even knew we were pregnant when we lost her. It became overwhelming to make the decision to "go about life as if nothing had happened" or to then go back and tell people what was going on, why I was such a mess. It was right in the middle of the school year, and I didn't have the summer to grieve, as I did with the twins.

I decided to push through it, work through it, move through it. It was the most physically painful thing I have ever endured. I decided not to talk about it to many people at all. And, I got mad. I became so angry but also so determined to build our family back up. I felt like a bull. I just wanted to stamp my feet, put my head down, and charge.  Anger, among many others, is the prominent emotion I remember on that day in the doctor's office, lying on the ultrasound table.

Then, Kate blessed us with another miracle. We were devastated and we cried for her life that would not be lived as we had hoped. We were frustrated beyond words. Our hearts ached and a void was created that will never fully be filled. But one thing was different than with losing the twins. We knew we would survive it. See, when we lost the twins, I truly and simply thought I would cease living. I would die of a broken heart. I did not and could not fathom getting through such indescribeable pain. But somehow, somewhere along the way, I did. I miss them every moment of every day, and I can still cry at the drop of a dime, but I am alive. I survived the unimaginable and I just knew I would do it again. Thank you, my sweet angels, for that gift.

I was dealing with losing Kate, but hadn't shared that fact with many others. I didn't want the the sympathetic looks, the extra attention, the questions. I did want to write, but didn't want to do so without acknowledging such a beautiful life that has graced ours in countless ways. I felt guilty. How could I go on blogging about anything and everything without shouting out from the rooftops that we have a little girl in Heaven? I just couldn't. So, I didn't. Until now. I realize I am putting myself out there for the world to see, and that's okay. I don't fear the looks or questions anymore. I know everyone means well. I hope that people who know me "in real life" will be sensitive enough to respect our situation and all I really ask for is prayer.

Then, we lost two more babies this summer. One right after the other. I have lost babies in various stages of pregnancy, from very early to much later and I can truly say I desperately wanted to bring each one home from the hospital with us. Desperately. With each one, a heart has been created, a life has existed. As painful as it is, I cannot go on without acknowledging each one.

We've asked all the questions. We've been given all the tests. We don't know why this keeps happening. We switched clinics, are now in the hands of a new doctor who has a new plan and complete faith in us. I do, too. Faith is powerful. So is love. We are full of both.

That's the truth. The whole truth. Nothing but the truth. Thank you for reading if you've made it this far. I am a mommy. With 5 babies in Heaven. I will hold them in my arms one day and I pray, with all of my strength, that we are blessed with the ability to walk out of the hospital with our living, breathing, healthy baby or babies in our arms. There is no greater prayer for us. No deeper truth.
Courage is not always a loud ROAR. Sometimes, it's the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, will try again tomorrow.

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