Shock

I spent the next 4 days in the hospital. They were days of complete shock. I cannot really remember the order of events or visitors; the doctors had warned me that this might happen. Magnesium or something in my IV can cause memory loss. I don't really know. I was so numb the first few days that I didn't even feel the magnesium, and when I finally felt it, it was awful. It definitely hurts going through your veins. It felt like a fire going up and down my arm.
Those first few days were days of grieving, and days of trying to wrap our heads around what just happened. Our hearts were broken, of course, but I found myself so worried and heartbroken for those around me. I hated to see my parents and in-laws so upset. They wanted to fix it and help their children feel better and heal. Just having them there to hold our hands and give us support meant everything to us.
Seeing our siblings for the first time was emotionally draining, because they were so scared for my health and wanted to see us happy. I remember my sister walking into the room for the first time and running over to embrace me. Her heart wept for me; she knew how much I wanted this little man. She had seen me fall in love with her own children, and she wanted me to have my own experience with kids.
Some of our closest friends and family also visited us in the hospital those first few days. Wade and I just felt so bad for them. We knew it was hard for all of them to come down there. What do you say to a couple that has just lost it all--their first son, hope, dreams, future? My heart went out to all of them. One of my dearest friends, Tricia, had just given birth in February to another beautiful daughter, and she rushed down to be by my side and hold my hand. She was so strong to be there and give me support. She took care of all communication for me, especially to OHS. I still have no idea how many emails or phone calls she made, but she did it all.
Our hearts and my blood pressure could only take so much, so the nurses and our families had to make some executive decisions on visitors. After the initial shock of the first two days, we tried to get the word out that cards/letters would be better than visitors, because every time we saw another friend or loved one we broke down and started the whole emotional process over again.
What haunted me most of all in the hospital those first few days was my precious third grade class. They were so emotionally tied to this little man 'Peanut' and could not wait to meet him. I constantly kept praying for their hearts and their faith in God. It hit me the night before I gave birth to James that someone was going to have to go into my classroom the next day and explain to the class that their teacher's baby boy was no longer alive. That realization hurt so badly. I didn't want their little innocent hearts to be broken, but I was going to have to trust in the Lord and His healing hands. There was nothing, once again, that I could do to change the outcome.
There were not many moments of quiet time for us, especially since the nurses and doctors were still trying to get my blood pressure stabilized and family members were constantly in the room providing love and support, which we needed and truly appreciated. Nighttime was obviously the quiet time around the hospital. It was a scary time for us, because that is when reality kicked in and we were left alone to our thoughts and emotions. What a blessing it was to have such an amazing husband during that time! I think I will spend the next post discussing Wade--because the Lord has truly blessed me with him.

James Walter

Well--this is obviously the hardest entry for me. To be honest I have avoided it as long as I can because it is so painful, but I want to share my memories and my special boy with you. I want to celebrate the biggest day of our life--seeing our beautiful son for the first time and holding him. That special day was exactly 30 weeks ago (210 days). I cannot believe how much has already changed in our lives and how my love for him grows every day.

My labor progressed throughout the night. I remember Dr. B. checking on me at some point in the middle of the night, and he predicted that we still had a few hours left of labor. He thought our son would come some time in the morning or around lunch time.

Around five-thirty or six in the morning, I started to feel some heavy pressure, and the sensation was a bit lower than it had been. I was concerned, but I thought this was all apart of the natural process. When the nurse came in to check on me, I explained the extreme pressure, and she checked me and decided that it was time to call Dr. B.

My mom returned to my side during that time, and I described the pressure to her. It felt like this baby was coming soon, so I told her to call Dad and have him bring the camera. I know this sounds a little bizarre to some people (to want a camera), but for thirty weeks Wade and I had anticipated this day---this amazing moment when we would see God's miracle, our son. We would see this beautiful creation that we made. It was suppose to be a moment of celebration, and I could not wrap my head around the idea that this was not going to be a celebration. We would see our beautiful creation, and then we would lose him all in one moment. It is like someone giving you a gift that you have prayed and wished for your entire life and then immediately taking it away.

My mother called him, and she left to update my mother-in-law on what was happening. During those next few minutes or so, I felt the baby really drop. Wade called for the nurse, and she explained that Dr. B. was about thirty minutes away. I explained to her that this baby was really coming out now, and that I was not joking. She checked me again and saw the baby's head. She quickly called for the on-call doctor.

