Friday, February 22, 2013

Attacked and Step parents.

I am a stepmom. A role I think doesn't get far near the attention that it deserves.


Loving the kids is the mostly easy, fun part. Learning your role is hard. I am not one to sit back and ride passively thru life. Especially my life. Thankfully Jason and I agree on that and it translates well to our family dynamics. Setting boundaries is confusing. Communicating thru parents can be tough. Not talking to the other set of parents doesn't get anyone very far. Kids feeling awkward and put in the middle does nothing but cause angst for everyone. Running your household different than the other house they are in most of the time can cause confusion and frustration. This gives Satan ample opportunity to jump in and muddy the waters and hurt a feeling here, cause an argument there.

When you divorce you give up a right to have your kids full time. With that you relinquish control when they are with the other patent. When you remarry you invite someone else into your life to share your children with. Good, bad, ugly. There are growing pains with any change and this is certainly no exception. Just because step is in front of my name doesn't change much in our home. We treat each other with respect, kindness and dignity. When there's a problem we encourage it to be talked out. I have a voice. As does Jason. As do the kids. Sometimes it goes beautifully other times it ends in fights and tantrums and tears. But- we make it thru better for it!

L riding bikes with me and out of nowhere telling me how lucky his daddy is to have met me bc I'm so nice and funny and cool.!

Satan attacks though. All the time. Sometimes it feels like a sucker punch. Out of nowhere, drama, death, heartache, hurt, confusion, misunderstanding, jealousy, pride.

Satan has been all over me when it comes to kids. God gave me a mother's heart from my first job babysitting, then in a daycare then falling in love with J, falling in love with my nephews, to falling in love with K, A, and L. To a love and loss i cant adequately describe with Tucker and Fletcher, I have loved all these kids in very unique ways. In very real ways. In very honest and pure ways. And Satan has tried to find any in to destroy the beautiful relationships we had, we have, or were hoping for. Sometimes they are obvious and annoying, other times heartbreaking and infuriating.

If its for 4 years now in another state, 2 months now in heaven or moments at a time, it breaks my heart. It's not the children and I negatively affecting our relationship, it's the enemy trying to stifle what we have together.

Satan is actively, purposefully trying to break me.

A friend tonight emailed and said that in conversation with avery Godly woman, God had laid Barren woman on her heart. For her to pray for these ladies, that the most Godly children have come from barren woman. John the Baptist and Issac as examples. She said she believes the more important the child is intended to be, the harder the enemy tries to defeat the mom. She encouraged me to stay strong, believing that my children will be world changers for Jesus.


Satan is pulling out all the stops to try defeat me. From a broken heart for the boys I lost and fear to try again.

Won't. Happen.


Step parenting is tough. Making the decision to have another baby is terrifying. Having to let go of some precious boys I love with my whole heart who were taken away bc of pride outside of my control hurts my heart every day. I pray C, P and J know I love them. My heart cries each time I think of my sons.

But I'm going to say this again.

Satan will not win!

My children will be God sent and they will make a difference in this world.

I'm blessed bc I don't have to fight this battle alone. God's promises sustain me and I know how this story ends. With me being a mom to a baby or 2 who will change the world and forever hold my heart.

They'll be overachievers. Just like Tucker and Fletcher. Watch and see what happens. I know God is up to something..

I pray the sucker punches start to subside and we experience more hope, more peace and more joy. To you as we'll...

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Holy Crap and Postpartum Depression

I don't have a lot of humility left. Being in a hospital for 2 weeks on mostly bedrest takes that away. Having Jason help with the bedpan, having my parents and mother in law help me with the leg warmer contraption that massaged my legs to prevent blood clots, having nurses check on things while I'm in the shower, and everything else I went thru, I really don't care about stuff like I did before.

I've learned, the hardest way possible, what really matters in life. To not sweat the small stuff. Such a simple concept, someone should write a book about it or something.

It's not fair, maybe, this new attitude I have bc it feels judgmental to others. When people get upset over stupid things it makes me want to scream. When someone is petty or immature and looking for a fight it makes me want to shake them and ask, "have you ever had to learn what really matters in life?" I know the answer.

I'm depressed. Clinically. That's not fun to admit. I have postpartum depression. I can't even tell you how awesome it is to have something that should be running concurrent with holding my babies. It sucks.

My milk refuses to dry up. Nearly 2 months later this is ridiculous. Dr's keep saying it should have dried up after 2 weeks. Of course it's still leaking. Because that is how awesome things are right now. I don't have the babies to feed but my body won't accept that and I'm depressed added in hormones which makes it so much worse.

