Today is my oldest son’s sixth birthday.  I reflect back on this as his life and that of all children truly are God’s miracles.  My post today is a reminder of how far we’ve come and a letter to all of those who’ve experienced loss or struggles trying for children that you are not alone.  It’s definitely a heavy post, so be warned.  Two years prior to his birth we experienced our first loss.  It was one of the only seasons of my life where I could not find joy.  And it made me realize that when people say “everything happens for a reason,” they were just wrong.  There is no good reason to explain pregnancy loss or struggles.  I was lucky and blessed during this part of my life to coach all star cheer.  Whether they knew it or not, the coaches and families I saw every week kept my mind busy and my heart full.  I will never forget right after we found out about our second loss.  I met the coaches in the parking lot as we were ready to carpool to the weekends competition. They hugged me and my sadness was their sadness and for that I’m forever grateful.  I was not alone.

I found solace not only in the support of my husband, who was a rock through this storm, but the online communities of other women who were experiencing the same thing.  Frankly I think if my husband knew how much I talked with the other women he might have thought I was nuts.  But whatever gets you through the day.  And this came full circle when my husband was on a work trip to Israel and prayed for a child.  It was so fitting to is that a name he heard on this trip meant “happy and blessed” and that was the name we chose for our first son.

It is such a small place that the loss comes from.  You feel small.  And broken.  There world goes around and yet for you time has chosen to stand still.  It’s not just the months that seem to cycle by but the hours slowing down to the seconds.  I made the brutal mistake of going to a baby shower a week after a loss.  I went because it was the “right thing to do.”  I leaned the best way to approach this situation was: go for the food, leave before the gifts.  The gifts were a reminder of a life that I was not going to have and it was heartbreaking.

So for anyone who is in this season of their life or knows someone going through this, just listen.  They don’t need much else.  That persons patience will be long gone but a friends caring and compassion will help the days, weeks, and months move along.  While this all now seems like a lifetime ago, it truly was.  The lifetime of a sweet six year old boy whose life forever changed ours.  One who loves lizards, bugs, baseball, his family, the color yellow, and talk-sings whenever he is in a really good mood.  Happy birthday my lovebug!