Close to Home

I just finished Karen Kingsbury’s Summer, the 2nd in a series of 4 books. I sobbed my way through the final chapter, where a woman gives birth to a baby girl, only to lose her a few hours later due to a birth defect. She and her husband knew the baby would die, but chose not to abort and they got to spend those few precious hours with her as a result.

Very close to home, People. Very close to home.

When we conceived quadruplets, EVERY SINGLE DOCTOR told us to “reduce” i.e. kill two of the babies so the rest had a better chance. Due to their positions, Bennett and Connor would have been the ones chosen to die. We lost Connor 10 hours after he was born. Bennett is still with us 8 1/2 years later and I cannot, for one moment, imagine life without him.

We finally found a high-risk pregnancy specialist who saw things our way, namely, NO THANK YOU WE DON”T WANT YOU TO KILL OUR BABIES! and things smoothed out from there, until the babies were born prematurely at 25 weeks.

Reading through this fictional character’s experience brought everything back. Holding Connor, saying good-bye, seeing Jim hold him and watching as his little life went to heaven.

I prayed this afternoon, thanking God that Connor would never have to experience all the junk down here that we have to–all the political messes, racial stuff, hatred, worry, anger etc. He’s living out a perfect life with Jesus. And someday–some blessed, wonderful day–I will get to meet him.

Karen’s book said this: Life is God’s to give and God’s to take.

Big Week

Sorry my posts have been the “fly by” kind. We’ve been cleaning and getting ready for the Annual Big Birthday this weekend. 31 people, including us, on Saturday. That’s a big party! And we’re going to Dutch Wonderland tomorrow. My niece is sleeping over tonight so she can go and help us.

I’ve already been playing the “Eight years ago I was…”. Today is: resting in the hospital, finally allowed to eat since I’m off the mag sulfate. This is my 5th day there, and I have six more before the kids come.

And yes, around this time every year I DO think about Connor and miss him more. I’m thinking of taking the kids next week and putting flowers on his grave. Their birthday is on Tuesday and he died the next day.

Definitely looking forward to seeing him again in Heaven.

Unexpected Moments

I’m in tears from reading this blog. I know the heartache, the pain, the peace. I also know the questioning, anger, rage and powerlessness that she didn’t seem to go through.

Out of the blue, a few days ago Catie said “Mommy, I wish we had five kids instead of four. I wish Connor hadn’t died.” Me too, Catie, me too.

Bennett just came up, freshly showered and smelling sweet and gave me a big hug. He’s getting so big. I wonder if Connor would have been tall like him or shorter like Ethan. Connor’s hair was blonder at birth than any of the others–I wonder if he would still be blond or getting darker like Bennett and Laura?

Many times I am completely fine with waiting until heaven to see my son. The death of a child isn’t something you “get over”, but the every day heartrending loss becomes more of a dull ache in a corner of your heart. Most of the time you are able to get on with life using the rest of that heart, but sometimes something will hit that sore spot and the tears will flow. And I believe it’s a good thing to cry over that loss, be it one or twenty years later.

We were not created for loss. We were not created to be finite, but perfect. God in his graciousness made a way to get around what Adam and Eve did, but going through loss is still not the original Plan.

Coming back to this much, much later….after Bennett attended his first non-family birthday party. He did great, with no potty issues, and I sat and talked with a lot of moms with some sort of connection with special needs kids. I gave my name and number to two who know moms who are thinking about Overbrook so they can talk to me about it. I’d love to be a support for that school–it’s AMAZING. I wish I had someone “older and wiser telling me what to do” in this path with a blind child, but I’d also like my journey to be worth it to someone else.

So this was a little disjointed (just like my life!). Sorry about that!