This is the Miracle of Love

My grief is not pretty. My eyes hurt from all the tears. My ribs ache from the sobbing. It is nothing to how I feel inside. On Oprah the other day, there was a mom who lost all her limbs to a flesh eating bacteria she came down with at the birth of her second daughter. I was jealous of her. She still went home to all her children. Last night was the first night off sleeping pills and I dreamt for the first time. I went through a war zone and was bloodied, but I was promised I could see Harrison at the end. I made it through, and there was a boy at the end, but it wasn't Harrison. Cruel. But I still believe God is good. He will shelter me.

Gavyn cried for the first time tonite. Not the polite tears, but the real tears. He wanted to teach Harrison so much. We all had big plans. Now our plan is to get by moment to moment.

I don't answer the phone too much when I am alone with the kids. I love you guys, but so much of the time your first question is "How are you?" I am crappy. That's the truth, but I can't say this and then go on in conversation. Brian and I were talking about this question. He said the thoughts in his head are "which level of crappiness am I feeling?" My sister asked what I was doing when she called. God bless her. This is a much easier question to answer.

Two weeks ago tonite, Brian was watching the Huskers play and I put Emi to bed. She was having a hard time falling asleep, so I picked her up and rocked her. Harrison was kicking like crazy that night and Emi turned to me and said in her very matter-of-fact two year old voice, "Harrison is kicking me." I remember it so clearly. Brian came in and we chuckled about this. He finished rocking her and I left to enjoy my little active boy. He had the hiccups later that night as we were going to bed. That was last time he voluntarily moved. What I would give for another moment.

Our amazing pastor talked at Harrison's funeral about a time when he was a little boy. He would lay down on the floor at his babysitters and watch her do needlepoint. As he would watch from the underside it looked like such a mess of strings, but from the top looking down, it was a beautiful rose. I know that this rose exists from heaven above, but I wish I could just have a little peek. Right now, I wish a lot of things.

"we know that suffering produces perseverence; perseverence, character; character, hope."

Romans 5:3-4

I have hope.

We did have a good spontaneous laugh today. I purchased undies at Target yesterday and was insulted that the largest size in Hanes was a 10...those of you who buy Hanes undies know where I am going with this...so, I go to do laundry today and I am unwrapping them while reading the back of the package. A size 10 Hanes is NOT a size 10 pant...it's an 18-20 pant. Gavyn and Emi wore them around the house. One kid in each leg hole. Definetly money well spent, laughter from Brian and I is an amazing step.

I will leave you on this note of Hope.

Jenn