There, I said it. I feel better. I am MAD.
I am mad that our baby boy isn't here to celebrate his second birthday with us. I am mad that I won't get to see him blow out his candles or smear frosting all over his face. I am mad that he won't be able to run around with the other children at his celebration. I am mad that instead of kissing his face on his birthday, I will be kissing the ground where his body lays.
I am mad that no one thought to cut a lock of his beautiful hair for us on the night that he died. I am mad that no one thought to make an impression of his little feet and hands. I am mad that I have nothing concrete that I can touch and feel aside from clothes that he wore.
I am mad that some have forgotten him, and never mention his name. I am mad that at times, I feel awkward when even I mention his name to those who have forgotten. He was here. He was ours. He was yours.
I am mad that all we have are memories. I am mad that Emily and Matthew lost him. I am mad that James never got to meet him. I am mad that I don't know what to say when people ask me how many children I have or how old they are. I gave birth to four children. I have four babies.
I spent part of the afternoon looking over Luke's home folder that Texas Children's sent home with us. We were told to record a daily weight, daily pulse/ox, and feedings. Surprisingly, I didn't cry. Instead, I searched. I searched for a pattern. I searched for a reason. I searched for an answer. I didn't find much, except the fact that Luke was vomiting quite a bit the week before we lost him. But as I looked at this folder and contemplated its contents, I felt thankful.
I am thankful that Luke didn't suffer the night he went to heaven. I am thankful that God gave Luke his miracle and took him to heaven to play with his angels. I am thankful that we didn't have to watch Luke suffer through and endure more surgeries. I am thankful that Emily and Matthew were in bed on the night Luke died. I am thankful that they were not faced with the chaos and trauma that faced the adults that night. Believe me, it is difficult for me to grasp and comprehend. I cannot imagine how a five and three year old would have processed that evening. I am thankful that, as a result of Luke's life, we welcomed a new, very special soul in James. I am thankful that God continues to send me his own little "messages" in the form of dreams, thoughts, feelings that tell me "it is all going to be alright and according to my plan". I may not have agreed with God's plan at the time, but as He has given me time I have begun to understand what He was doing and how all of His plans come together like a puzzle. I am thankful to have a God who made me human and who still accepts me and all of my human-ness.
Thanks for letting me vent a little...I have so many friends who blog, who are so eloquent and beautiful in their thoughts and feelings. I wish I had one ounce of their ability, but for now I will be thankful for the gift of gab that God has given me. Please remember Luke's birthday celebration if you will be in Houston on March 13th. It will be at Earthman Funeral Home at 11 am. We will have snacks, drinks, cupcakes, and a balloon release. There is an invitation in the post below. Please don't forget about our sweet angel. And please remember those children who are suffering from heart defects (including Asher, Nia, Carlie) and children who are suffering from cancer (Hans, Layla--in her last days, and Katelyn). There are so many other horrible things that affect children and please pray for their peace and healing. God bless!


