We are Jedidiah.

After posting my last entry, I went back to reading the story of sweet Ruthie Lou who lived 33 days, touching lives and awakening hearts.  Her mama posted that “LIFE IS A CHOICE.”  Amie, those words are so true.  After reading Amie’s words, I ran upstairs to grab my phone, and my wonderful husband had texted an encouraging message about blessings.  Thank You, God, for answering my prayer and sending people into my life who build me up and help me through the tough moments.  It is a choice, a perspective, to see even the brief whispers of the good.  It is hope.

One year ago today we were trying to get morning tasks done in order to head out to “find out what we are having.”  I had tugs on my heart not to take the boys, but I thought I was being a ninny.  I will never forget the surreal sensation that something wasn’t right while looking at the ultrsound screen, but being brought in a second and then third time for ultrasound review confirmed my fears.  Although the doctors and techs say there is no explanation for why the screen showed purple when Jedidiah’s blood flow was being evaluated, I think that God was trying to prepare me.

My life changed forever with that splash of purple.  I knew.  I knew in that instant, an instant of color in a black and white sea.

The 8th is significant also because it was 8 months ago today that Jedidiah was born and died in my arms.  I have been almost scared for five days wondering how I would face today.  Can I just curl up in bed and pretend today isn’t happening?  How did I get 8 months beyond the death of my son?  I can’t remember his smell.  I can’t bring up the memory of his touch.  It is all fading so fast.  I want to focus on those positives, those moments of sweet perfection, but they are slipping away and no video or picture or outfit or hug can bring them back.  Please, dear God, help me to feel You today, because I can’t feel anything else in this moment.