Broken.

How can I write this post and make it sound not raw, or too sad? I don't think I can.

With every pregnancy that we could, we have had genetic testing done on our babies. I mentioned before that we both have had every test under the sun, and when given the opportunity we have opted to have our babies tested, as well. The hope was always that we'd have some answers. Not that it would provide us any solace, comfort. Not that we'd have any reason to celebrate. No. Answers. Reasons we could put our hands on for why this keeps happening.

Every test we have had done has come back normal. And every test we have had done on our babies have showed that they, too, were normal. Perfect, really. Normal, perfect babies.

Yesterday I found out that the baby we said goodbye to in September was also normal. And, he is a boy.

The moment I found out, the lump in my throat returned so much that it left me short of breath. My heart broke into even tinier pieces, as if it were even possible. I completely expected to hear that our baby was chromosomally normal. I would not ever wish for my child to have an abnormality and always pray for a healthy baby. But, for the fourth time, I heard that our baby was normal. Which brings the thought I can't push down, up to the surface yet again.

I am broken.

Please know that I am not, in any way, searching for words of sympathy when I write this. I really just needed to get the words out. TJ gets so, so upset when I say it, and I know that I did everything in my power to will this baby into our arms. I prayed so hard and hoped my heart out that my body wouldn't let me down.

But my body did let me down. And because of that, I let myself down. I let my husband down. I let my baby down. My baby, who could have been born healthy and happy had he had a mommy who wasn't broken.

And, just like that, I've lost my baby all over again. It's so familiar. I start to feel like I'm coming back to the land of the living, am holding it together pretty well and then am completely thrown back by this information.

The moment I was alone, I fell to my knees. As I cried out loud, I pleaded with God. I begged Him to let me have understanding as to why this keeps happening. I pleaded with Him that we would not have another baby die. And, as I was doing this, I flashed back to a similar moment I had after we lost the twins. I couldn't stop asking WHY. Eventually, I stopped asking why. I developed a trust and a patience that definitely surpassed my own understanding. So when I heard my own pleas aloud yesterday, I knew they weren't the questions I should be asking. It's so hard not to, though. I wonder if I'll go through my whole life with that one word question ringing in my ears and sitting on my heart. I hope not. Having answers will not bring my children back. It may save the lives of any future children we are blessed with, but that's the future and we don't know about that.

My heart aches today as I miss my babies. I miss them everyday. I miss my boy whom I only had the pleasure of knowing for seven short weeks in my womb.  I want it to stop. It has happened too many times to us but it has happened too many times to so many other parents, too. If it has happened once, it has happened too much.

This post is dedicated to Eli, Michael, Kate, our baby boy and our two angel babies. It is dedicated to Max, Cord, Cam, Alex and every other baby who did not have the chance to leave the hospital. It is dedicated to my friends who have known the journey of loss, and for those who are praying for their turn to become parents.Please remember these babies and their parents today. They walk this earth with a piece of their heart missing. They smile, provide for and encourage others, but they are aching. It is such a gift for you to remember them and their babies.
Today is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day.