perfect - 11/10/13 - 3w3d

I started to write a post that included some of my thoughts on my grief and sorrow over our loss of Joshua, but realized I had so much to say and it was so scattered that it needed some fine tuning. Instead, this is merely an update on how our boys came into this world and how they are now. 

On a day three weeks ago, I was not only blessed to meet little Josh, but I also got to meet his two womb-mates. They are perfect and while they have had to spend their days in the NICU, I am very excited for the day they will get to come home. 

At 11:04 am, on October 17, 2013, David Adam entered this world.

I heard him scream right away and then he was taken into a small room off of the O.R. called the resuscitation room. Rob assured me that he was ok just in need of some respiratory support. After surgery, the wonderful staff wheeled my bed into the NICU where I got to see my babies for the first time and at that time David was just getting oxygen thorough a nasal cannula.

Later that day he showed signs that he needed even more help breathing so he was intubated.

The nurse that night had her work cut out for her because she had the very unpleasant job of keeping me in bed to recover and away from the NICU and my babies. Rob spent the night trying to assure me that he would make sure I could see my babies first thing in the morning. So the next day when I finally got to go, I was very disappointed to hear that I could not hold David, only touch his head because he was too sensitive to touch. All we could do was standby and hope for the day we would be able to hold him. While I was being discharged, Rob sent me this picture:

He had been extubated! He was now on a cpap which looks brutal but in reality is just a cone that covers the nose.

That day was my last day staying in the hospital and we would start traveling to and from the hospital to see our precious babies. It is now three weeks later and David has made vast improvements. He went from the cpap to just a nasal cannula and from a central feeding line that went through his umbilical cord and allowed for a small blood transfusion, to an IV, down to nothing. He also went from a closed isolette where we could only stick our hands through to touch him to a regular open air crib where we get to hold him any time that we want.

This is my beautiful David today:

 At 11:06 am, on October 17, 2013, Samuel Abraham came into this world.

He did not cry right away but after some vigorous rubbing he perked up and let out one of the most wonderful sounds. They were able to keep Samuel in the O.R. as he did not need much lung support so Rob got to take pictures with him.

I was able to meet him before he was moved to the NICU.

After being taken into the NICU where I got to look at David, the staff moved me over by Samuel's isolette and I held him for the first time.

When we left the hospital, Samuel was receiving oxygen through a nasal cannula.   

By the next week he was taken off the oxygen, had his IV removed, and moved from the temperature controlled isolette to an open air crib. He is currently staying in the NICU only until he can take all of his feedings by mouth and not through the feeding tube. Currently this is what our little Sam looks like:

The boys are all perfect. They were on the day they were born...

And they are now...

They don't always get to be in the same crib, but we snuck them in to get a shot of three of our boys.

We'll try and post soon about our memorial service and how we've been dealing with our loss, each in our own posts but in the mean time, thanks again for all of your continued prayers and thoughts. They are definitely helping us to keep going.

losing hope and guilt

It has been over two weeks since the death of my son Joshua and there are still moments when I think about my beautiful little boy and can't control my overwhelming urge to cry.  I think about the fact that he is at peace with his heavenly father and I tell myself I should be happy for him, when in reality I just can't leave room 242 where I got to hold him so close and feel his warm little body on mine. However, it is times like this when I realize just how selfish I am because I wanted to watch this little one grow up but, the hard truth is that he was never mine, he was and will always be God's. I remember toward the end talking with Rob and him saying to me that God gave him comfort by reminding him Joshua will not have to spend one day living in this pain and sin filled world. He is perfect now, no longer does he live in the broken body that we knew but he is in a perfect one in the presence of God. Shouldn't that bring me comfort as well? I knew that there was such a high probability of his death but why is it then that I can't leave that room and focus everything on Joshua's three brothers?

I feel guilty all the time. Guilty for focusing on Joshua's death and not rejoicing in the miracle that his short little life was. Guilty that I'm taking away from the joy that Samuel and David deserve. Guilty that I am not spending enough time with Nick. Guilty that I am not able to be the mother/wife I used to be, but find myself relying on Rob all the time. My ultimate guilt however is found in the fact that I can't find hope again. I'm all hoped out. It is funny to me how I can say that I am so blessed and yet feel so hopeless. I hoped and prayed for Matty and Zane, I hoped when I was having my miscarriage, I have been hoping for Joshua, and none of those went the way I wanted. Am I supposed to be okay with that? The answer is of course "yes." I'm confident that I will find hope again not because God's answer to my prayers will turn out the way I want them to in the future, but because an almighty loving God heard my prayers and worked them for my good, I'm just having a hard time seeing them as good right now. Joshua's life in and out of the womb as well as his death is a miracle and I am grateful to God that he let me be a part of it.