I'm not ok staying here. I'm fighting my way out. I went to a dr yesterday that I haven't been to in a very long time. It took me back to a very dark place. I cried from a place that is very deep. That's scary that grief runs so deep inside your whole being. Its not something that is easily healed. I'm an instant gratification kind of gal. This is tough.

It's silly in a duh kind of way but sometimes its hits me in the face that we lost 2 babies. 11 days apart. After We lost Tucker there was something to hold onto. We still had Fletcher. Now I'm just empty. The Dr told me that this is a season and it sucks and I'm in the middle of the storm but seasons change and this will too, eventually. There was some comfort in that.

My out of shape self has decided it's time to do something. I give up easily now. I make a ton of excuses. My confidence has disappeared. Last night I wanted to not go running but I made a promise to Jason. It's a good feeling when you love someone so much you can't break a promise to them. Even though that promise nearly made me puke.

In an effort to make packing easier (I hate packing) for the move next month (I hate moving) I've started purging, decluttering and organizing. It feels good to get some order back on our lives but holy crap we have a lot of crap. If I haven't seen the sweater in 2 years its out. If the 15 socks on the dryer haven't found their mates by now they are in the trash.

There is therapy in purging the bad, the useless and the forgotten.

(I think that might have just been a life lesson)

I've shared a lot on this blog. Our infertility struggles, the loss of Tucker and Fletcher and now saying, out loud, I have postpartum depression. It sucks. I'm carrying shame, like I can control any of this. The shame comes from feeling like I'm letting other people down. Like I should be further along than I am. I know that's in my head. But I'm further along than I was yesterday so I will count that as success.

I'm blessed bc I have a husband who ran behind me telling me not to quit, to keep going, that I could do it. And I found out I can. And I will. I have a reason to get healthy and I am ready to face it.

Hot pink running shoes are the first step. And I took it.

Thursday, February 14, 2013

The day my water broke...and the rest of the story

I had a dr appt that Monday morning. Jason didn't go with me, one of the only ones he couldn't make. It was much the same. Boys moving nonstop, ovaries still swollen, talk about my continuous puking. See you in 4 weeks, anatomy scan at the high risk dr that Thurs.

I started cramping a few hours after my appt. I'd been having Braxton Hicks for awhile so it didn't worry me too much. The dr told me the babies were growing so the cramping would be off and on. Went to Mom and Dad's and the cramps got worse. My back was killing me. I was on my hands and knees trying to get some relief. Called the dr on call expecting to get something like hydrate well and put your feet up. Instead I was asked if I was bleeding or if my water had broke, bc if so then there was nothing they could do. I was furious and really put off that she even suggested that. About an hour later I went to the bathroom and peed. I felt a strong gush and was terrified and looked down but there was nothing abnormal. I went back to the couch and realized I had wet myself. I went back to the bathroom and knew at that point that my water had broke. I went cold. Literally felt myself go into shock. I called for Mom bc I couldnt figure out how to tell Jason. I will never forget the look on Mom's face when I told her. I saw her fear and her heart break. She asked if I was bleeding and I told her no. Then I checked and found out I was. I cant even describe the way I felt. Shock took over, i kept apologizing and everyone was rushing around. They rushed to get me something to change into to go to the hospital. By the time I got to the car I had soaked through it and had to change again. I will never forget that car ride, Jason driving so fast, us both thinking if we got there soon enough they could do something. I had seen the boys hours earlier. They were fine. I've never been so scared in my life.

The ER dr was awful. I had blood all over me and was using a bed pan. He never examined me bc 1. I was pregnant and he was scared of it I think and 2. I told him I had hyperstimulated with IVF and he was terrified he would pop an ovary or something. Stupid man. We had an ultrasound and for the first time our moms got to see the boys. They were moving and kicking and flipping. But Tucker had very little fluid left. They told us sometimes it replenishes itself. That's the moment I really believed everything would somehow be ok. It would be too cruel for our moms to see the boys for them not to make it.

The dr came in and told me I probably had a UTI and they were releasing me. I had been in the ER the Fri night prior for dehydration and vomiting and they were going to admit me but sent me home with meds instead. I was scared about going home bleeding and leaking fluid and was insistent that I was not leaving. He said my dr would not admit me for a UTI. I was panicked. I was yelling at him that I would not leave and to get my dr on the phone. When I talked to her she said since I had no blood and the dr indicated I had peed on myself and my water had not broke, there was no need to keep me. I told her there was blood all over me. She said the dr examined me and saw no blood. He never even got within 2' of me. She immediately admitted me to labor and delivery. I never had a UTI.

