Up and Down

I decided to start this post off with the good news, since that seems to be in short supply these days. When I went to the doctor last week, the sonogram showed that I am probably closer to 16 weeks along. That's a lot further along than we had anticipated, but at least everything looks good- so far. (He also told us that he's pretty sure it's a girl this time. He's not 100% certain, but he's pretty sure. We'll see if he's right when we have the next sono.)

He started me on progesterone injections to help stop the early contractions I'm prone to, and we have an appointment next week with a specialist in Dallas for genetic counseling, a more in-depth sonogram and a fetal echo. Because of what Holden has been through, we are considered higher risk, and I don't know if I'll be able to sleep at night until we know that everything is okay. At last week's sonogram, the doctor said everything looked okay with the heart- as far as he could tell- but we'll need a closer look to be sure. I'm hoping and praying with all that I'm worth that this baby will be healthy. I want this child to have a chance... The chance Holden never had.

I still haven't shared much about the day we lost Holden. I may never be able to share the details. But I can tell you that I still hold on to so much from those hours that I have to daily lay it down in prayer, or I'd be crushed. I am forever thankful that I was able to hold my sweet boy as he let go of this world and all of the pain it held for him. I am forever thankful for the many doctors and nurses who frantically, tirelessly worked to save his life. We saw the true hearts of the people who work at Children's Medical Center that day, and we love them for that.

But that thankfulness doesn't take the pain away. I haven't found the answer for that one yet. I didn't turn to medication (as would have been so easy to do and, at one point, was heavily suggested by many people around me). I don’t want anything to numb me. The reality of it is that my son died, and I want to feel the void that he leaves in my heart. Not cover it up or medicate it, even for a little while. I want to remember every single thing about my little man. I want to remember what I miss so much.

I miss his open mouth kisses- when we were lucky enough to be on the receiving end. The way he held his mouth open like a little bird because he was too lazy to feed himself. Hearing him say "night night" with his cute little wave every time we headed towards the bedroom. Waking up to his smile inches away from my face- He woke up every single day with a smile, no matter how bad he felt or how horrible his day would be. The way he had to touch both Trent and me at all times throughout the night- one of us wasn't good enough, he wanted both. Walking behind his stroller for hours on end, guided by his grunts and squeals to let us know what direction he wanted to turn that day. His excitement about reading his books, and his love of turning the pages for me. I could keep going... There are countless things to list.

So this is my reality. It sucks, but it's mine. I think that’s why this point in time is the hardest so far…the shock has long since worn off and the harsh reality of what my life will be like for as long as I walk this earth is setting in.

What gives me hope to put one foot in front of the other is that I know my life doesn't end here. This isn't it. We have been given Eternity, where I'll be able to hold my sweet little man once again. That is what brings me hope even as I am crying. I sincerely wish everyone who mourns his loss finds that same hope. Hope is rewarded. Prayers are answered. Maybe not in the way that we ask for, but they are answered.

We prayed for a miracle and we got it. We prayed that he be healed and he was…perfectly. We're honoring His plan for Holden's life, and He will be faithful. Even when I can’t see the plan through tears and my entire body hurts with grief, He is faithful.

My devotion the other day was titled “Do you trust God’s Will for your life?” I thought about that a lot. More than I should have. If I'm going to be completely honest, I would have to say that sometimes I'm just not so sure I do. That's hard for me to admit. Nobody wants to be that “ye of little faith” person. But I'm sure that someone reading this completely understands. Some days it's just harder to find that trust.

Trust or not, our lives don't stop. We keep going, putting one foot in front of the other. Even when it hurts. And it often hurts.

We do it because it's God’s Will. And I'm learning to trust Him.