Being a Mom....

Being a mom is great. We love our kids, we love to watch them grow, learn things, and go from being babies to tiny humans. They begin to have thoughts, feelings, and opinions. We spend their early years teaching them the things they need to know and praying that the children we are raising are decent human beings. Being a mother is wonderful! You were hand chosen for this little person, specially picked to be exactly what they need! The day they are born you celebrate with much gusto, and your hearts are full of love. They smile at you for the first time, and all is right with the world. You watch them take their first step, and you are so overcome with emotion and pride that you shout it from the rooftops. “That’s my baby! He/She’s getting so big!”, and then you’re on to the next thing. You celebrate every triumph and cry with them through every tear, and it’s all sunshine and rainbows…until it isn’t. And we’ve all been there too, haven’t we? Oh, you know what I’m talking about. You woke up, had a cup of coffee that you only had to reheat one time, got everybody dressed, and nobody lost their sandal just before you were about to walk out the door. The morning was off to great start, and you say to yourself “Today is going to be a good day!” You get the kids strapped into the car, you reach into the diaper bag to pull out a sippy cup of purple for the 2 year old, and she stares at you, but doesn’t take it. You look into each other’s eyes, and there’s a moment of silence (I like to call this the eye of the storm) until all of the sudden, she screams. It’s not just any scream. It’s the high pitched sound of a child who wanted the PINK sippy cup, and YOU had the audacity to give her the purple one. And, if yours is like mine, she goes in to full on meltdown mode after just a few minutes and you begin to wonder if she’s crying about just the purple sippy cup or if maybe somehow she’s remembering and channeling every time that her little mind feels you’ve wronged her and using it in her fit of rage. When these kinds of things happen, we’re reminded of the parts of mom-ing that aren’t so great. And, if you’re like me, you wilt a little. You begin to fantasize about bedtime and that bottle of wine in the fridge, quietly calling your name. You’re not alone, because we’ve all been the victim of the toddler meltdown for one reason or the other. Some of us are fortunate enough to endure the meltdowns at home, some of us were given the pleasure of an audience at the local grocery store, and still others made the mistake of offering the wrong color cup at a restaurant having a nice family dinner. It happens. It’s so easy to feel isolated in those moments when you feel like you’ve lost control. It’s hard to keep moving forward when you feel like you’re failing at the whole mom gig entirely. It’s in those moments that we turn to other moms for some sort validation that we’re not screwing our kids up. We turn to other moms to hear their stories, to laugh with them, to cry with them, and to complain to them. Once we’re done, we set down our glasses of wine, pull up our big girl panties, and try again. Parenting is a bunch of triumphs with a fair number of missteps mixed in. They say it takes a village to raise a child, and that much is true, but we’re lucky enough to be members of a nation. A nation of mommas who are just taking it one day at a time, trying to get it right. A nation of mommas who- just like you, really do stand at the cupboard weighing the outcomes of pink and purple sippy cups, wondering whether the orange shirt or the green shirt is going to cause an “on our way to preschool” meltdown, and mentally preparing for the nightly bedtime battle. A nation of mommas who are just like us, who are different than we are, and who just want to be cared for and understood. We are part of something amazing. Something nurturing and constant, and what could be better than that?

Just babbling.

Today I am faced with my inadequacies. My tired body that doesn't work the way it should, my exhausted mind that tells me often how pitiful and useless I am. I have no patience. I listen too little and yell too much. I try to be their everything and instead I am nothing.

This is not for the ego boost you will see it for, because I know you will all say the same thing: "You're such a great mom! The kids are lucky to have you!" What else would you say? You see their smiles, you see their laughter. You see them run and play and occasionally you see them after they slip and fall. But you only see what I show you. You only see the parts of our lives that I allow for.