When I got up there they did a swab and it turned purple which indicated that what I was leaking was amniotic fluid. Was basically told that baby A wouldn't last thru the night and baby B would soon follow.

I was checked out daily by both my OB and High Risk. Was told, daily, by 2 sets of dr's that the odds were horrible but keep believing. Pray. Have faith. They couldn't believe that I was still pregnant with them. Dr's cried w us. Nurses cried with us. Nurses that were off called nurses that were on to check on us. We were surrounded with love and care. I prayed more than I ever have. I was prayed over. I really believed we'd be ok. We saw the boys, moving, waving, flipping.

Wed I started having contractions. The worst pain of my life. I had gone to the bathroom that day and passed something really large. It was a clot the size of a small orange. i just knew from what it felt like that i had delivered Tucker. I couldnt bring myself to face that to look and screamed for the nurse and Jason. They came in to get me and Jason looked and promised me over and over that it wasnt Tucker. It was a clot. I was hysterical and could not stop screaming and crying. I cant even describe the total despair i felt.

I didn't have an epidural and no one really came out and said that the pain was labor. It lasted about 18 hours. The next morning I was really nauseous from medicine they had given me so they gave me meds that made me sleep. When the high risk dr came in I was in and out of sleep and missed that Tucker had moved into the birth canal.

Everyone went home for the night around 930 bc I had done well all day and the pain had mostly stopped. Jason left the room for a minute to go down the hall. I was alone for the first time since I was admitted. This is the part that replays in my mind non stop. I went to the bathroom and I felt a gush and assumed it was another clot. I looked down and it was Tucker. I had delivered my baby. I started screaming. I called Jason and he came running down the hall. I pulled the emergency cord and the nurses came running. I don't remember a lot. I went into shock and only remember Jason telling me to stay with him and nurses holding me while they cut the cord. I looked over a saw nurses and the dr crying. I had an honest fear that I was going to die. I don't remember when my parents got there but I remember my mom holding my face and talking to me. We held Tucker. He was beautiful. He was perfect. He had my nose and my lips. I didn't know that he was alive when he was born. We held him for a long time. It doesn't seem like long enough.

Everyday after that I had scans and Fletcher had plenty of fluid. He was as busy as ever, waving, flipping, moving around. We were told he looked perfect. But not to get our hopes up bc the odds were really bad that I would deliver him in a few hours. Then hours turned to days. I still hadn't delivered Tucker's placenta so they were very concerned about infection. Said if there were signs of infection they would have to induce to protect me. I don't know that I would have ever let that happen. I was obsessively checking my temp to make sure it wasnt rising. i never did get the tell tell signs of infection that they kept assuming I had. They said they could go ahead and induce since I would lose him anyway. That was never an option. Even in the quiet moments when I couldn't stop the fear, couldn't stop the sobs, couldn't stand that I had no control over protecting my baby other than to lay there and pray and try to stay strong for him.

It was a constant roller coaster of the worst kind. I told them my fears of delivering Fletcher the same way, I couldn't do that again. They assured me that if I went into labor I'd have signs of infection or my water would break first. That it would not be a surprise like Tucker had been.

9 long days later and we were feeling pretty settled. I was going to be on bed rest for the rest of my pregnancy and I was ready to do whatever I could do for Fletcher. 9 days in I started having bad stomach pains. I was on a ton of antibiotics to ward off any infection. I had 40 IV doses and more than 50 doses orally. The nurses told me that it was gas pains. They gave me anti gas meds. It was awful pain. At this point I was able to get up to use the bathroom only so I couldn't walk around to work it out. The next morning the dr prescribed double doses of the anti gas stuff. That next night was the longest night of my life. And the worst.

Mom and Dad didn't leave. Jason was there with me of course. I was on all 4's screaming and rebuking Satan and the pain and praying. They came in and put contraction monitors on but it didn't really show contractions. Jason laid in bed with me and held me as I screamed and cried. No one was sleeping. Everyone was exhausted. Everyone was praying. At one point I was on the toilet and mom was in there with me. The nurse came in and gave me a shot of morphine in my thigh and 2 pain pills. Thought it was a lot for gas but no one said anything otherwise. It didn't help. i was desperate for this pain to stop.