Immediately my room filled with people: Dr. S., many nurses, my mom, my mother-in-law, and of course my precious Wade. I remember Wade grabbing my hand, and all I wanted to do was stare at him. We discussed briefly what we were going to do once our baby arrived. At first we agreed that we did not want to see him--that it would be too painful to hold him and name him.

(Those were our initial thoughts, but our plans quickly changed.)

Finally the room was ready for the delivery. Once again I was worried that Wade was going to faint, so I insisted that one of the nurses get him a stool or a chair. He sat right by my side, stroking my hand, and encouraging me. He was so brave and just the kind of support I needed. I think I just pushed two or three times--and James Walter was here.

He was beautiful. I remember that moment being so extremely peaceful and calm. Wade and I were filled with warmth and love, and we knew we had to look up at him. My favorite memory of James was watching the nurse carry him to the warming tray. His body was limp, but he looked like an angel to me--what a beautiful angel! Dr. S. finished the labor process, and the nurses cleaned James Walter. A few minutes later, the nurse handed James to us, so that we could really see our son and love him. Everyone left the room; finally Wade and I could enjoy the moment by ourselves.

James Walter was such a blessing! He was born at 6:20 AM on April 1, 2oo8. He weighed 2 pounds 3.25 ounces and was 14 inches long. That is Wade's favorite part, his length. He was so impressed with how long James already was. He was long and lean, just like his daddy. In fact, I think he looked a lot like his daddy. His lips were exactly the same. (When Wade is settling down to sleep at night, I love to stare at him because I see James's beautiful lips again.) His fingers were so long and beautiful. I have short and stubby ones, so I knew his fingers were a gift from his dad also. Wade and I both agreed that he probably had my feet, nice and petite, and my nose. He had a little dark hair on his head, not as much as we figured he would. However, Wade and I both had lighter and thinner hair as babies.

We spent the next half hour loving James. We prayed for him and asked God to hold him so tightly in his hands. We kissed him and told him how much we had wanted him and planned for his future. I sang "You Are My Sunshine" to my precious son. It was an amazing time between all three of us. God gave those special moments to us. There was no anger or anxiety in the room--just love, joy, and peace. Our hearts were overwhelmed with the joy of being parents to this sweet boy and with the sadness of having to let him go.

It was extremely hard to end that time together, but our hearts told us when it was time. Sometimes in life you have to come up for some air--give yourself a little break--so we decided to have the grandparents come back in at that time. We shared our little James with them. They each had a chance to hold and love him. We explained his name. James was the name of my father's grandfather, and Walter was the name of Wade's grandfather. We loved that name; we chose it months before we were even pregnant. Wade loved the fact that his son would have his exact initials--another neat way that father and son could be connected without having a junior.

Of course there were tears, but as I reflect back on those tender moments all I can remember is love. I had no idea how much I could love. Wade and I are so thankful now that we were given the opportunity to meet James--to hold him and touch him was such a gift, even if it killed us. Our journey in life is unpredictable, but I believe that God does have a plan for us. I also believe that our James is safe in His hands, and when I start to miss my little man it is comforting to know exactly where he is. He will always be in our hearts and safe in God's hands.