You don't see the days when Alexandria has spent so much of the day crying that she is in her crib (still crying) and I am locked in my bathroom crying with her. You don't see the times I get so angry over a glass of spilled milk that when I step out of my body and look at myself, I look like a lunatic--and when I step back in, I can see the terrified faces of my children. You don't see the days I wake up crying because i know today will be the same as yesterday and tomorrow will too. You don't see the pictures of my tear stained cheeks because I'm alone. Because I'm lonely. Because I'm doing this alone. You don't see me hunting the house, screaming like a maniac at 630am looking for socks because I didn't do the laundry..again. You don't see these things because I don't show you. I don't show you all the millions of ways I fail these children every single day. I don't show you the millions of ways I fail my family, the ways I fail myself.

But today....today they hit me like a ton of bricks. I looked around my house-at my children-at myself and realized I'm not doing them justice at all. They deserve so much more than this life....so much more than I could ever give them. Would Lizard act the way he does if I had 10 minutes to color a picture or play Thomas the train? Would Creeps have to ask me if I still love him because there's just no time for him anymore? Would Woogie want to be here if here was fun? Would Bert be quite so far behind if I gave her the time and attention she needed without wishing I were doing something else? Would Lissy smile more often...like she used to if I didn't yell at her for just being one? There is no end to the amount of love I feel for them, or to the number of things I would do to make them happy. I'm smart enough now to realize though that I can never give them those things. I can never be that person.  Its a pill I need to swallow, and then...move on.

Im tired. My body, my mind, and my heart are tired. I'll keep trying to prove I'm good enough. To you, to them...and maybe someday even to myself.

"Im still here, until I'm gone. Dont you rub in too hard that I've been wrong...all these years."

What I Need My Kids To Know...Today, and Everyday.

For the last few days, something has been weighing heavily on my mind. As parents, we are charged with raising our children to be the very best versions of themselves that they can be. We teach them right from wrong, we teach them about morals and ethics and what it means to just be a decent human being. And so, I take a look at my own children. What do I want to instill in my kids? What do I need them to know today? I came up with a few, and perhaps you can relate. 

Boys:
-Will you understand the value of a woman? Any woman? Every woman? Will you treat her-whoever she is-always with love and respect? Do you understand that you don't have to like them all, in fact-you probably won't...but you can never be unkind or abusive? 
-Will you realize that hitting a woman, regardless the reason makes you the weakest, lowest life form on the planet? Will you realize that there's never a good excuse? One day, when you're angry for all the ridiculous reasons that people get angry, will you raise your hand to her and think of your sister? Will you ask yourself what fury you'd feel if a man raised his hand to her? Will you know better than to ever let it get that far? 
-Will you realize that abuse is NOT just physical? Will you realize that calling her stupid, belittling her, talking down to her, and bullying her are ALL forms of abuse? Will you understand that as her partner you should build her up, and never, ever let her be torn down--let alone that you ever be the one doing the tearing? 
-Will you remember the way your daddy loved me, and carry that with you everywhere you go? Will you remember that touches are important? Kisses are important? TALKING is important. So many men forget that part. Fall in love with her mind, as much as her body. 
-Know that "no" ALWAYS means "no". Regardless whether you are courting her, dating her, or married to her, her body is her own. If she isn't in the mood, she isn't. Never, ever make her do something she doesn't want to do---that's sexual abuse, and that's not something a good man does. 
-Know that it's YOUR job to provide for your family when you choose to have one. No, I'm not saying that your lady can't work outside of the home. What I AM saying is--you SHOULD. Don't be content to stay home and let her take care of everything. Be her knight in shining armor-be her hero. Take the jobs that suck to pay the bills and keep food on the table. 
-If you value her enough to have sex with her, value her enough to face the consequences of those decisions. Be a decent man, be an AMAZING father. I have always lived by the mantra that you don't have to be a husband to be a dad. I believe that to the fullest. My greatest wish for you is that you find a beautiful girl, you get married, and THEN you have children. And you raise them together, happily. I wish I could say this was easy, or even common, but it's not. As your mother, I charge you with always being there for that child. Every day, even if it's a five minute phone call. Not every relationship works out. And if it doesn't, remember that you broke up with her, and not your children. Be their dad. The best one you can be. Don't give another man the opportunity to do the job better than you. 
-Know that you can always turn to your dad and I when these things don't make sense. When the world doesn't make sense. We don't have it all figured out, but we'll never stop trying to help you figure it out. 
-And finally, lead your family in Christ. In your father, you have the most amazing guide and example of what it means to be the Christian leader in your household. Always keep God first and the rest will fall into place every time. 

