Silence

I've been too busy.

I've completely neglected you over here, and for that, I'm sorry.

Even this post will be scant on detail. 

It's just that not much has changed.

I was thinking about it the other day. 

From the time we got Kathryn's diagnosis to the time we delivered was four weeks.  EXACTLY.

We're already going on 8 weeks, exactly. 

Eight weeks ago, on August 22, we got the news that sweet baby Micah has the same problem that Kathryn had. 

EIGHT.  WEEKS.

If you had told me I was going to have to go through this again, but this time, have my patience and stamina tested for twice or THREE TIMES as long, I would have laughed in your face. 

Never say never, right? 

I think I've said that before here, too.

I had lunch with a friend today.
She told me lots of folks read this that I didn't even know. 

So I promise you, I'm not neglecting you.

It's just that when  you're waiting this long, for something where you already KNOW how hard it's going to be, how emotionally draining it's going to be, and how completely debilitating it's going to be to your soul, well, then, I'll be honest.  You just don't want to dwell on it every day.

So we don't. 

Instead, we celebrate life.
The little things.
Lunches with friends. 
Talks on the phones with moms and dads, brothers and sisters.  Best friends and new friends.

We take our son to church, and we make new friends.
We take walks (or as long of a walk as I can handle these days).

We watch the sun come up.

And we laugh.

We really don't even cry.

Not yet, at least. 
Because to be honest, we both know that we may have plenty of tears down the road, so why on earth should we waste them now.

We celebrate our son's third birthday.
And we relish in the fact that he talks about his brother in my belly, with no idea as to what the future holds. 

And we hold onto that innocence. 

For one more day.
One more week.

And with each day, each week, we know we've made it a little farther.

And we give it to God.

We were in church yesterday, and the pastor was talking about giving and sacrificing.

I'll be honest. 
I got angry.

Haven't we given enough?

There are many of us in our family, in our close circle of friends, who feel the same way.  Who feel angry, and just get tired of figuring out why. 

And I think that's okay. 

Like my Grandie always said: It's not our job to put socks on God.

So we continue.  Oftentimes in silence.
Words don't necessarily come to me every day right now, and you'll just need to be okay with that.

Of course we want as many prayers, as many talks, and as many questions as you can muster.

And then sometimes, it's just nice to sit with us in the silence. 
In the NOT talking about it.

I have an appointment tomorrow. 
I promise an update then.
And I'm planning on setting up a face book page soon for Micah.
As we draw closer to his birthday we'll use it more for communication, as it's so very hard to do multiple updates, especially in the hospital.  And I may as well write off blogging from there in general, in my narcotics induced haze.

I'll be 27 weeks Friday.

While I'm not due for three months, somehow I can't help but think it's coming up sooner rather than later.

Trust me, you'll know as soon as we do.