Chapter 22: Battle axed

    

A good portion of this post has now been axed.... I vented.  I'm over it.  I feel better.  In it, I talked about how Thursdays and Fridays are hard because I have to share Josiah with his family...


and this was the tail end of it in which I left as it is...




And then I think about why am I even putting myself through this?  I don't have to be a foster parent.  Most people have babies and get to keep them.  I don't want to share my babies with anyone else.  But then I am reminded why I started doing this in the first place.

Some people have asked me if I want to continue to foster children and the answer is "yes- ateast 2 more kids."  I have lost a total of 4 of my babies.  I've only heard 2 of their heartbeats.  2 of them have ultrasound pictures.  1 has a grave sight in my backyard by my favorite tree, but no one but Justin or I know where it is.  Only 1 has a name.  There are no grave stones.  They weren't even here long enough to get "a dash." You know, the born on this day (dash) died on this day. The world would never know they even existed, unless you look at my medical records. But I refuse to be connected to them through grief.  I do not want to live my life looking the calendar thinking, "This would have been their birthday.  This would have been their first Christmas.  This should have been the time they started walking."  Being sad for them doesn't honor their memory or celebrate their lives.  But I do still yearn to be connected to them in some way.  So badly.  I never knew them, but I love them.  And I am determined that this world will in some way be different because they were here.    

I resoluted that if there were two qualities I would want my children to have, it is for them to be compassionate and generous.  It is one thing to be compassionate and empathetic towards others, it is something completely different when you give of yourself and your time to make some one else's life better than it was before you knew them.  My four babies were never here for me to teach them that.  So in their honor, I want to be that for them.  Compassionate and generous- to four babies that DO have names and faces and dashes.  And I want to show Molly how to do that not just with words, but with actions.  The world WILL be different because they were here.  Okay- maybe not the world, but to four lives- we will strive to make a difference.      

Some days that goal is harder than others- like Thursdays and Fridays.  But it is neither of those days today.  It is Monday.  Glorious Monday.  No where to go.  No visitors.  A day to wear mis-matched socks.  Just me and my two babies... pretending like this is how it will always be.  It is a good day.