Felicity:
-Know your value. You are a beautiful girl, and as you age, you are only going to get more beautiful. The boys are going to chase you, and tell you everything you want to hear. They're going to be good at it. Don't settle for the first guy that winks at you. You're worth more than that. 
-Respect your body. We are living in a world where women, no, girls, are having sex at a frighteningly young age. I will never tell you NOT do it, because I was a young girl too, and I know what forbidding does to a person. What I will tell you is this: Your body is the most precious and sacred thing you have to give. When you are ready to give it to someone else, make sure that someone is worthy of the honor. Make him earn it. Any girl can hike her skirt up in the backseat of a car. Be the kind of girl that makes him prove he's better. Those are the kinds of girls they bring home to mommas like me. 
-If he hits you, he does NOT love you. I don't care what he says, I don't care what anyone else says. Men who love their women don't-no-can't hurt them. If by some chance I'm wrong, and he really DOES love you, it won't matter because if he hits you, your daddy is going to kill him. 
-Be goal oriented and career driven. Wanting to be a wife and have children is a wonderful goal, and is something I wish for you more than you could ever know. But before you do those things, think about what you want out of YOUR life. Do you want to go to college? Do you want to serve your country? What do you want to be when you grow up? Starting a family and a life will be so much easier if you've figured out how to support and maintain that lifestyle. 
-Find a man who is willing and able to take care of you. I want you to do so much better than I did. I want you to have your own job, your own career, your own path, and I want you to have the means to make it on your own if you had to. And then--I want for you the thing I did RIGHT. Find a man that would rather you didn't work. Find the man that is willing to work as hard as he has to so that you don't have to struggle. And when you find that man, work alongside him, and together create a successful, flourishing family. 
-You're not going to marry the first guy you fall in love with. There are going to be so many heartbreaks...I can't even begin to explain. When you really like a guy, and there will be a bunch, try to remember that it's temporary. When that doesn't work-and it won't, always have your best friend, your momma, ice cream, and a sad movie. Your momma will cry with you, your best friend will threaten him, and we will all eat ice cream and watch movies. These things are essential. 
-Your dad is going to be overprotective and worry about you too much. I will probably do the same. This world is a scary place, full of scary people. Not all of them are bad, in fact, most of them aren't. But remember, it only takes one bad one to change your life forever. Be street smart, keep your wits about you, and remember that there is NOTHING more important than your safety. 
-Marry a guy who honors and respects his mother. If he talks negatively about her, he's the wrong guy for you. Marry a guy who always puts God first. Above everyone, including you. Marry the guy who never gives you a reason to doubt him. If you take nothing else from my words of wisdom to you today, take this: If you are dating a man, and there are warning signs and red lights blinking all around you-he's the wrong guy. Those red blinking lights and warning signs will only get brighter and faster until a warning becomes a reality. Your intuition is your most valuable asset. Use it. 
-NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER be "the other woman" . God will never lead you to someone else's husband or boyfriend. If he's the one, make him prove it. If God's plan is truly for you to have him, then he will-at some point be un-involved and then you can pursue him. If he will cheat with you, it's highly unlikely he'd not cheat on you. 

And, for all of you-
Remember that if things get tough, and you don't feel like you can figure it out on your own, you have an amazing line of support  behind you. Our family is enormous, and so full of love. Your family-the one you have standing beside you today, and the one you will eventually create are everything. Right under God, your family is #1. They will always be there for you, always have your back, always take care of you. Even when they don't want to, even when they can't, even when they don't agree with you. Be open minded and optimistic. Family can come in the most unlikely of places and mean more than you could ever dream of. Open your eyes, ears, and heart to all experiences and live your life to the very fullest. No one else can do that for you. There will come a day when I won't be there to hold you hand. When that day comes, remember everything I've taught you, everything I wanted for you, and...if nothing else, the way I loved you. The way I always loved you. And boy, did I. You are all going to grow up to be such amazing, successful, kind-hearted people, and its going to be a hell of a journey. Remember how you got there, and be ever humbled. 

