Grief

So, I brought it up a couple of posts ago and then again in my last post - I am desperately struggling to prepare myself mentally for this next treatment. It takes so much prayer and positive thinking to get me through each of these treatments and the fact that I can't do that right now is going to make it very difficult for me to get through this one.

April 20, 2009 Jason and I made the trip to the doctor's office for my monthly check-up to only find out that our  baby boy no longer had a heartbeat. I can tell you that day was one of the worst days of my life - definitely comparable to the day I was diagnosed with Lymphoma.

I was well past the first trimester, well past the stage where I had lost my other babies, well past the stage of worry. I had truly let my guard down and I was truly devastated. I will never forget that moment - staring at an ultrasound screen where there should have been a heartbeat, yet there wasn't one.

I remember talking to God at that moment telling Him that I knew He could restart my baby boy's heart. I remember asking Him, then begging Him through the silent sobs of my heart, and then finally telling Him that I would love Him even if He didn't start my baby's heart again. Those were some of the hardest words I have ever said to my Father in Heaven. Ironically, nearly two years later my dear husband said those same words to God about me. "If you take my wife - I will love you anyway."

I can tell you personally that these are words that I never thought I could say in a moment like that but it was in that moment that I knew I had to the most. I just felt like there was a fork in the road before me and I had to make a choice to either let that moment separate me from God or allow God to draw me in closer to Him. By telling Him that I would love Him no matter what I was confirming that I intended to stay on the path that lead to God and nowhere else. As I think back to that moment I think that was probably the easy part - the choice. Living it out was much harder.

I won't get into the whole story now - honestly thinking about it really is too upsetting even two years later. The memory that floods back the most is the one and only time that I got to hold my son. I still relive that moment over and over again and it still hurts deeply. I can see his little toes and his little fingers. I can see his blue eyes....

Who knew that two years later I would be having my sixth chemo treatment on the same day. How do I prepare my heart to get through the chemo when my heart is experiencing so much sadness for our loss? It seems impossible to do both but I must find a way. I know some would say that I need to look at all I have to be grateful for - and I do. I see my husband and my four children and I thank God profusely for them but that doesn't mean that I can forget about my son or the other babies that I have lost either. I remember and grieve for each of them on their own special days - I have just never had to face chemo on one of those days as well.

I guess I am writing about this for several reasons. First, it is what I do - write. Second, I can desperately use the prayers. Third, I never know when something I am experiencing or have experienced is going to touch someone else's life. Just maybe this is one of those situations.