Due Dates

Dates are used throughout our lives (and history) as important markers. 

We celebrate lives on birthdays, marriages on anniversaries, holidays on their respect day. We learn from a young age that certain dates are important (mostly your birthday and Christmas!) 

Then you grow up and learn there are other days that will become important. Maybe it's the day of your first kiss, or first date. Perhaps a high school or college graduation. 

Or maybe it's the day you took a home pregnancy test and it was POSITIVE after months of trying!

And that day of your first appointment with the OB, your husband holds your hand during your very first ultrasound (because "we should be able to find a heartbeat by now") and you find THREE HEARTBEATS. And you learn that your "due date" is September 23 and you memorize that date. I mean, it's usually the first thing people ask when they find out you're pregnant - "So, when are you due?"

I always answered "September 23, but multiples are born earlier than 40 weeks, so we're looking at August babies."

I knew I would never deliver our babies in September. We knew best case scenario was we made it to 36 weeks which was the end of August. But that doesn't mean September 23 was ever less important. 

September 23 will always be the due date of my first pregnancy. A date I'll remember and cherish just like loved ones birthdays, Andy and I's anniversary, holidays and many more. It will always hold a special place in my heart. 

Your feelings? Or mine?

I've been struggling with a lot of different things lately.

One of my main struggles is how to respond to people when they ask if I have kids.

I do.

Inevitably, their next question is "How many?"

I've only been asked this question twice since Leah, Rachel and Gabriel died and I'm almost ashamed to admit that I answered "one - a stepson."  But I don't want to keep answering this way, so I'm trying to work it all out in my head so I can respond better next time.

Because in my head and heart I want to answer FOUR!  I have four beautiful children.  But if I answer four the next question will be "how old are they?"

Well, my stepson is almost 7 and then ... how do I say this so it doesn't make you uncomfortable?  My other three children are dead.  I had triplets that died shortly after they were born.  I have babies in heaven that would be ___ old if they were alive. Which one is the most comfortable answer?

That's right, there is no comfortable answer.

Yet, why do I care so much if they're comfortable?  Whose feelings matter most in my life - mine or theirs?

Of course, mine.  It's my life, they are my children. Why do I care so much about how it makes other people feel?

I wish it was easier, I wish I was stronger.

But I think the only way it will become easier is to start giving them the truth.

No matter how uncomfortable it is.

 
Wish it could be easy, why is life so messy, why is pain a part of us