Putting it all into perspective...

I'd been feeling a little sentimental lately. Jacob is getting to be such a big boy. He feeds himself, walks, he's starting to talk more. I feel terribly guilty that I didn't enjoy as much as I think I should have. I wish I would have been home more, taken more pictures, documented more milestones, bought a video camera. I didn't expect he'd be my only shot at this mommy gig.

I know Jeremy and I were incredibly blessed to have been given such a great kid, to be given this experience that even a green stained tushie couldn't change (it came out in his bath, by the way). I thank God above so many times a day, when Jacob waves bye to me in the morning, when he blows me kisses, when he laughs, and even sometimes when he cries. I know I should be thankful for what I do have, and I really, truly am. I couldn't love Jacob more if he were my biological child.

We've given up on conceiving a child. We haven't been taking preventative measures for years. What's the point? I haven't given up hope, I haven't given up the dream. I guess, I've given up on the pain. How many miscarriages is your body, your heart, or your mind meant to endure? It's not like riding a bike, you don't get used to it, it doesn't get easier. It doesn't hurt less. Every loss feels like another failure. I've stopped telling Jeremy when they happen. I can't face the disappointment in his eyes anymore. He's such a great dad. I want to give him a child, I really do. I can't. All this time - that's what still hurts the most.

I look back to the year or two before Jacob was born. I can't even look back fondly. It was horrible. I look at the drugs I took, the tests we endured, the amount of blood I gave, the money we spent, and all the fights we had. Wasted...all of it wasted. I can't believe we didn't get divorced. It was that bad! I would have divorced me. I can't even imagine what it would have been like to bring a child into the mess our marriage was in at that time. I look at Jeremy and I now, we're so much stronger together. We have fun together. We've grown so much together, we talk so much, we don't fight - not like that anyway - we still argue but, I like us...now.

I talked to my friend Jeannie the other night - had to share the green tushie story - and her great-nephew (now, I feel really old!) is in the hospital receiving Chemo treatments for Leukemia. Little Harper (coincidence) is 11 months old! This beautiful child is fighting this horrible disease. Who do I think I am, feeling sorry for myself? I think I've missed out? His mommy could miss his first birthday, or seeing him walk, wave bye, and blow kisses. In my book, that's way worse than anything I can't have. There's something about a seriously hurt or ill child that puts everything into perspective - quick-like. Thankfully, Harper is fighting with all he's got - I've seen some pictures, as we say in this family - "if you didn't know, you wouldn't know!" I pray that his mommy doesn't miss a thing.

She didn't know it but, Jeannie made me think how blessed I really am. Blessed to have a healthy, beautiful boy. Blessed to have a strong, healthy marriage. Blessed to have a family that I love, that loves me. Blessed to have great friends that I can depend on. I feel guilty to even think of asking God for another gift, he gave me one, it's someone else's turn.

I heard in a movie once, "There's a special God for children...". I believe that! In this world, it's sometimes hard to believe it, but I do. There's always hope. There's hope for little Harper. There's hope that we may conceive a child. No matter what, there's always hope.