The NorMel House

 A year ago my sister told the family that she was expecting. Almost 9 weeks! Which put her 9 weeks behind my pregnancy with Izzy. Most people would be so excited by this but my reality tends to differ from most. Instead of excitement I was struck with a heartbreaking thought. I was going to lose my child and watch hers grow up instead. I'd see her child taking its first steps, hear it say its first words and watch it grow healthy and strong. It was at that moment that the tiny flicker of hope, I'd just started having, died.  I cried. I cried for the child in my womb. I cried for her eight siblings that have gone to heaven before her. I cried for myself. For all the firsts I'll never see. For all the little hands I never got to hold. And I cried for all the firsts I had that I'd never wish on anyone. I dont know why I knew I was going to lose this child too, but I did. In bitterness I thought it would probably happen on the anniversary of Denver's death. It was clos

I hate December. It sucks. It hurts. So much having to fake an attitude/mood. I put on a smile for the family functions, and I try act like nothing's wrong so that everyone else has a good time, but its all a lie. Every part of me is screaming this is wrong. Its wrong that death exists. Its wrong that we are broken. Its wrong that grief and sorrow and pain are such a huge part of this life. Its wrong that Christ had to die to save us. I know I should feel joy that He did, but I can't. I know how much it hurts to lose a child and if I, who am sinful, hurt this much, how much more so would it hurt God to send His Only Son to die for a people that ruined creation with sin. I'm really struggling with myself right now, but there's a part of me that keeps reminding me "its taken like 2 years to feel normal after the losses, I just need to hold on for another year". This month marks the anniversary of 2 of our babies, the only two we ever got to hold and bury. When I