Higher

In the middle of such a horrific tragedy, there was a little comedy. I was in labor and did have an epidural to ease the pain. (I say all of this because some people don't understand that I actually went through the whole labor process--contractions, pressure, waiting, etc.) One annoying side effect of epidurals is that they can be a little uneven. That was particularly annoying to me, because I had one leg (I think it was my right one.) that was extremely numb and the other one still had a little feeling (which I liked). Of course, you don't want to feel the pain, but knowing that your leg is still alive is a comforting feeling.
After many hours, the dads went home to rest for a little while, and our moms tried to get settled in another room down the hall. The nurses encouraged me to try and get a little rest, so Wade rested on the built-in sofa area. However, my right leg and its numbness were killing me. I kept trying to bump or hit it to feel something. It was driving me nuts.
After a few frustrating minutes, I decided to call for the nurses to see if they could help me get comfortable. They brought more pillows in and tried to elevate my leg, since I had to rest on my side. I thought this repositioning would help, so I told them it felt better. In all of the commotion, Wade resumed his position by my side and was ready to help.
Minutes after the nurses left, I confessed to him that my leg was still really annoying me. So I got him to move it for me. Lifting and bending it felt wonderful. He did that for awhile. Then he stacked the pillows up again in between my legs and sat down next to me. I still wasn't satisfied. I wanted the problem resolved. So he went through the exercises again, but this time I insisted he lift my leg up and down. However, I was starting to get annoyed with my dear husband because he wasn't lifting my leg high enough. He insisted that my leg couldn't go any further. I didn't believe him.
Then my mother entered the room to see how I was doing. So Wade gladly handed this leg duty off to my mom. She went through the same procedures as Wade, and unfortunately the outcome was the same. She couldn't lift my leg high enough either. I was really annoyed with both of them at this point, especially when they started to laugh at me. They said it was because they had lifted my leg up as high as it could possibly go. Plus, I was saying funny things like, "You guys just don't know how to do it. If I could do it myself, I would show you."
After an hour or so of fighting over whether they were lifting my leg high enough or positioning it correctly, I finally got settled. As we reflect back on that night, it definitely was a funny moment shared between the three of us. Weeks later we all enjoyed retelling that story and sharing some good laughs over it. I believe God likes to do that- insert some comedic relief into our lives, especially when we need it the most.

Monday

So on Monday morning, I went in to teach my precious third graders. We had a lot to cover and many new units to begin. I was excited in the morning, because I felt my little man moving inside of me. I noticed that his movements felt more like turning and less like kicking. I was just glad that I felt him. As the day continued, I started noticing that my whole belly would tighten when he turned. I started to think that maybe I was having some contractions. I was unsure, but I knew that I would see Dr. B. in the morning. That gave me some peace of mind. I remember saying to my students that 'Peanut' was doing fine and that I would be at an appointment in the morning; I didn't want them to worry, when they didn't see me on Tuesday.

The swelling in my legs and feet had increased by the end of the day. I was exhausted from the full day of teaching, but I stayed an extra hour after school to prepare the Tues. folders (graded work from that week) and the substitute plans for the next morning. The movement (contractions) continued to strengthen, and by the time I headed home they even hurt a little.

I went by Walgreens on my way home to pick up my prenatal vitamins. As I waited for the prescription to be filled, the pain from the contractions intensified. I could not take this uncomfortable feeling, and my anxiety started. I called Dr. B.'s office from Walgreens, and luckily the nurse picked up the phone (which never happens). I explained that what I thought was movement had turned to pain and that these episodes were happening more frequently. She wanted me to go straight to Baptist Hospital, since Dr. B.'s office was closing. So I left Walgreens and immediately headed towards Wade's office. I called my sister on the drive over there. I remember asking her if everything was going to be okay, and she said she didn't know that I just needed to stay calm. I told her not to call Mom, because I had talked to Mom on my way over to Walgreens and didn't want to scare her even more.

When I arrived at Wade's office, he was not quite ready and said that he would be a few minutes. I told him that he had to come now--something was not right. He immediately left the office, and I let him take over the driving. On our way over we prayed for our little man--that he would be healthy and that God would watch over us at this time.

Once we arrived at Baptist, we parked in the emergency parking area for expectant parents. Since we were already registered with the hospital, it only took a few minutes for me to get back into the triage area. I begged to use the restroom first. So I changed into the lovely hospital gown and used the bathroom. Then a nurse entered the room and started the ultrasound. She was very talkative at first asking me questions about the contractions. I was watching that screen so closely looking for movement from my little man. The nurse stopped talking pretty abruptly, and I remember looking at Wade and squeezing his hand even tighter. I hadn't seen movement or a heartbeat on that monitor.

The room was silent. Wade and I knew without the nurse even confirming it that our little man was no longer alive. She started asking us questions like when did you last feel him move and did you have any bleeding. That is when the state of shock started. I think I started crying. She told me to stay calm. She left to get a higher level ultrasound machine and call the doctors. However, something told us that there was no hope left--that our baby boy had died. Nurses started rushing in and out of the room. The same nurse took my blood pressure reading. She just stared at me afterwards and immediately took it again. Another nurse started an IV on the top of my hand, so Wade had to let go for just a minute. I told him to call my father and let him know. He talked to my dad and told him that the nurse couldn't find a heartbeat in the ultrasound. My dad said that he was on his way.

