.....yea

  I'm feeling sorry for myself this gray morning. It's saturday and Paul is off working. We've had some unfortunate obligations that have taken up like the past months worth of weekends.

   I had a dream last night that I was heading to the hospital to deliver another premature baby that was going to die. Of course that is unlikely, but I woke up and started thinking about things like that and it occurred to me that while having another with another congenital heart defect is unlikely, I can basically count on having a miscarriage. My babies die. They just do - they die. One out of six is a crappy statistic.

  Some good friends had their perfect little baby girl this morning. Please don't think that it is their happiness or their wonderful outcome that hurts me... I am thrilled, SO thrilled, that their precious little one made it safely (and naturally!) into the world... but seeing the adorable pictures posted on facebook is not easy. We were excited when we found out we were both expecting, and both due around the same time. Now we both have baby girls, but they can never be pals like we'd hoped. The thought of having a healthy baby has been so far from my world, so surreal to me for these past weeks.

Honestly, I have to wonder if grief can kill someone! It just seems like so much stress on one heart couldn't be healthy...I kinda wish it would just explode and I could go into like a coma or something for a few months. (I'm kidding, for Pete's sake...chill out!) Like when you have the flu and you just wish you could throw up already.   

Read this Psalm. Can I sue God for plagiarism? It is like He took the words right out of my heart.

I cry aloud to God, aloud to God that He may hear me.
In the day of my trouble I seek the Lord;
in the night my hand is stretched
out without wearying;
My soul refuses to be comforted.

I think of God, and I moan;
I meditate, and my spirit faints.

Thou dost hold my eyelids from closing;
I am so troubled that I cannot speak
 Psalm 77:1-4

Hot damn! If that ain't exactly what I wanted to say then I don't know what is. It fits just perfectly! Every word. I call to the Lord and I guess I'm too stubborn to be comforted.
   I think it is rather interesting that is says "I think of God, and I moan. I meditate, and my spirit faints." Anyone who has prayed and meditated deeply knows that feeling....in a Catholic kids serious (can't remember the name) it is described by calling it a hug from an angel. It's that overwhelming saturation in God... he hit the nail on the head when he said "I meditate, and my spirit faints". It's the presence of God, no doubt, but I've been taken off guard since Phoebe because I can feel the presence and still be super sad. It used to be that I felt really happy when I felt His presence, now I can feel it and still miss my baby something terrible.
  And it seems God thinks it's some kind of funny joke to put in there that "Thou dost hold my eyelids from closing" --- least Ya could do, Lord, is let me sleep without having miserable dreams of dead babies! Seriously though, that strikes home with the feeling I've talked about here of constant beatings and no time to take a breath of air in between; no time to rest. And last, and maybe most fitting, "I am so troubled that I cannot speak" - my attempts here on this blog don't cut it, not even close. I feel dumb. Words completely fail me. I might as well quit trying now before I write any more and look back feeling like I wrote a bunch of bogus that can't hold a candle to what is really going on.

One more thing. I desperately need to do something RASH! I already chopped my hair short. I suggested going to the Dominican Republic and not coming back until we have a baby....it's dangerous business saying those things with a laid back hubby like Paul because he always says, "Uh...ok. Sure." For the first time in my entire life I feel like the credit card is in grave danger of being abused. Buying what? I have no idea, but I just know that I want to abuse it and spend like a million dollars doing something rash.
Yikes, huh?