Just some things on my heart this morning

When I was growing up, I knew that someday I'd be a mom. I knew there were other things I wanted to be, of course I had ambitions, but above all else, I wanted to hear a tiny, little voice call me mommy. When I was 19 years old, and enlisted in the Air Force, that dream became a reality. I knew full well that I wasn't ready to be a mom, and I had NO idea how I was going to pull it off, but when that pregnancy test read positive, I never once considered not having it, and to this day, if I could do it all over again...I absolutely would. 9 months later, I gave birth to the most perfect little boy. He was absolutely beautiful and he changed the way I thought about everything. There's this quote that says "I never knew how much love my heart could hold until I was a mom." Truer words have never been spoken. It sounds cliche, but you just don't know until you're holding a life that you created. It's amazing. Each day passed and saw my little guy growing up and learning more. He's always been exceptionally smart for his age. Sometimes-he even busts out with something that I don't know. It's astounding. He was talking incredibly early, and it took the rest of his body a little bit longer to catch up with his intellect. Once he finally did start walking though, he was all over the place, and more like a 3 year old than the 1 year old he actually was. I knew he was destined for great things. Truthfully, I still DO know that. As Jason gets older, he exhibits other traits just as strongly as his intelligence. He's strong willed, he's stubborn. He's articulate, and he's brave. He's pig-headed, he's kind, he's thoughtful, he's loving, and he's generous. These are all qualities that I LOVE about him. They are qualities that are going to take him SO far in the long life that he has ahead of him. They are things that are going to make him an amazing father someday. They are going to drive his career so that he's successful. They are going to make him successful in everything he does. For all of those things, Jason is also high strung. He's anxious, and he's frustrated. He's energetic, and impulsive. He's intelligent and confused. These are the things that are not so easy to deal with most days. It's hard as a parent to know if you're doing right by your child. I never wanted to be the kind of parent that threw him on some kind of medication and let him go. I never wanted to consider that I'd need to do that. Lately though, I watch as my sweet boy, the light of my world, continues to struggle. As smart and generous as he is, he's also incredibly defiant and disruptive. He brings notes home that frequently feature the words "impulsive" and the phrases "out of his control". These are the kinds of things that you can' t fix as a parent. There's no magic mommy wand that I can wave, nothing I can say to him that is going to change the way he's wired. So this is when we're faced with those difficult decisions, about putting the life, personality and feelings of my 7 year old little boy in the hands of western medicine. I know it's what he needs. I truly do. I know he needs to see a doctor, and deal with whatever is plaguing his little heart. He needs to deal with the anger that he feels, over whatever is causing it. He needs to deal with the things that cause him anxiety, and he needs an outlet for the energy. The question has never really been whether or not to have him treated, the question has ALWAYS been "To what extent?". You see, I know this little boy. I know him better than any other person in the entire world. I know him better than he knows himself. I have watched him grow from a tiny infant, just learning about the world into the amazing person he is today. I know what makes him tick, I know what he loves and what he hates. I know what stresses him out, what sets him panicking, and what calms his nerves. I KNOW him in a way that only a mother can. The struggle in my mind, today and everyday, is: what do we treat, and what is just Jason? He has quirks that he's had since he was old enough to display them. He's got ways about him that make you say "Well, that's Jason." I so badly want to take care of my son, yet am so afraid to be treating a personality rather than a condition...if that even makes any sense. Sometimes, I can't make sense of what's going on in my own head. I wonder often if this is how his brain feels. 