Finally a doctor, Dr. C., entered the room. He was tall and very calm. He took my hand and explained to me that I was very sick. He said that the nurses could not find a heartbeat during the ultrasound, and that he wanted to perform another one once I was settled in the labor and delivery room. He wanted to get me started on Magnesium through my IV. He said my blood pressure was extremely high, and that magnesium would help. The nurses rushed me down to my room. Wade was right by my side the whole time. I don't know how he had the strength to function, but he immediately went into caregiver mode.

Dr. C. confirmed our loss after viewing another ultrasound. I could see all of my son's beautiful bones, and I prayed that I would see a miracle- just a movement or two- but I didn't. Dr. C. said that I had developed preeclampsia, a disease that can attack different organs in a mother's body. It looked like mine had attacked the placenta and caused it to abrupt prematurely. His first concern was my health. If the preeclampsia was left untreated, then I could develop eclampsia and have a seizure or stroke. Dr. B. entered the room shortly after that with tears in his eyes. He was so upset and just held my hand. He explained to us that once my health was stabilized he would start to induce my labor.

Moments later my parents rushed into the room, and I remember just wanting to be held and tears flowing down all of our cheeks. I had no idea how sick I was. No one had shared my blood pressure reading with me (on purpose). My emotions were filled with the enormous loss of our first son. However, everyone else knew how severe my health was, and they had double the fear and sadness. Wade's parents arrived a short time later, and we went through all of the emotions again.

Later that evening, Dr. B. arrived and said that my blood pressure was stabilizing and that he was going to induce my labor. He thought it would be best if I had an epidural, because it would help lower my bp and lesson the pain. I planned on getting one anyway. Once again Wade held my hand and gave me the courage I needed. I was more worried about him passing out during the epidural, because he hates hospitals and needles. However, we both did just fine.

The best word to describe that evening is numb. Wade and I were in a full state of shock, along with our families. Our emotions were numb and so was my body. We didn't know what to do. We couldn't go backwards in time. We couldn't change the events of the future. We were in God's hands. There was nothing we could do.

Sunday

The pain in my chest faded over that next weekend, but the swelling in my legs and ankles continued. We were up at my parents' mountain home that weekend to get away from it all and enjoy the extra care and attention from my parents. I was feeling so much better physically, but the baby was still not moving as much, which truly worried me.
On Sunday we continued to relax on the mountain. I developed a headache in the back of my head and neck, so I spent the majority of the day on the couch with my legs elevated to also help the swelling. The headache continued through the evening, as we traveled home. Once again all I could take was Tylenol.
My body was extremely exhausted from the last month of illnesses and the lack of sleep. My mind was overwhelmed with worries for this baby and stress from work. I was going to go into work in the morning and complete one of my first full days in over two weeks. I needed to start the space unit and begin preparing my students for the upcoming achievement tests. Plus, I needed to prepare for the Grandparents' Day celebration, and I still wanted to help out with the production of the Willy Wonka musical.
After grading as many papers as I could, Wade and I settled into bed. We were ready to put this dreary month past us. I knew God would provide us with the strength we needed for the upcoming months. I was ready to celebrate my baby boy, and we had many showers coming up to honor him.
I don't remember if I was able to sleep that night. I do remember the 24 hours that followed.

March

I've always loved the spring. Besides the beautiful blooms and warm breezes, I was born then and of course that makes it my favorite time of year. I knew that this particular spring (2008) would be a wonderful one filled with parties for my baby boy and joy anticipating his arrival. I was ending my second trimester, and I felt fine. My 24 week appointment went well. We heard the heartbeat on the Doppler. My wonderful OB, Dr. B., measured my stomach, and everything looked great.

I don't remember exactly when my cold started turning into flu-like symptoms, but it did. It was the beginning of March and pretty bad timing, considering I had to turn in conference reports, prepare for class every day, teach my students during the day, grade papers after school, and average grades for the third quarter report cards. It was an extremely stressful time at school for everyone, but I had the pleasure of getting the flu on top of it all.

I was having all of the symptoms: congestion, fever, and tenderness. Luckily, my fever lasted only a day or two. However, the congestion and coughing continued. I felt so bad that I had to go in for some extra doctor visits early in March, especially since I was having such intense pain in my chest area. That really scared me; sometimes I felt like I was having a heart attack. I didn't know what was going on with my body. After visiting with Dr. B., he recommended that I see my internist, Dr. M. to make sure my heart was okay. The baby's heartbeat was fine, and he was moving all over the place.

