One Year & Seven Months

Yesterday was a beautiful day. We got up late (we being Trevor & I, the boys were up by 6am), I made waffles and the boys played Wii. At noon we got the boys dressed for Little League evaluations, went to the ball field and watched our boys do their very best to pitch, run, catch and field. Afterwards we went to Chai's grave and told him all about our day. It was a great day, but one that came with an introspective and meditative heart. February 12th, the marks the one year anniversary of finding out some of the best news in the world: that we were pregnant. Seven months ago was the hardest day of my life, the day my sweet son died after 25 hrs of life.

The other night as I lay in bed with the boys, I told them I wanted to choose our book for the night. I chose Love You Forever. The boys did their usual, "This was me mommy," and "This will be me mommy," bit as I got it off the shelf. But tonight I said, "We are gonna read in memory of Chai." As I read it we talked about all things Chai would have done had he lived and how fun life would have been with a little brother. But the thing that rang most true to me was the song the mother sang to her son each night.

I love you forever

I like you for always

As long as I'm living

My baby you will be.

You see I needed that night to know and feel, that Chai will always be my son. Just because he is not here doesn't mean he stops being my son. When Trevor got home that night I had a good cry. I just told him how hard this last month and half has been for me. In the past month I have had the hopes of being pregnant, the pain of finding out I'm not, found out several people close to me are pregnant, walked through grief with our neighbor whose husband suddenly died, and met another mom who has lost a son who was able to soothe my soul by reminding me that I'm not alone. All along February 12th loomed in the near future.

One of the things I told Trevor was that I feel strong enough now to answer the question , "How many kids do you have?" with "Three." You see, I think it is a common instinct to desire to protect others from feeling bad or guilty when asking a question they have no idea is going to cause you so much pain. So, for the past three months I would answer that question, "Two." But it always caused me such pain, because I felt I was leaving Chai out, in essence saying, he is not my son because he is not here. This could not be further from the truth. As long as I'm living my baby you will be. I am strong enough now, to answer that question and not fear man's response. I'm sorry if it causes you some discomfort, but it is my heart's desire to share Chai and his story with the world. One day for the fame of Jesus and the glory of God.

In the midst of it all, God continues to be my peace and my rest. It doesn't mean the hurt goes away or the memories aren't painful, but it does mean when those times creep in, I can go to Him and give Him my hurts and my fears and my doubts. In return He graciously comforts me and increases my faith in him. My relationship with God and His gospel has grown and strengthened in this deep suffering. I love Him more with each passing day. I am more grateful for the days He gives me with my children and my husband. It is not promised to me, it is by His grace that we have another day.

So I continue to dance the dance that is grief, but I do it with God as my partner. If I stumble, if I fall, He is right there to pick me up. For that I am forever grateful.