So the first step in moving forward was calling the pediatrician this morning. We're going to start the process by finding someone that he can talk to. Someone who is going to take the time to get to know my Jason for every amazing thing he is before throwing him on some random medication, regardless what it is. And then we're going to wait it out. Once we come to whatever determination it is we come to, we're going to have to pull together as a family to be the very best we can be for him. We're going to have to be more tolerant, less emotional, and less impulsive ourselves....because he's going to need support and love more than he ever has. Jason can be so frustrating, but truly all I want for him is for EVERYONE to see the amazing person that's under the anxiety and impulses. I want a change to the way the talk about him. Instead of "Jason's a great kid, and we love him, but...", I want to hear "Jason's an awesome kid, and we love him." There truly is so much to love. I've got to get some resolve, and pray on the changes that we'll need to go through. I know that God is holding my little guy in His hands, and I know that He's going to point us in the direction of what is best for Jason, regardless the opinion of anyone else. It doesn't matter what I think, or what D thinks, or what anyone else thinks, because God knows...and He's going to put the right people in our path to make my boy happy and whole again. I just have to hand it to Him and give Him the opportunity. Sometimes that's the hardest part. 

Felicity

Congratulations, you're pregnant!

Wait.....what?

So...by now, all of you know that D and I are expecting again. Whoa. Yea, I pretty much would have rather been disemboweled than pondered the idea of having a 4th (5th) child. It seems as I get older, I lose the patience for the shenanigans that once were so easy to follow. People who say parenting is easier as you get older lied. I got the news and thought to myself that it was impossible, of course they had to be wrong. After all, I'd had my tubes tied, I'd been on birth control, and frankly, hadn't had the time or energy to be very sexually active anyways. God had other plans. After putting it off for weeks, I finally made the trip to the ER to find out what was going on....and SURPRISE! There's a BABY in there. Yikes. 14 weeks of tiny, growing fetus. I told D when I got home from the hospital that night, and watched as his jaw hit the floor. I could definitely relate to that feeling. Both of us were feeling...overwhelmed. (Honestly, we kind of still are.) One day and a visit to my primary OB later, we decided to embrace the plans that God has for us, and the first step in THAT difficult direction was telling our family. We chuckled about it a little, because no one was going to expect to hear I was pregnant after my tubal. Boy. The support was overwhelming. Instead of the frustration, harsh words, and anger we were expecting, we got love. I could go on and on and not cover how much it meant to us to NOT have to endure lecture after lecture. After all, no one was as shocked and frustrated as we were. We kept chugging along, making sure everyone from the family knew, and then before we knew it, it was time for our gender reveal. The best part of finding out you're pregnant at 14 weeks is that you only have to wait 2 weeks to find out what you're having! So, we headed out to the doctor, prepared to hear the news that we would be adding a 4th boy to our already competent soccer team. God had other plans though, and we both sighed and I cried when the ultrasound technician said... "It's a girl!" We excitedly told the rest of the family that we were expecting the girl we'd been hoping for. The rest...as they say-is history.

    Today, I am 23 weeks pregnant. Which means, what? I'm halfway through this thing, with just 16 weeks left to go. This pregnancy has been so complicated. It's been extremely high risk since day one. I've basically been on bed rest since I found out I was pregnant. Honestly though, that's the part that's easy. The part that's hard is emotional. Each time there's a pain that's a little more extreme than the rest, my mind goes to that dark place. Any time I go the day without feeling her move, I automatically begin to mentally prepare myself for the worst. It's funny how loss changes you in that way. I remember being grateful for the times when Logan wasn't kicking because I could sleep. With Owen, I panicked when he didn't move around. With this one, it's a calm sort of resolve. I don't freak out and rush to the hospital---I just begin to prepare myself for the bad news. The thing I "know" is coming. Then she kicks me hard in the belly, and I cry. Being jaded is hard. The end of this week will see me officially out of the "danger zone". Since my latest loss happened at 23 weeks, we are to be on hyper vigilant alert mode until the end of this week. After that, it's business as usual until she decides to make her appearance. She has overcome so many odds to still be kicking, with her little heart beating so strong...i have a feeling that she knows she is for this world. She is supposed to teach D and I something, she's supposed to be here. She's supposed to touch the lives of everyone in some way. It's easier to keep from freaking out when I think of her in this way. God has a purpose for her, that much is clear. I am so looking forward to watching her grow and discovering what that purpose actually is. Until then....I'll probably be a little overly worried, a little hysterical, and a little bit of an alarmist. When you've lost and hurt as i have, no pain is insignificant, and everything is worth worrying about until it isn't anymore. There's so much to love about this pregnancy and what it means though, that I'll have to be hysterical while remembering to enjoy every single minute. <3

Where is God?

