Heavy Heart.

Loss number seven. Let that weigh on your heart for a minute.

Imagine seven little ones playing together. Seven faceless babies. Seven babies that we will only get to see in heaven.

It weighs heavy on my heart this week. I cannot tell you the excitement I felt when I saw that dark pregnancy test. I knew in my heart (or thought I knew...) that the pregnancy was going to work out and we would get to bring home a baby, and experience a healthy pregnancy like with Matthew.

But my heart was wrong. Because you see with EVERY pregnancy I hope and pray and believe that this pregnancy will be the one to work out. Every single time. But unlike times in the past, I will NOT turn bitter. But that doesn't mean I won't be sad. It doesn't mean I cannot take time to grieve.

My heart is heavy. I am worn and crushed, and broken. But I have an amazing God. He is a healer. He makes the impossible possible. He is a miracle worker. He can handle my anger. He can handle my sadness. Disbelief. He can hold me when I cry and when I am speechless. But when there is bitterness in my heart, there isn't much room for God.

I can have a heavy heart without having a heart darkened with bitterness.

But when it comes to grieving a lost child it can be a delicate line to balance.

You see every time you hear of a pregnancy. See a newborn. You can be reminded of what you have lost, especially when your heart is heavy. During moments of joy you can see those miracles and thank God for them. But it is a little more difficult with a heart of sadness.

Yet, having Matthew DOES make it easier. I was listening to a radio broadcast the other day, or maybe I was reading a blog...either way there was a woman taking about how her parents lost 4 pregnancies, and had a baby born full term sleeping before they were blessed with her. She was talking about how grateful she was for her parents not giving up on her. For the life they allowed her to have by their faith and determination.

I want Matthew to know that he was worth the heartache, the struggle. And we will endure the same heartache and struggle if that is what God has called us to in order to bring him a sibling. This is 100% not the life I would have chosen for myself. BUT this is 100% the life God has called us to live. And we will do it to the best of our ability, but only because God is strong enough to hold us up while we go through it.

Thank goodness God can hold my heavy heart and still love me unconditionally.

Remembrance Day

Babies, I remember you every day. And I mean EVERY. But some days are harder. Much harder.

Like today. I feel like I haven't done enough to remember you, to celebrate the life that was. That people have and will forget you existed.

And they might.

But I won't. Much like an elephant never forgets, same with the grieving mother...she never forgets either.

I fear some days I am not doing my part to get to meet you in heaven. Not doing my part to remember you. And that makes my heart so very sad.

To our first little one, our Abigail. Father's joy. You were such a blessing. Three months in to trying and it felt like forever. Heartbreak every month that I thought was terrible. And then there was that second pink line. That hope shining through the darkness of news of PCOS and fear of infertility. I clung to hope. And in that hope I got the worst phone call of my life thus far. Telling me I was going to miscarry. You were gone.

That emotion I felt in those few short weeks from seeing that positive close to my birthday to seeing my body miscarry you on thanksgiving...roller coaster to say the least. Daddy still wants us to name a little girl Abigail if we have another, so we may be like Ms. Kay from Duck Dynasty and have another Abigail one day. But we will see.

The second pregnancy came as a shock. A blaring second line, on Christmas. Again hope. Heartbreak. And fervent prayer. Sammy, you will always be remembered. I have your picture. And I carry that image in my heart.

After Sam I got SO bitter and angry. The next 3 losses are our unnamed children. Which makes me sad sometimes because they are not any less important. And I feel I was so wrapped up in my hurt and the unfairness of it all that I never prayed for God to reveal their gender to me or a name to remember them by. I was so hurt, and unable to function at times emotionally. I am SO thankful God was able to hold you in his arms while mommy went through this awful time.

Then we got our Matthew and he has been the light of our world, but also a struggle at many moments. I wonder if you kiddos would look like him, act like him, have the Hillard scowl marks, or the Purdey mole on your foot. I wonder and dream. Quite often.

And I look at big brother and little brother shirts for Matthew, and debate about getting them for him. As a discussion piece. As a way for him to know you better.

Sometimes I wonder if he can see you guys, like the old ladies at work that tell me my children are beautiful. Sometimes he smiles at things I cannot see and I know it is something heavenly, and that leaves you up for grabs.

After Matthew we had one suspected ectopic. A surprise that made me wish I wasn't pregnant at that moment followed by acceptance and excitement. And yet again disappointment and regret for my emotions in the beginning.

To all 7 of my children, the 6 in heaven and the one lying next to me. Never wonder if you are loved. Because you are. Unceasingly, without end. Do not doubt. I loved you before I met you, I loved you before you were conceived, and I love you more each and every day.

My hope in my suffering and loss here on this earth is that in heaven some woman that experienced infertility and loss is able to hold you tight and help keep watch over you until Momma gets there and can squeeze you and fall in love with you all over again.