It's been a long week, it's going to be a long post!

I am opening with this: the most wondrous twenty three month old little boy in the world and his fabulous dimple. Why because he is cute and uplifting and this blog is about to get a little deep.

 

This week has been long and hard. I have avoided blogging because my plate is full and I have a few things heavy on my heart and mind.

 

I spent Sunday night in Portland with my wonderful sisters, Jessi and Becky. It was a much needed getaway for all of us. I came down with a little something on the way home Monday but all was fine and dandy because I was home with my beautiful children. But Tuesday morning I woke (with a cold) to L whimpering, which is scary if you know L and how boisterous he can be. To say he was hot would be an understatement but I couldn't tell you how hot because for the life of me I couldn't find the dang thermometer. L is a high risk baby. He spent all of last March through June on steroids and one breathing treatment or another to keep his breathing manageable. He was finally diagnosed with asthma but we haven't been able to pinpoint his triggers. So he stays high risk. A high fever and a nasty cough that came out of nowhere warrant a trip to the doctor. He was treated with antibiotics and for the swine flu. I get so scared when L is sick.

 

B woke up on Wednesday hot, 102.8 hot (I sent E to the store to replace the thermometer that I purchased the day before and then lost in my parents couch). I spent the rest of that rainy morning forcing ice water into him and soaking his forehead with cool water. He's a champ though, by Thursday he was fever free and begging me to let him go back to school. Sweet little D spent the entire week healthy, going from brother to brother with a pat and saying "oh baby" in her sweet little voice.

 

But all week I had this on my mind. Wednesday was Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day.

 

I am not the parent of an angel baby; I have never had to live through the loss of my child. I have looked down that road though. I have sat next to my tiny baby while a ventilator breathed for him. I have contemplated the loss of a twin who refuses to grow. But my children have been spared. I looked down that road; I cannot fathom having to walk it.

 

I am not the mother of a child lost in pregnancy or infancy but I am marked by it. I am the sibling of loss. My parents lost their son when I was a baby and their infant daughter when I was not quite four. Beautiful Ryan was taken after a short life complicated with Hydrocephalus and illness, sweet Sarah to a terrible accident when she was just six months old. God has a plan that we cannot begin to understand, that we are not meant to understand until we are on His side of eternity. How could we begin to understand why God can take one child, the most beautiful little boy, after a five year battle with illness and disability and then see fit to take a healthy baby girl in the blink of an eye? I've wondered my entire life.

 

Monday was Sarah's twenty fifth birthday; she has been on my mind all month. How much does a small child remember? Enough. I remember the way she smelled like Baby Magic lotion, the print on the fabric inside her black patent leather shoes, the way her Rainbow Bright pajamas felt against my skin. I remember the way the macaroni and cheese felt in my mouth the day she died. I have been blessed with a memory that starts when I was about a year old, honestly! I remember so much of my life, especially as a small child and I can't help but believe that it is to remember her. So that her short life can live on in me.

 

I am so thankful for Sarah and her beautiful little life. I am thankful for the things that God has taught me and given me through her life and death. My mother. I have more respect for my mother than any other person on the planet. How she could not only survive the loss of her children but become the strong and faithful woman that she has blows my mind. My father. My kind and gentle father who has spent his entire life as a father sacrificing and doing everything that he can to make life that much sweeter for us girls. My parents have never failed to show us that while God has plans that we may never understand His plans are always for our good and made with His love. Sarah's life has taught me more about being a mother to my own children than I could begin to share.

 

And finally, isn't it like God in His infinite wisdom, to take a tragedy that no one can begin to understand and bring new life out of the darkness. Four years after Sarah went to her Home, we were given a new baby girl. A sister that would never have been, a sister that I love with every fiber of my being. God works in ways that very often make us feel blind and raw.... and oh so thankful.

 

Becky, my baby sister and I this past weekend, stuck in an elevator!