After visiting Dr. M., I was diagnosed with costochondritis, which is inflammation of the cartilage that joins the ribs to the breastbone. It can be caused by upper respiratory infections, so it made sense that I would have severe chest pain. My heart was fine, and that was good to hear. However, this pain was so intense. It was hard for those around me to believe me. Only my dear Wade and mom truly understood, because they saw me crying every night. It hurt without even doing anything. Lying down, sitting, stretching, or standing, nothing could ease the pain. Ibuprofen or Aleve would have helped the pain, but since I was pregnant I couldn't take those medications. So I had to stick to Tylenol, which hardly helped. Usually, I would get an hour or two of sleep, and then wake up crying and decide to stand in a warm shower. That would kill some time, until I could take my next Tylenol.

I kept thinking to myself that I all I had to do was make it to spring break, then I could heal, relax,and focus on having a healthy third trimester. Somehow God gave me the strength to make it. The Tylenol helped me enough to get through that last week. Wade and I were traveling to Ponte Vedra Beach in Florida for the break. His family has a wonderful home there on the beach, and we were thrilled to have the opportunity to travel one last time before our son arrived. We wanted to cherish this time together and enjoy long walks on the beach.

That weekend before our trip we were scheduled to take our childbirth education class at the hospital. The Tylenol continued to help my pain, so I knew that I could make it through a two day class. We learned so much that weekend and met a whole new set of families expecting that May and June. It seemed that all of Nashville was pregnant--very exciting!!!

I went in for our 28 week appointment that Monday morning, and the baby's measurements and heartbeat looked good. Dr. B. said we could travel, especially since we were on such a short flight. My chest pain concerned me, because annoyingly it had intensified over the last evening along with the swelling in my legs and feet.

We left for Florida that same evening. My pain continued to strengthen. It was like I could hardly take waiting the six hour period before my next dose of Tylenol. I hated it; I didn't want to depend on pain medication. I was scared for my baby boy. I wanted my body to heal, so that I could give him a healthy home to grow inside of for the next few months. The flight down to Florida was miserable. I cried the whole way. When we got there, my legs were severely swollen, and my pain was almost unbearable.

Wade felt completely helpless. He wanted to take away my pain, but he couldn't. We tried to walk on the beach that next morning, but the pain wouldn't allow it. We had to do something. The Tylenol wouldn't even work anymore. So Wade scheduled our flights home for that afternoon. I needed to be back home and have access to my doctors.

When we returned home, my mom spent a few nights with us. She would sleep in the bed with me, so Wade could get some good rest in the guest room. Tylenol no longer worked. My body was exhausted and lying down made the pain increase. So I spent all of my break in agony. I returned to Dr. B. and Dr. M.'s offices. Dr. B. decided to order an ultrasound to make sure the baby was okay. The baby looked fine, and the placenta and my cervix were also okay. The only concern was that the baby was measuring in the 30th percentile for weight. So he said that we would watch his growth in the next few weeks to make sure there was some consistency in his growth. Dr. M. was out of town, so I had to see another doctor in that practice. He examined my heart again and confirmed that everything was okay. I just had a severe case of costochondritis. There was nothing they could do. Sometimes it took months for this inflammation to heal.

I spent the next week in and out of school trying to heal. I would take warm bath after warm bath. My main concern was my son. There was too much stress and pain in my body, and I didn't want it to affect him. I noticed that his movements occured less frequently, and that really worried me.

Finally, Dr. B. prescribed a form of pain medication that was safe to take in the third trimester for just 72 hours. I took it that last weekend in March. We traveled up to my parents' cabin with them, so that my mom could watch me and give Wade some relief. I only took the medicine for the first 30 hours or so, because it truly helped me. For the first time in weeks, I was able to actually sleep and get more than 3 hours of it at one time. I didn't want to take any more medicine than I had to.

Although my swelling continued and my belly was beginning to become really uncomfortable, the pain in my chest was finally gone, and I was relieved. I wasn't worried about the planning or the nursery. We already had so much of it completed. The furniture was in place, and the floors were refinished. Now we could finally focus on having a delightful spring, and I was so excited about celebrating the arrival of my little man.

