It's no secret that we have had a lot going on with Matthew. Colic, acid reflux, gas, trouble pooping, general neediness...it's all been incredibly overwhelming. And my main thought in the most difficult moments has been "oh my gosh, what would I do if there were two babies here right now??"
That being said, given a choice? Evan would be in my other arm tonight and this blog post wouldn't even be happening. I have looked down to catch Matthew grinning his giant open-mouthed grin at me a lot the last few days, and tonight I thought "how cute would they both be, lying here cooing and smiling at me?" I think some people think it's weird to mourn a baby I never felt kick, never heard the heartbeat for, never saw on the monitor. This wasn't some baby that was too weak to make it, though. This was a baby that had thrived against all odds, and the fact that Evan HAD thrived so well in the Fallopian tube is probably the only reason I am holding my sweet Matthew in my arms tonight. There was a big chance I could have died as well if Evan's heartbeat hadn't alerted the doctor that he (or she) was there. I know there was no way to save Evan's life. But we still had a surgery to have the tube...and sweet Evan...removed. It has stuck with me. My sister got me a beautiful necklace from James Avery to wear, with Evan's name and the date of the surgery engraved on the back of the "You'll always be in my heart" charm. I wear it all the time. It reminds me of how close I came to losing both of my babies. Evan may not have lived for long, but that short life was such a powerful one. And I know that Evan's sweet soul is with our Heavenly Father until I one day join him (or her).
Until then I think about Evan daily. Sometimes, ashamedly, in a moment of relief that I only am having to comfort one crying baby. But that's not my true feeling on it, because I would give almost anything to have two pudgy-cheeked babies smiling at me everyday.
I have gobs and gobs of pictures of Matthew to plaster all over Facebook. I have nothing to share of baby Evan except this blog post. I have seen some women refer to babies lost during pregnancy as their "angel baby". And I like that term, it is a comfort to think of the baby that did so much for me and Matthew in his/her short time with us as a little angel in the kingdom of heaven. I know some people think it's silly or weird to name the baby we lost and all that, but I don't mind. Hopefully those people never lose a baby like that and suddenly get why I felt like I had lost something I only knew I had for less than 24 hours. Ben Rector has a song called "When A Heart Breaks", and it describes that day last October when we were ushered into Dr. Douglas's office for the news. So I will leave you with those lyrics, they are profound. I highly recommend you look up the song if you have a chance.
I woke up this morning
And I heard the news
I know the pain of a heartbreak
I don't have answers
And neither do you
I know the pain of a heartbreak
This isn't easy
This isn't clear
And you don't need Jesus
Til you're here
Then confusion and the doubts you had
Up and walk away
They walk away
When a heart breaks
I heard the doctor
But what did he say
I knew I was fine about this time yesterday
I don't need answers
I just need some peace
I just need someone who could help me get some sleep
Who could help me get some sleep
This isn't easy
This isn't clear
And you don't need Jesus
Til you're here
Then confusion and the doubts you had
Up and walk away
They walk away
When a heart breaks
When a heart breaks
When a heart breaks
Oh, when a heart breaks
This isn't easy
This isn't clear
And you don't need Jesus
Til you're here
Then confusion and the doubts you had
Up and walk away
They walk away
When a heart breaks