At 530 that morning I went to the bathroom, by myself and I had the exact same feeling of a gush. I looked down and I saw my beautiful baby boy moving. I had delivered Fletcher the exact same way. Alone. My head was spinning, I heard myself screaming. I couldn't imagine telling Jason that I had delivered Fletcher too so I screamed for Mom. She came in and I was hysterical and she ran and got the nurses. The nurses were panicked bc Fletcher was alive and she was in shock and was crying and trying to hold me. A charge nurse came and took care of cutting the cord. Dad carried Fletcher to the other room they took me to. For about 20 mins dad held his little grandson and his little grandson held onto Dad's finger.

Fletcher lived for awhile. I have never been more hysterical, more empty, more scared. I asked mom to pray for my healing bc I had an all consuming fear that I was going to die. That something was wrong with me and my family who had just been through hell were going to lose me too.

I went in to surgery. Came out and ended up having to have a blood transfusion. I had a constant stream of nurses and dr's and anesthesiologists coming to check on me. To hug us. To cry with us. I went in between total numbness and sobs that came from a deep place I didn't know I had.

The next night, which was Christmas, we left the hospital. Not with our sons, with 2 memory boxes. With no book on how to move on. How to face this new reality. How to handle the new life that is without 2 very loved babies.

And here we are. I had to get this out. I feel like the more it is told maybe the less it will haunt me. I hear myself screaming still. I see the looks of heartache and fear on the faces of those I love most in this world, when I tell them the awful news. My water broke. I'm bleeding. I delivered Tucker. I delivered Fletcher. Watching both of our sons suffocate to death and not being able to do 1 thing to make it better. To heal them. To do anything other than sob the most gut wrenching sob I hope I never experience again. I can't get over the feeling of delivering both our sons. The contractions. The labor. The pain. Mothers say the pain of child birth is forgotten the moment you hold your baby. I am pretty sure that none of this pain will ever be forgotten.

I love our boys. I miss them. I would trade everything I have to have them back. I am trying to heal so that I can remember them as they deserve to be remembered. They lived. If only for an hour or 2. They were held by their parents and their grandparents. They knew they were loved.

I'm a mom. And my babies are in heaven. At some point that will bring me comfort.

Monday, February 11, 2013

So long, farewell...we're moving!!

The Neu's are relocating.

Only 10 miles away but still.

It was time for a change. We are leaving our 4 bed/3 bath home with a beautiful lake view in a neighborhood of boring people for a 3 story condo in the heart of the town center close to all my favorite things with a beautiful view of convenience.

Movin on up!

Literally. Our bedroom is on the 3rd floor. For those bad at math, that's 2 flights of stairs. Garage and rooms are on the 1st floor. The kitchen and family room is on 2nd. Bedrooms on 3rd. Why this seems exciting and cool I have no idea. Its a lot of stairs. When we showed the kids we told them to act cool in front of the agent. They walk in and scream that they LUUUVV it and dance and laugh and talk all over each other about how much they want it and love it and can we puh-lease get it. We are a subtle kind of family.


We will be spittin distance to Publix, Starbucks, shopping, dining and target! Oh, my!

We are excited and ready for change. This house is big and yet it feels suffocating. We need change. We need something new. We need a project.

I have taken up painting. And redoing furniture. It's been therapeutic for me, I love creating something from nothing. And when I screw up or don't like it I paint over the mistake until it becomes what I want it to be. Sometimes I think I created a huge mess. Until I take a few steps back, get a different perspective and see I've created a really fab piece!

Lesson there probably. But right now I feel like lessons are flying over my head.

Anger is subsiding. It's been replaced with, wait for it, terrifying anxiety and panic attacks. Awesome!! This is just nuts. The smallest thing sends me into a tailspin and or a complete meltdown. My coping skills are gone. I have negative self esteem. This I don't understand. I know I didn't fail. How have I convinced myself, then, that I'm a complete failure and can't do anything right?! It's not a pity party. It's my reality right now and I need to figure this out.

I'm a mess. I can admit that. But I am trying my hardest to figure out how to stop being such a mess. I'm really scared that this feeling of total emptiness will never go away and with that the tears that are always close to spilling over, the meltdown that is one change of plans away from happening and anxiety from seeing a baby, a mom, a carseat or anything baby ish will always push me over the edge into total panic.

I miss being my neurotic mess of a person. I know neurotic. Neurotic is comfortable to me. This skittish, scared, anxious me is a sucky replacement for who I used to be. Yes, I'm lonely for my neurotic old self. *nutcase*

I'm moving forward. I think. I'm getting out of the bed, out of the house. I'm trying to go places myself. Trying to go places that push the envelope of the crazys.

