heart…

 

“Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these..”

-Matthew 19:14

There was a time when I thought talking about infertility was taboo… but through my experiences, I’ve come to realize that it’s nothing to be ashamed about…it just IS, and you learn to deal. I know what it’s like to long for something so bad that it hurts. I know what it’s like to feel all the emotional highs of knowing that we COULD be, then the emotional lows of your heart being broken with disappointment once again when you realize it may not be MEANT to be.I think that’s why I am so grateful for the man who would one day be the father of our children. He was my backbone when I could no longer bear to stand. He always (annoyingly yet thankfully) saw the glass ½ full while I always saw the glass ½ empty. There was no “maybe” in his eyes because he definitely had the faith that could move mountains. Circumstances can cause you to be a cynic, to be angry & to fall. But His grace & mercy abounds… even through the blessing of a supportive & loving husband. In many points of our marriage I could feel the fire at our feet, but I am so grateful that we walked on the firm foundation of God.

We fall but we are not broken…

In 1998 we were overjoyed with the news that we were expecting a baby boy. We were told that his birthday would be around June of ’99. We went through all the baby name books, we planned out the nursery in our modest home in Wilmette that we shared with my dad @ the time. The nursery was decorated with pooh bear. I could feel him growing inside of me everyday and soon enough everyone else could see how much he’s grown from my ever-growing belly. With my distinct waddle I’m sure there was no mistaking that baby was taking over my body as I knew it! He was a good baby. I had very little morning sickness. He’d kick when I spoke to him just to let me know he was listening… and he’d swoosh in my belly as I lulled him to sleep. He’d hiccup often enough to make me smile throughout the day.. which appeared to others to be of no apparent reason.

It was the most amazingly, weird feeling.

One day on my way to work, I remember singing praises to the Lord (literally!), along with a tape that was in the cassette player. (it was 1999 – sue me! ) I remember thinking how happy I was because soon I’d be seeing my baby. I was 25 weeks along. 3 more months & the wait will be over. And I’d be holding my knowingly-beautiful baby in my arms.

It was the most amazingly, wonderful feeling.

I got into a car accident on that same trip to work. I was on the freeway & someone overtook the car in front of me so he honked at him incessantly just to make it known that this was not acceptable. In a classic case of road rage the car that overtook him, slammed on his brakes out of spite, which caused him to slam on his brakes & me in turn.. causing a chain reaction behind me as well. I couldn’t stop fast enough & hit the car in front of me. All 5 of us pulled onto the shoulder & exchanged information. The person in front of me was very apologetic (especially seeing that I was pregnant). He asked if I was ok & proceeded to tell me what a jerk the guy in front of him was (he never came by to talk to me btw). aside from the car’s mangled front end & broken windshield, I was ok. I also may have been a lil frazzled because I didn’t feel any pain. The hubster came & took me to my ob/gyn just as a precaution. Everything was fine, so I went to work.

They say when your adrenaline is pumping it takes a while until your body catches up to what happened. Because of the mishap on the road 2 days prior, I went into labor. 2 days later, my son was born 3 months premature.

Marc-Rhys came into our world…

 

Daddy & Baby Rhys

……..tiny & fragile but beautiful nonetheless. He let out a loud cry so unimaginable for his size. It was then that I knew he was a fighter.  He was rushed to the NICU and we spent our days & nights there. We were there as often as we were allowed.

Holding him close…

Our expectations were set very low as the prognosis was dim for a baby his size but he never ceased to amaze the doctors…  quickly forcing them to eat their words.  I didn’t even get to hold him til a month later because he was so tiny. But I would sing him to sleep everyday.. He would grab on to my pinky & squeeze with all his might. In his waking hours when he was a little bigger & a little less fragile I fed him, held him, spoke to him & loved him even more than I thought I was capable of loving.

And through it all his smile was my strength.

3 days before Rhys was scheduled to come home he developed necrotizing enterocolitis. It was too far advanced for his tiny immune system that he couldn’t fight any longer. I held him in my arms as the Lord called him home. On May 4th 1999, my baby gained his wings.

The Lord needed an angel and He chose ours.

A lot of people wonder why I even choose to talk about the baby who never really was. I’ve been told when he passed away, that I shouldn’t worry.. look forward because he can soon be replaced. Some people may not know what to say but mean well or some may just be plain ignorant… but Rhys will always be in my heart. Even if the world didn’t get a chance to know him, I truly believe that he came to my world to give me hope… to give me strength to keep fighting the good fight & to give thanks in every circumstance. The Lord gave me an angel.

He is my heart.

 

 

 

 

We love you pooh bear!