Gabriel's daddy

Tom is an incredible husband...and I love him for it, but Tom is also an incredible father and it causes me to see him in a much more powerful way especially on days like today...Father's Day.  Tom has been a strong support to me over the last two difficult years and thankfully because of who he is our marriage hasn't suffered from all of the heartache, but today is not about the amazing husband he is to me rather the amazing father he is and has been for all of our children.

Tom never missed a single ultrasound visit with any of our babies.  He was there for the heartache of our first ultrasound of our first baby and he was there when we saw Gabriel's heartbeat for the first time.  He was there for all three excrutiating ultrasounds with our baby after Gabriel...and he was there when we celebrated Gabriel was a healthy baby and saw all his features for the first time at 12 weeks.  He was there when we saw our last baby didnt have a heartbeat and he was there when we learned Gabriel was a boy and we could call him by name.  He prayed for each of them while they were here...and talked to them in my womb. He loved to feel Gabriel kick and loved to read to him.  He was also their protector.  In their short life...he was always so careful to not let me lift anything or to expose me to any chemicals etc. while I was pregnant to protect our little ones.

He's also been a great father to them since we lost them.  He was present for every specialist appointment after Gabriel's death as we tried to learn more about him and why he died.  Tom has also honored our children in numerous ways including building the stone wall by our house that now houses flowers in honor of our children.  I saw his pain as he read Gabriel's book at Levine's butterfly release and as he spoke about the worst day of his life while serving on the nurse's parent panel at CMC...all in an effort to carry on Gabriel's legacy by helping other families.

I have a lot of memories of the day we learned that Gabriel died...the most haunting for me was seeing his heartbroken father when we received the devastating news.  I had envisioned so many father/son moments...Tom dressing him in his hockey jersey, reading to him as he fell asleep in his arms, teaching him to play soccer etc.  Sadly, I witnessed the most intimate of moments...a father holding his precious lifeless son in his arms.  If anyone deserves to be called a father...to be called daddy, it's my husband.

?

I knew after Gabriel died that I could never get him back here on earth so I just asked God for answers.  I thought medical answers might help me heal and also thought they would help us know how to add to our family.  For those that have walked this journey with us you know we have looked at every possibility, gone through extensive testing and met with numerous specialist.  I've seen two different OBs, two different Maternal Fetal Specialist, a genetics counselor, a Reproductive Endocrinologist, a hematologist, a rheumatologist (not to mention the numerous specialist I've seen for my autoimmune issues)...and we have some great guesses, but we will never know medically why we lost Gabriel or my miscarriages.  I've learned that even if we did find the medical answer to the why question...well, we still don't really know WHY...the big WHY?...the WHY we ask God and not the doctors.

I recently received a Lupus diagnosis...still not sure the details because of conflicting test results, but it poses even more questions...especially for God.  It seems as though pregnancy triggered the Lupus to flare.  So not only have I lost all my babies, but as an added bonus God threw in a lifelong illness...God, I'm really struggling...I take one step closer to You and it feels as if you push me 5 steps back.  I felt a stab in the heart with each loss...each time I crawled until I could stand, cried out to God for His help and begged for mercy and just as I would begin to walk again I was stabbed in the heart all over again.  Each time I was slower to get up...this last time I wasn't sure I would ever get up...I struggled with God to the point of exhaustion and told Him that He wins.  I just barely got back to my feet this time (forget walking) and embraced the fact that my strength came from God and that I can't do this alone...I accepted that I wouldn't have sufficient answers here on earth, but my faith was still there.  I begged God for joy...I was so tired of darkness swallowing me up...God point me in the direction I need to follow!   Then before I put my next foot in front of the other I received a diagnosis...REALLY?!?!  I'm so tired...there isn't any fight left and hasn't been for awhile...if God wanted us broken well, we've been broken into so many pieces that we are barely recognizable... I don't even know who I am anymore.  I'm a Christian, but I find myself wanting a relationship with God more than there actually is one...I feel like God has His back turned toward me.  Deep down I know that isn't true, but when I hear others lay claim to miracles (new job, new house, new baby, new spouse, found cell phone, found money, etc.)...and I struggle believing that God had any part in it because if He did...where is my miracle?  I've found myself covered in tears lying on the floor of Gabriel's nursery sobbing, begging God to make himself known to me...make himself real...show me a miracle...but God can't because He is too busy helping someone else get a new job or find their car keys?!?!  How on earth can I accept that those are actually God intervened events?  I don't, but then I live in a world that God isn't present or involved in?  I don't accept that either.

So here I sit with no idea of what the future holds...a question mark....no idea why I had to say goodbye to my sweet babies...another question mark....and no idea where God is in all of this...the biggest question mark of all.