But I'm still a mess. I need a change. I'm happy w my husband, will never change my hair, can't change what happened so I guess moving up to a 3 story condo is change enough for now.

We'll see...

3 story. So, uh, anyone free to move furniture in a few weeks?! Haha. Kidding. Kind of. No, really. So, yea, let me know!

Saturday, February 9, 2013

Survivor's Guilt

I know what everyone will say,"you couldn't have done anything different, or more.." I am their mom, you're supposed to be able to protect your kids. And I couldn't.  It's stupid to me. 
I'm stuck in the anger. It's not who I am and this doesn't feel good or right. I feel like I'm taking something away from Tucker and Fletcher but the numbness is wearing off and my heart aches, all the time. And I feel guilty. Logical or not.  Blah!

I don't know how to pray. And I really want to pray. But all that seems to come out is me confessing to God that I'm just so angry. For someone who always has much to say, I find myself pretty much without words. Frustrating. 

I went to the dr yesterday and she said that my body has been assaulted for a year now. With the rounds of hormones for IUI, the IVF meds, the hyperstim, the drainings, the twin pregnancy, 2 deliveries that lasted days each time with horrible labor. I don't know what normal feels like. But I would have stayed screwed up if I was given the choice. Blegh!

Our boys were healthy. There was nothing wrong with them. That doesn't make it easier. The dr's, from day 1, told me I had a hard pregnancy. My ovaries never went down to normal during the pregnancy. I was still carrying a lot of extra fluid. I was throwing up, everyday. 5-15 times a day. Until my water broke. I never threw up again. Awesome, huh?

I'm struggling. The moment we found out we were having 2 boys, my heart opened up to a love I didn't know was possible. Having the dr's tell me that they knew I would lose both babies but I did more than they expected to keep Fletcher in for 11 days breaks my heart. I don't understand what those 11 days taught me. Bc in those moments, I cried out, I prayed, we had hope, we believed. And we still lost what we all knew would be our miracle. Sucks!

Dr's seem to think I can carry again with no problems. How you take that leap of faith is beyond me. They think it was just a doomed pregnancy from the start. That's hard to hear. It's hard to know that if my body was strong enough We'd be close to bringing our boys home. I would be breastfeeding with the milk that refuses to dry up already! Over it!

1 step forward, 10 steps back. Ok days and sad days. Today has been sad. But it's only noon so there's time for it to turn around. Who says I can't find the bright side of crap?

Blessed because for whatever reason I've decided to put my thoughts out to the world, it helps..

Blah blah blah. If I'm being honest I'm blessed because my husband just brought me churros and I'm going to go eat my feelings.

Don't judge.

Thursday, February 7, 2013

One boy, one girl

Once upon a time I met a handsome man. And we got married 8 months later and lived happily ever after.

Haha. I wish.

Married the handsome man 8 months after we met, that part's true. I would have married him 8 days after I think.

I don't know what it is about he and I that works so well together but man, what we have really works together. Being both our 2nd marriages may have something to do with it, not sure. We certainly appreciate what we have in each other. I never put much stock into souls mates, kindred spirits blah blah blah but I can say I know for sure what it means to love someone more today than yesterday. It's kind of the best feeling in the world.

Jason is strong. One of the strongest people I know. I wish I didn't know the depth of his strength, honestly. You only get to know that through pain and heartache. Thinking about our time in the hospital and all we have been through, and the past year really, I was able to make it to where I am now bc of him.

He makes me want to be better. Be stronger. He makes me laugh out loud more times during the day than I can count. He has carried the sucky burden of doing all the sucky things like picking up the boys ashes, dealing w insurance, hospital, dr's billing department, the tree stuff... Anything that needs to be done he has taken care of. I know how much he loves me because that is something he wants to run from as much as I do but does it because he knows I'm not strong enough yet to do it. Or maybe I'm strong enough but he doesn't want me to face anymore pain. He does that for me. Shields me from pain as much as he can even when it means he has to face it head on.

I wish I could do the same for him. I wish he didn't have to be so strong. I wish that the little boys I dreamed of wrecking havoc on our home and getting bruised up for doing silly things boys do together and learning manly things from their daddy wasn't only a dream now. That's something that hurts. That I will never get to see him being his amazing self with Tucker and Fletcher. But I will forever remember the care, tenderness and love he showed our boys while we held them. While we loved them and when we lost them.