First and Second

Wade and I originally planned to wait until 12 weeks to share our wonderful news about our first baby, but as those first few weeks continued my morning sickness strengthened. So we had to tell our family, friends, and work earlier than planned (around 8 weeks). Everyone was very excited and could not wait to meet this little one. Our first few appointments were carefree and typical. We saw an embryo, then a heartbeat, and all of the first kicks and punches. Our due date was June 10, so that meant I could easily get through the year teaching my newest third grade class. My students were thrilled and immediately started calling this little one 'Peanut', because of the way he appeared on the ultrasound pictures. We were relieved to make it through the first trimester. Naturally we assumed the chances of losing this baby early were gone, and we were home-free.

We were surprised to hear in those following weeks that so many other friends and co-workers were also expecting. Wade and I started making a list of the people we knew and that quickly grew close to twenty. We were excited about the little friends that our baby would have one day.

The second trimester started and all was good. I was thrilled when I felt this baby for the first few times. It was incredible. It felt like a pulse to me or maybe a pop. I never had butterflies; I still don't know what that means. This baby would pop or turn frequently, and our bond continued to strengthen. I always felt bad for Wade, because I knew he also wanted to feel our sweet baby.

At the twenty week ultrasound, the baby was developing beautifully, and no concerns were raised about my health. Wade and I decided at that ultrasound to not find out the sex of the baby. The technician covered up the lower half of the baby, and the sex remained a mystery. . . .until later that afternoon when we watched the video of the ultrasound at home. We quickly found out that the video did show all of the lower half of the baby, and it pretty much looked like a boy to us. It was obvious! After another confirmation from an ultrasound tech, we celebrated the news of a healthy baby boy. I had always wanted that surprise moment of finding out the sex at birth. However, I was a little relieved to find out during my pregnancy, because it gave me a chance to start bonding with my son in a whole new way. . . plus all of the conveniences of picking out boy items ahead of time.

Soon after that appointment, Wade experienced his first kick from our son. I will always remember that night. He had joked about hearing the baby's heartbeat through my belly and feeling him kick, but I knew that he hadn't really felt him yet. However, one weekday night, we were all settling into bed, and Wade put his hand on my lower belly. The baby kicked, and we both felt him at the same time. It was truly special. I felt him from the inside, and Wade could finally feel him on the outside. It was a wonderful night and many sweet dreams followed.

Towards the end of my second trimester, I started to get some form of a cold which was annoying but nothing too surprising considering all that was going around the community and school. I tried to get more sleep and take it easy during those next few weeks.

We're Pregnant!!!

Wade and I were thrilled to learn last autumn almost a year ago that we were pregnant with our first child. Personally, this news gave me extreme satisfaction considering that I have always known my purpose in life is to be a mother. I've wanted to be one ever since I was a little girl. I've been surrounded by children my whole life, through babysitting my dear neighbors, participating in summer camps, and teaching third and fourth grades at OHS. Although these opportunities blessed me in ways I could not even imagine, they did not fulfill my desire to have my own children.

Wade and I knew that we wanted to enjoy our marriage with just the two of us (and our sweet dog, Mabel) for the first few years. We wanted to experience life together and enjoy those years as a family of two. Everyone always told us that life would never be the same once you have kids, and you will never get those years back. However, ever since my precious nephews entered the world, my desire to have children has deepened. I love the way my sister has grown into a wonderful mother, and I want that too. I want adorable little ones calling me mommy. More than that I want to see Wade as a father, because I know he will be a perfect dad.

Back to my original point, we were very excited that October morning, and we knew that our lives from that day on would never be the same. That didn't bother us at all, because we were ready. We just had no idea at that point what the outcome would be--only positive thoughts.

Beginning

In order to begin this new adventure in our lives (blogging) we will have to travel backwards a few years. Wade and I were blessed to meet each other about eight years ago through mutual friends. Our relationship was there from the beginning. Nothing was complicated or hard about the relationship - no games, no pressure, no worries - just love. God was definitely present in our lives, and we felt extremely comfortable around each other. We married three years later and settled into our first beautiful home. In those first few years of marriage, we experienced many adventures together: attending grad school, accepting new jobs, moving into another wonderful home, and completing licensure in landscape architecture. Everything was moving along perfectly as planned, until last March. That is when our hearts were broken for the very first time, when we realized how precious life is, and when our faith was shaken.

I am not a writer. I just feel that it is time for me to share the story of our precious little boy, our little man who lived inside of me for 30 weeks. He gave us so many gifts and will continue to do so the rest of our lives.