I hear this a lot. It annoys me kind of, but it didn't used to. Used to be, I was the one saying it. Thinking it. Feeling it. Where was God on that morning in January when she didn't have a heartbeat? Where was God when I said goodbye to my beautiful girl, my only girl? Where was God when I couldn't get out of bed, when I couldn't be a mother to the 2 boys who desperately needed me to be? I know now though, that sometimes Heaven is silent. 

Sometimes the only evidence of it lies in the wonder of the night sky, the twinkling of the stars. The presence of something that can't be of this world. You look up and think to yourself...yea, that must be Heaven. Often though, it's hiding. It seemed to me that the only soul in the world that mattered had left this cold, hateful place and brightened up the streets of Heaven. Sometimes, when I'm holding her tiny urn, and I'm standing on the waterfront...the place where love and grief unite...it feels like purgatory. I'm begging for Heaven's gateway to open so I can see her again. It doesn't. 

Your urn is a promise that you are close to me, yet you still seem so far away. We celebrate your birthdays and angelversaries as evidence to those around us that we still care. The balloons float to the Heavens, and the flowers that celebrated your life wither and die. Perhaps the flowers are doing something we just can't. They've accepted that the only way to reach you is through death. They die so you may know we care. 

At night, I am plagued by dreams of what could have been, what should be have been. I love them, but they hurt me. The interactions with women and their daughters that I see throughout my days become transient memories of my own. I dream of things I've done with you. No, I haven't. Those are things experienced by another woman. A woman whose daughter didn't die. I cling to these dreams though, revel in them when they come. The joy is gone as quickly as it came, when the sun comes up. 

 I've spent a fair amount of time yelling at the skies, offering a trade for my daughter. I'd give my life for hers. Only the love of a parent could drive a person to do these kinds of things, but I do. As is always the case, the sky doesn't answer me. Heaven reveals nothing of it's incredible beauty, of the light she dances in. Instead, it's answer is rain. Perhaps a response of the angels, of my daughter...who cry because I do. 

In desperation, I turned my eyes back to God. He does nothing new, yet he provides me with the kind of continual hope that can only come from him. Someday I'll see you again. Someday there will be a sign. Regardless of what I say or do though, Heaven remains hidden, and you do too. 

On my best days, I fight the silence. On my best days, I have the courage to say your name out loud. It sounds majestic to me, and I talk about you. I put on the face that says "I'm okay", and I do the day to day. When it's over....I go home. You're still not in my arms, and I'm alone. I hide behind the walls in my room, and I live with the secrets I hold in my heart. I pray. 

It seems to me that you must be a step behind me. Heaven is so open and beautiful and without rush that you have no need to move quickly. Nothing is with urgency. Perhaps you are only a step ahead....always turning the corner before me. I think sometimes I can see the back of your curly head, just a step ahead of me, squealing with delight, tickled by the freedom that is Heaven, happy with the love that comes from Jesus. Or maybe neither is true. Maybe, just maybe...you walk beside us. Always hidden in plane sight, blending in with the trees as we make our way through this life without you. 

Sometimes, in the middle of the ordinary, I catch a glimpse of a light in my minds eye. It's like you've dropped the lantern that lights your way. For an instant, I see your face. I see God. As quickly as you come, you are gone again, but you brought with you the hope that one day Heaven will no longer maintain it's silence. That you are up there, you are happy, and you are walking the streets of gold hand in hand with our Lord and Savior. For this reason, we carry on. We keep walking, we keep moving forward. We praise the Lord that watches you, that cares for you, and we pray for and thank God for the little moments when we get to see Heaven.

 

Something...