I get to see him being a special Daddy to 3 special kids that love him and need him. I get to see him being a grateful son, a thankful son in law that would do anything in the world for those he loves. And even those he doesn't.

I'm bragging, I know. I knew that God would bless me with a special man. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I'd land someone like Jason.

I'm blessed. Beyond anything I deserve, I have a man who loves me, who takes care of me, who understands me and who shares a love and pain and longing no one else can truly understand that will forever bond us together. I hate the reason we found out our love is made to last and I hope I never take for granted what a precious, special man I have in my best friend. My husband. My world.

I love you, my dude! More every day!

Sunday, February 3, 2013

Holy Crap,Tattoos and Prayer

15,000+ pageviews.  Holy Crap!!  That means that my blogs, my words, my neurotic feelings have been read over 15,000 times.  Amazing to me. 
I have really been having a hard time lately.  Anytime you experience loss I think you go thru denial.  Maybe it's your bodys way of self preservation, if I felt the way I felt now, all the time, I would never get out of bed.  But luckily I have enough good moments that I trick myself into thinking I'm better than I am so at least I get out of the house.  Then I have breakdowns in the car, bathrooms, outside of restaurants, wherever, but I'm out of the house.  Success!  blah
I miss them.  No way around it.  No way to pretty it up.  My heart is aching, my body is empty, I miss my boys.  For awhile babies didn't bother me.  I guess I was grieving something different at that point because I could see babies or pictures of babies and I'd be ok.  Now I can't.  They send me over the edge.  Seeing toddler boys sends me into a panic.  I close my eyes and I picture what Tucker and Flecther would both look like at 6 month olds.  As 2 year olds.  But it's not a fun game because I don't know what they will look like.  I have the mental picture of my boys as they were when I held them.  And that has to somehow be enough for me until I see them again.  This is the worst kind of pain.  It doesn't go away.  I miss being pregnant.  I miss counting down the months until they would be here.  I miss talking to Jason about how we would manage 2 newborns at the same time.  I hate that we ever even questioned if we could because I know we would have figured it out and we would have done a great job.  I'm so sad that we will never hold them again.  See them smile, hear them cry, comfort them and sing to them.  That just hit me the other night, I'll never get those precious moments with the boys I love so much.  There's nothing fair about that. 
I wanted something that I could look at whenever I wanted, that would always be there for me to see and remember my boys.  This tattoo has given me that.   It makes them feel closer to me somehow.  So now I have a tattoo, 2 boxes of ashes and a beautiful tree to remember our sons.  I'm trying not to be bitter that that is what we got out of this. 
I've been a Christian since I was a young child.  I have always had a very strong faith.  And I've had a good life but it's not always been an easy life.  I've gone through dark valleys that lasted way too long but I always believed that God was directing my path.  I prayed my mom healed when she was diagnosed with cancer.  I have always had a strong prayer life and that has given me strength and comfort through some hard times.  I'm struggling right now.  Just being honest.  I had so many people praying for us.  For our boys to be ok.  For us to bring them home healthy.  If my prayers had been enough then they would be moving strong inside me now, months away from meeting their mom and dad.  But my prayers didn't seem like enough.  The prayers of so many people who so selflessly prayed for me, for us, for our family, for our boys. 
I don't understand.  I know that God doesn't cause bad things to happen to people.  I know that He equips us to walk through the hard times.  But I feel cheated, I feel suckered and I feel duped.  I had too many signs that Fletcher was going to make it.  That we would have our miracle.  Then I deliver Fletcher the exact same way I delivered Tucker, which no mother should ever had to go through, and I watched my boys die.  I don't understand.  What were the prayers for?  Were they for my peace?  For Jason's understanding?  I know God's will is for our good.  This doesn't feel good.  This feels really sucky. 
But my boys mattered.  They were loved, they were wanted, they were perfect.  I know they were greeted in Heaven by some very loving grandparents who I know are taking excellent care of my little boys.  I just don't know why my prayers couldn't heal my boys.  And that's something I'm working through.  God hasn't left me.  He hasn't forsaken me.  I will get through this at some point stronger.  Just hard right now to see that through the tears. 
I have a beautiful life.  I really do.  I will get out of this valley and I will be ok.  I will never understand, this side of heaven, but I can let this make me bitter, or I can let it make me better.  I don't want anything ugly attached to my boys so I will continue to do my best, even if it's through my tears, to be the best I can be.  There are 2 precious little boys who deserve that from their mom!