Four times the Love

When we decided to become parents, we thought it would be easy. Not the parenting part. We knew that would be a journey of trials and errors and celebrations and triumphs. But, the getting there part. We thought that would be easy. It took seven months to conceive Chuck. I know now that’s a blink compared to some struggling to become parents. My pregnancy with her was hard. I think most pregnancies are, but the hardest part was the day the dr couldn’t find her heartbeat. I was 20 weeks along and I braced myself to become my worst nightmare. After an agonizing two days and an appointment with a specialist, our girl was declared completely fine and normal. We rejoiced at the news and went merrily along under the assumption that we had experienced our parenting hurdle. Because we only get one, right? Little did we know….

When Chuck was two, we decided she needed a sibling. Both my husband and I come from large families and we wanted our girl to know the joy of a brother or sister. This time, it was easy. But easy things don’t always last. Mora, or “Blue,” was our first baby born in heaven. Bug came along directly after- our “rainbow” baby, as babies born after loss are called. The night he was born, I held him in my arms and clearer than any human voice I heard God say to me, “he’s not your last.” This was actually really shocking to me. Here was my son, no more than 8 hours fresh, my perfect daughter was at home with Papa and we were done. The girl, the boy, the “dream,” right? But, I embraced it and went on for almost two years with the peace that God had one more baby planned for our family. I just knew it.

Before we decided to get out of God’s way in the path to baby number three, we steadied ourselves with the reminder that it had taken more than half a year the first time and a loss the second time, so surely this time would have its bumps. We had no idea what that really meant. After 6 months, I finally got the coveted two pink lines. I protected that secret for three days so I could reveal to my sweet husband the glorious news in the grand way it deserved. The day after I announced to him, I started to bleed. It was happening again. I was so heartbroken. Had I not heard God correctly? So we tried again and got pregnant the very next month. And I lost that one, too. I was so, so angry. Why? Why? A million times why? We shelved the idea of adding to our family to deal with our tattered selves and to just love on our little family more. Five months passed with no more pregnancies, but also, no more losses. For that we praised. We dragged ourselves from the gutter of bitterness and came out on the other side at peace. God does great things with broken people. Thankfully, He is there even when the healing hearts fail again because this week, we’ve needed his mercies once more. Our fourth baby was born into the arms of our Lord shortly after Valentine’s Day. What a sweet love day gift to our baby, to be born into that peace. I’m not angry this time. The bitterness has dissolved. I am so sad and I long to smell that sweet new life smell again, but I don’t know what God has in store for us. I’m being still. I’m listening. I’m staying home and hugging my earth babies because if we are meant to be a family of 8…with only four of us in this house….I will accept that. But, I love my heaven babies. All four of them. I yearn for the first time I get to see their faces and hold them close. Until then, today, we rest.

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