Here I am writing again...I actually have been journaling privately. Writing is incredibly healing and here in the internet world you all add to that healing.
Someone's blog has a quote that I love, the following is paraphrased: life is not measured by days or time its measured by moments. Not exactly the words but I can't remember the exact quote... Anyway, I'm sure if you think back on your life you will see this is so true.
I want to start by a quick re-visit of all my pregnant moments...quickly I promise.
Beginning of April, I was on my fourth fertility cycle (lack of better words), day fourteen. I woke up extremely early, about 5 am. My boobs hurt and I felt cramps coming on...I was sure I was getting my period. This was a difficult battle, the waiting game of trying with a medical team behind you. I would have 14-16 days between each try of waiting to pee on the stick or for my time of the month to arrive, just to start the waiting period all over again. Timing was everything and it was measured by ultra sounds, pills, shots, and i.e. (insemination). Patience grew and I still believe my faith grew in abundance through this time. Even though at the time I thought I was in the lowest valley I would have to go through.
Alright, back to the prego stick. Five in the morning on a beautiful April day, I learned I would be expecting our much prayed for boy, Maxson. I was only 14 days pregnant and I knew! When I first saw the "pregnant" word (digital stick the only way to go), my knees hit the floor. I thanked God and love to revisit the joy that surged my body. Waking Dust up to share such great news will never leave my memory. Calling family at the break of dawn was for sure one of the best tells EVER! I miss that crazy amount of joy that I only believe a child of your own can bring.
Later that day Dust and I went and purchased Max's first hat and mitten set from Target. The hat said "our lil peanut", it was yellow. Cause it was our first purchase for our lil boy, I did place the hat in Max's coffin with him. Really not where I thought I would be putting it at the time.
The rest of the time between 14 days and 19 and 1/2 weeks was spent enjoying all of the pregnancy ups and tiny set backs. Many days spent dreaming of what our baby was going to be like. Time spent thinking on how I was going to try my hardest to be a great mom, and how my body was changing faster than I expected. And lots of praying for my baby. I prayed really hard that Heaven would be our son's eternal destination (this has been answered, too soon!!). Of course I prayed he would be healthy, but really it was not on my mind even a little bit that he wouldn't be. I dreamed, prayed, and waited with joy until week twenty...
For this time in my life you can go to the first few posts on this blog to give you the all those moments. Just a couple of memories that come alive when I think on that time are. Dust telling me the test was positive for trisomy 18, God telling me he would be there. The 11 hour car ride home filled with tears, hopelessness, anger, fear, doubt, song, despair, confusion, and tons of pain. The following days and months I found hope, joy, and peace. I can't explain... I have never before held hope and joy with pain and despair at the same time. And looking back and even now, I do.
See Maxson has more memories than I was giving credit to. I knew I had Max from day 14 and I gave him back holding him at 37 weeks, one day, two hours, and 44 minutes.
more memories of Max's time with us to come!