I blog a lot about Bella. I know I do this: I started this blog because of her. An outlet for my feelings, a way to talk about something that people don’t like to talk about that. I know it do it, and I can own it. Sometimes other topics really get me stirred up, and I feel moved to talk about them. Today, I’m going to write about a combination of the two…in something that has changed my heart. It’s been both healing, and absolutely destroying. It’s interesting how they can co-exist. The other night…after waiting for months, I watched the movie that the Stillbirth community has been very (im)patiently waiting for. Return to Zero stars Minnie Driver, who to be honest, I usually don’t really care for. Her movies are always just “so-so” to me, and I don’t follow them. I’m not sure if this movie is different because she acted in such a way that I actually believed her, or if it’s because the topic of the movie was so close to my heart. The scene is simple, really. A woman, who is very pregnant, finds out she is expecting a baby  boy. She and her husband are very excited for his arrival, and so in love with him. At 38 weeks, when she should have been waiting for him to make his debut, pains send her to the doctor where her worst fears are confirmed. There is no heartbeat. This is first heart-wrenching moment of the movie. She pleads with the doctor, begging him to check again….begging him to find the heartbeat that wasn’t there. I can relate to that. Oh boy. The rest of the movie follows her struggle with grief, with coping, with social situations, and eventually with being pregnant again. I can relate to those feelings too. At one particular part of the movie, a woman is talking to her about God. This woman is going on and on about everything happening for a reason, and “God’s Plan”. This part of the movie hit me so hard that I actually was crying and laughing at the same time. I remember giving up on God after the loss of Bella. I remember crawling into a hole and refusing to come out of it. I remember being down as far as I could get and not WANTING to come out, not wanting to be saved. I remember that hurt. At one point in the movie, the main character said something that had run through my head so many times it was actually kind of scary. I can’t remember or find the exact quote, but this is the best summary I can give you. She looked into this woman’s eyes and asked her how it was in God’s plan to have her suffer a loss so great that it caused her to lose her faith in God. Wow. I was so floored. Wait a minute, you mean other people are feeling this too? This happened to someone besides me? I couldn’t believe it. Once I got over the shock of what I heard, and the laughter died down, I began to cry. How had I been so blind? How had I been so stupid? How had I allowed myself to walk away from Jesus, when I needed his arms to hold me the most? Why didn’t I realize then what I know now? God’s plan for Daniel and I was to have Owen…something that never would have been if we’d had Bella. God gives us the tools we need to endure the suffering. Why didn’t I realize then that he was holding me? Why didn’t I realize that I survived because she did not? There are so very many things I would do differently if I could go back in time and change things. I tell myself often that I would bring her back, I would save her…but the honest to God’s truth is that I wouldn’t. Nothing I could do or could have done would save her life…if she hadn’t died that way, she would have died another. I can own that now. This movie was healing for that purpose. Towards the end of the movie, we watch her give birth to her baby boy. We watch her push…and push and push…and he won’t come out….he’s not helping her. We watch her break down, plead with him…tell him that it’s ok…that she loves him…that he can let go….we watch her agonize, and then I agonize with her. I remember this. This is familiar to me. I remember pushing out a baby who I knew wouldn’t respond to me. I remember that. And then…there he is. He’s small and purple and quiet. He doesn’t cry…and she doesn’t expect him to….and we watch. We watch her go through the motions…she’s there but not really. I remember that too. I wish I had the pictures, I wish I had the memories depicted in this movie but I don’t…I hate that. Those are the things I’d do again. Those are the decisions I’d make for us and not for the time and comfort of others. And so, I walk away from this movie changed. How often does a movie truly change your life? I walk away from this movie knowing that I really am not alone. Every line of dialogue was something I had said…something I had thought. Much of it was things Daniel had said to me. I proudly say that my relationship with Daniel emerged stronger rather than weaker for having lost her…neither of us cheated or hated the other….we came together and we grieved together. I’m proud of us for that. We are 1.5 years into our rainbow baby, and 3 years into our grief process and we are still, at times, learning exactly how to do it all. We learn what kind of parents we want to be, we learn what kind of bereaved parents we need to be. We do it together. But now we know that we aren’t alone. It’s not just us. We are the 1 in 4, but we aren’t the only ones. There are 1 in 4’s everywhere…learning to live again…and understanding that that’s okay. If you’ve lost a baby or even if you haven’t….you NEED to watch this movie. It’s beautiful, it’s moving, it’s amazing. I’ll be watching again SOON.