sinking in

Reality is sinking in. That does not mean that hope is floating away.

Since our appointment at CHOP I think that I’ve finally allowed myself to begin to really grieve for Gabe. In some way I think that I was so convinced that we would go to Philly and everything would change – that we would find out our docs were wrong. They weren’t (which is good and bad). I want you to know that I have cried a lot since we got home and I’m not looking at that as a bad thing. I am not always strong and confident and okay. I need to grieve the loss of a “normal” pregnancy. I need to grieve for my son. I need to let the emotions out and let reality in so that I’m not allowing my mind to fool me into thinking that nothing is wrong and everything will be fine. Fortunately, my heart has stepped in and allowed God to speak and say that this isn’t over and that He is holding us through it.

I read a great book this weekend called “Waiting with Gabriel” by Amy Kuebelbeck. She wrote about carrying her son to term with a fatal diagnosis and the short, precious moments of his life. It brought up my memories of Felix’s death and delivery and our time with him – all of the sorrow and joy in meeting and saying goodbye to our little boy. Then I became overwhelmed with sadness in this one moment and all I could think was “God, please don’t make us do this again! Please don’t ask us to bury any more of our children!” I really don’t want to choose another outfit or casket or bouquet of flowers for a baby’s funeral. I don’t want to only have a few hours with my son and then have to say goodbye; sending him off with strangers to some refrigerator to wait until it’s time to put his body in the ground. Can you hear my heart crying out? I want to keep Gabriel. I want to raise him and watch him grow. I don’t want my children to lose another brother.

So, while we all keep asking God for healing for Gabe, Brian and I are preparing ourselves for the worst. We are going to be working on a birth plan and we’ll also need to meet with the funeral home to get those details worked out before we’re in a complete mental and emotional fog. And somehow – without dashing the kids’ faith and hope – prepare our little ones to go through this with us, again.

Thank you for your love and support and prayers. It means a lot to us.


  1. I found you though a comment you left on my friend Stacy’s blog. I am keeping you in my thoughts and prayers. I am in awe of your capacity to love. Your little baby is so blessed to have you as his mother. Warmest wishes.

  2. I just found you through Seraphim’s blog. My heart aches for you. You are so strong. I will keep you in my thoughts and prayers,

  3. I remember being pregnant with Sophia after delivering her twin brother 2w before and begging God to not take another child from me. It wasnt until I was pregnant again and praying that God would let us keep Alexander that the comment came into my head that God isnt “taking” anything from me… That God gave me the joy of carrying Nicholas, Sophia, and Alexander, of being their mom, and that, if it was their journey to go home to Him sooner than we’d like, that was okay… That none of us know when it is our time to return to God’s kingdom and that we should embrace their journey. Dont get me wrong. It is the hardest thing I do every day. It breaks my heart to know that my three babies spent so little time on this earth and that I’ll never get to watch them grow up or hold them again here. I try to remember that I will see them again one day when the pain gets really bad.

    It doesnt seem fair to ask us to bear the pain of losing one child, let alone more than one. I know that God has a plan, but sometimes I really, really wish that I knew what it was.

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