People always say that life can change in an instant.  And for me it did.  Seven years ago today I delivered, loved and lost our stillborn son Matthew.  I was completely overcome with grief, literally running through every fiber of my being.  Three days prior confirmed what my mommy heart already knew… my baby had died.  I had to wait those dreadful days to be admitted to the hospital and, after eighteen gruesome hours of labor, I gave birth to our tiny and perfect son.   It was Thanksgiving Day and we spent it in the “fetal demise” wing of Emory Hospital.  I keep a small box of his meager memories, and they are the most precious “things” that I own.  We later learned from Matthew’s autopsy that I passed a blood clot through my cord.

I share this story each year mostly because I never want to forget him.  I have three sons and am blessed enough to have two of them still with me.  I carry Matthew in my heart every.single.day.  Most people that I meet have no idea that there is a third.  So I write about him and tell all of you about him.  Because he is very, very real to me.

I also share my story because, more than anything in the world, when I was going through this immense loss I desperately wanted to talk to someone that had been there.  My family and friends helped every way they knew how, and for that I will forever be grateful.  I have not forgotten a single act of kindness during that time.  But I longed to talk to someone that had walked this road, and I needed to hear that I would be whole again.  And while I cannot make sense of losing a child, I can now clearly see what a gift the passage of time truly is in healing a heart. So, if you or someone you know ever needs someone like I did during that time, please, please just ask.

And the last reason that I talk about Matthew is to help explain why I do all of the things that I do for John and Whit, day in and day out.  I just know how much of a miracle those two children truly are.  My blood clotting disorder was not unique to Matthew.  I went through my pregnancy with John blissfully unaware and delivered a healthy eight pounder two weeks early against ALL odds.  He only had a 20% chance of making it, I later found out.  My pregnancy with Whit was high risk and riddled with grief and worry.  On top of the blood clotting, I had a host of other issues with my placenta and everything else.  Even treated, the doctors gave me an 80% chance of a successful pregnancy.  But I prayed for that child like I’ve never prayed before.  Ever.  And he came safe and sound at nine pounds a whole week early.  So, I do my best to fill each and every one of the days that I have with them with love, joy and happiness.  I know that each day is a gift and that one day they will leave my nest.  I now know that is what I was put here to do, and it took losing Matthew to realize this.

I decorate our house for Christmas in November every year.  The first time I ever did it that early was when I was pregnant with Matthew.  The day that I came home without him we lit up all the trees for the first time and it made me smile when I thought I might never smile again.  So, every year since, we decorate in mid-November and light everything up for the first time on Matthew’s birthday.

Today I remember all babies born and lost too soon, especially my dear friend S’s twin boys, and the daughters of friends RD, ET and AG.  Little Matthew lived a very short life, but it was one filled wholly with love, joy, wonder and adoration.  He never hurt, never wanted, never knew meanness or anger.  Just love.  And that’s exactly how I remember his life cut short.  With love.

xoxo