(Joyfulmysteries Note…Every Friday will be a guest writer writing their real. I will not always reveal who wrote it for the protection of their family and their circumstances, so today’s writer will remain anonymous…but I will have you know that this is an Amazing Person.  And I feel incredibly honored that they chose to share Their Real Today. Per the writer’s request, please do not comment any advice on this post, I will delete it.  The only thing I will keep is words of love, and I ask you to pray for my Friend and be there for One another in Every Real Phase of our Lives.)

Happy 2015…one can hope.

Not even three years ago, I got married to the love of my life.  10 months and 13 days later, our precious boy was born.  Life was perfect.  The whole pregnancy was ridiculously easy…down to the epidural lady telling me “you have an athlete’s back” while poking a giant needle in my spine.  Our wee babe was born with all his fingers and toes and aced his Apgar test.  T’was bliss times a million.

Then came 2013.  Our sweet boy was perfect but suffered tremendously with chronic constipation.  I know that a lot of parents survive a lot scarier in terms of their kids but every day that our wee lad wouldn’t “go” was another day of horror and I was unable to do anything to relieve his pain.  And don’t say (insert recommendation) here.  WE TRIED EVERYTHING.  Finally, after his 4th month, a kind doctor prescribed Miralax.  Nearly overnight, our super fussy infant became a joy.  Praise God for giving someone(s) the smarts to develop such a miracle poop-inducing powder.

It was about that time when we discovered that we were expecting a sibling for our dear boy.  I was elated!  Irish twins!  It meant our kids would be less than a year apart and so never not know life without each other in it.  It meant that they would always have someone by their side and who had their back.  It meant that I would get another shot at the first 4 months of infancy and have the mom skills to fight harder for what I knew my baby needed.  It meant I would get to try again to breastfeed but not be as devastated if I couldn’t.  It meant a whole new set of challenges that I couldn’t even wrap my brain around.  Mostly, it meant another sweet little face to kiss, another little body to cradle, another blessed life to be so incredibly thankful for.  A few days before Mother’s Day…I started spotting and we found out days later that our #2 precious babe was already in heaven.  About a week later, Blaise Nicholas (Nicholas because he was due on St. Nick’s Day) was buried at the Catholic cemetery and we picked out a beautiful gravestone for him.  It was the only thing I ever got to pick out for him so I wanted it to be perfect.  I still can’t believe how much I miss him.  This is a grief I can’t describe and it changes me every day.

Months went by and I cried a lot.  I sincerely tried to keep thinking of Blaise so happily praying for us surrounded by the angels & saints.  I tried to console myself with the thought of being able to lend a sympathetic ear to anyone who had ever lost a baby.  I became keenly aware of how all life is a miracle, so fragile and so taken for granted.  I loved our sweet little man even more fiercely.  And I counted that as the greatest gift of Blaise…that I would not ever take his life for granted.  But every time I lost my patience, or failed to “know” what he needed, or wasn’t perfect in any way…I would chalk them up as reasons why God didn’t let us keep Blaise.  And it ate at my soul.  It still does.

But I prayed that God would give us another chance.  And in November, we found out that #3 was due in July.  YAYYYY!!!  So excited but nervous.  We went and had an early ultrasound, all of us as a family.  What a relief when we saw a strong heart beating!  It was December 18th.  We got to celebrate our big boy’s 1st birthday and Christmas in complete bliss and with a tremendous hope for this new life.  Just after the new year (the year that shant be mentioned), I started spotting.  And I knew.   I begged God to let me keep her as I watched her life drip and then pour from my body.   I begged God to let the doctors be right when at 3 separate visits to the hospital, they said nothing was wrong.  I begged God to let my husband be right when he said I shouldn’t worry because the doctors were right.  On the 4th visit to the hospital, we found out that baby #3 joined her brother Blaise in heaven, her life had ended weeks earlier sometime just after we saw her in the ultrasound in December.  We named her Clare Elizabeth and buried her next to her brother.  Because of how difficult it was to have Blaise at home, we elected to go thru what we needed to at the hospital.  That was an epic nightmare (I’ll spare you but in case you ever need to know…most hospitals have to comply with your requests on how to deal with your baby’s remains).  I was still trying to cope from losing Blaise, but losing Clare…especially after seeing her beautiful heart beating…  I am angry that God would give me such hope and then steal it away.  My already broken heart shattered into a million pieces.

The rest of “the year” was a blur.  Our too little family moved half-way across the country away from all family and friends.  We had two more miscarriages, both very early – just enough to get my hopes/fears up.  I can’t even approach dealing with those losses yet.  I’ve had a multitude of tests and I was diagnosed with a few things and eventually had surgery.  My handsome husband’s back has gotten so bad that he can no longer do the career he is trained for…or any of the physical activities he so much enjoys.  Our bodies have taken a beating but my spirit is wreckage.  I am weak and broken, so much so that I can’t bear to hope that God has better things for us this year.  Nearly every month of the year now has either a miscarriage date or a due date of a baby that I long to hold.  Most days feel as though the reasons for grieving have greatly outnumbered the causes for joy.  I’m stuck and unable to hold it together anymore.  I cry every day and often when I’m not expecting it.  One neighbor in particular seems to catch the waterfalls nearly every time I see her.  I loathe every bathroom we’ve ever had in our three homes because they are all places of death for me.  My period coming is not only a reminder that I’m not pregnant but a small reenactment of the loss of my 4 kids.  It’s hard to make friends when all your energy is spent on not falling apart.  I have become so focused on faking it until I make it that I can’t even engage in a conversation most of the time.  I’m afraid I’m going crazy.

I used to be that person that was sincerely joyful all the time, just in knowing God’s love for me.  I grieve not only losing my four sweet babes, but having lost myself.

I’m angry at God and find it almost impossible to pray.  I’m so tired of crying.  I’ve lamented to Him that the cross was nothing compared to knowing that my babies have died within me and feeling that my womb is a tomb.  My consolation is that even Jesus cried out in His abandonment.

I hate that this is my story.  HATE.

And yet…I have a little man who makes me laugh and smile, who giggles when I make faces and sings ridiculous songs with me.  A little man who is growing up so fast (too fast) but still smooshes his face into mine as he’s going to sleep, just for a few more kisses to add to the 1000’s I’ve already given him.  He is perfect and I have a bright, shining, beautiful, full of life reminder that God still loves me.  All the time.  Open the eyes of my heart Lord.

So with what little energy I have left, I’m seeking help.  I’m turning to people who have skills beyond my grasp to lift me out of this darkness that has only gotten increasingly murky.  I’m praying for hope.  I’m praying that I can trust God with my heart and my desires again.  I’m praying for my joy to be restored.  For my boy’s sake, for husband’s sake…and for me.

2015 – my Easter year.  Please Jesus.

Create in me a clean heart O God,

And renew a right spirit within me.

Cast me not away from Thy presence,

Take not Thy Holy Spirit from me.

Restore unto me the joy of my salvation,

And renew a right spirit within me.