A little boy, probably about 2 1/2, just stopped and stared at me as I sipped coffee in Panera.

“Twinkle, twinkle, Little star, How I wonder what you are… Bye!”

This happens a lot. Small children seem to pick me out of a crowd, then stop to smile or talk to me. Maybe it’s Lily’s way of sending messages to me. I often wonder what she would say to us if she had been here long enough to learn how to speak in full sentences.

I know that now, she has all the words. Every request she makes is granted. I just wish I could hear them.

It has been exactly three months since Lily left us. I have learned how to calm myself down without the assistance of others. That is the extent of my progress. Life without her has not gotten any easier. It doesn’t hurt any less. She still sends us signs that shock and amaze us. When I cry out and beg her to be with me, I feel her presence. She hasn’t forgotten us either, and that is comforting.

We have a little news on the baby front. My first quant on Monday was 100, which the nurse said was “excellent”. I didn’t want to read too much into it, since it was just a standalone number. My anxiety grew over the next 48 hours as I waited for today’s results. It needed to double, to 200, but instead, it was 300! That is a good sign. I am losing hope that all four decided to stick around, but I’m hopeful for a singleton (or, if we’re lucky, twins). I don’t want to be devastated if they don’t all show up on the first sono, so I guess this is my way of preparing for that. We’ve lost so many babies that the objective is simply survival, rather than hoping for multiples. I go back to my doctor on Monday (5w0d) for a sono and another blood test. We might see a gestational sac(s) by then, but it’s too early for anything else. It’s nerve-wracking, but we’re one step closer. If all goes well, they will release me to my regular OB at 8 weeks (3.5 weeks from now). That will be a huge milestone!

This seems like a good day to make an announcement:

That was my first ever digital test (I’m either very frugal or very old). I have been testing obsessively for days, as predicted, to watch the lines darken. Tomorrow, I will have my first quant. If my number keeps doubling every two days, we will have the first ultrasound in about two weeks. That feels like such a long time. We will also find out how many babies we will have!

I didn’t demand any special presents this year (seriously, I think the aforementioned is more than enough). Micah found a cake in my favorite colors, though. I definitely won’t pass that up.

Molly and Mia also made gifts for me at school:

We are headed to the cemetery to visit with Lily. I am trying so hard to be strong for her today, but I can’t stop thinking about her.

I hope all of you have a wonderful Mother’s Day!

They say when life gives you lemons, make lemonade. When death takes your child and turns your life upside down, you’re on your own – with nothing. One of the things that gets me out of bed every morning is my determination to give my kids the most normal childhood possible; one that is not marred entirely by the loss of their sister. I want to help them keep her memory alive without filling them with sadness. Today, we finally had a picnic at the cemetery. We had been talking about it for a while. We had many picnics with Lily while she was with us, so it was very comforting.

A truck pulled up to the corner of the pond, and a man stood for a few minutes. He started down the path, and stopped when he reached us. He expressed his sympathies for Lily’s loss at such a young age, adding that his own daughter had passed away at 28. He shared a few stories of signs she had given him, and I said how amazing it is that our children do so much to let us know that they are okay. He looked so lost. He said goodbye and kept walking. I grabbed a pen and jotted down information about our local TCF chapter. I also mentioned the walk. Alright, that was a bit much. Mia ran to hand the note to him as we were leaving. He seemed to appreciate it, and I hope he decides to go to the next meeting. It would mean so much to me if I can help another grieving parent in some small way.

I spent the afternoon in the back yard, letting Barney run laps while the kids played on the swing set. I hooked up the grill for the first time this year, and had it going in time for dinner. We made s’mores for dessert.

Everyone was having so much fun that I decided to surprise them with their first campout (many thanks to my parents for the tent)! I had waited 32 years to go camping, and the back yard seemed to be a good place to have a trial run. The problem was that I had no idea how to put the tent together. Micah got home from work, and had it set up within a few minutes. I was so proud of him!

Everyone settled in, including Barney (who was a bit claustrophobic at first). I can look out the screened window at Lily’s tree, and watch the solar butterfly change colors. She is with us, and I know it is making her happy to see her sisters and brother have so much fun. If only they didn’t demand so many amenities…

I have spent the last two and a half months figuring out how to answer those who ask, “How many children do you have?” I decided that I would say I had three at home, and one in heaven. It was simple enough – until someone actually asked the question today.

I had just arrived for a cleaning at the dentist’s office, and the hygienist asked if I was still breastfeeding. I quietly answered, “No,” and held back a heavy sigh. As she held up a shiny mirror and scaler, the question was upon me. Anxious to get out of there, I gave my answer. I failed. I didn’t even mention Lily. The thought of having to explain it all, fighting back tears while my teeth were getting scraped, was too much. I wanted to avoid the awkward 30 minutes that would follow. I knew I would get too upset, but there was no excuse. I felt horrible.

The rest of the day was difficult. I was distracted and emotional; so emotional, in fact, that I didn’t notice when my engagement ring slipped right off my finger. I noticed as I was typing an email, and about 10 minutes of panic followed. I cried like a 5 year old, then realized how ridiculous I was acting. It is such a special, beautiful ring. I love it for many reasons, but it’s still just a ring. It could be found or replaced, unlike Lily. Hours passed, and I had accepted that we probably would never find it. I went to the cemetery, where I got a phone call from Micah.

“Ha! I found it! I went through all of the drawers where you put away laundry, and the ring was in Will’s drawer.”

I knew that if anyone could find that ring, it was Micah. It wasn’t the first time he had come to my rescue. He once took apart our clothes dryer to find the center stone when it fell out of its setting. I’m a lucky woman (especially because there is no way we could have bought a replacement anytime soon)!

We settled down for dinner, and I made a quick email check. I had a message from the hygienist. I had dropped off a sponsor letter, and she read it after I left. She and her family will be participating in the walk, and her office may become one of our sponsors. I had acknowledged Lily after all, even though it wasn’t the way I intended.

I know that I will be prepared to answer the next time someone asks about my children. Lily knows how much I love her. I tell her every day that she will always be my daughter; my beautiful baby. She knows. I just want to make sure that others know it, too.

I’ve been just a bit obsessed with this song lately. It’s on a playlist that I listen to when I sit in Lily’s room, and it’s very uplifting.

I called for some more information about our embryos, since I didn’t get specifics on transfer day. It’s sort of like their first report card, and I am proud of their grades!

#1 = 3AA
#2 = 4AB
#3 = 3AB
#4 = 2BB

The number represents how much a blastocyst has “expanded” (the higher the number, the further it has progressed). The first letter grades the inner cell mass (the baby). The second letter grades the trophectoderm (the placenta).

I am a bit worried about #4. The embryologist said that it is still “good”, just a bit earlier in development. She said that our overall outlook is “awesome”, which warrants a smile even from the defeatist.

Our remaining 5 embryos did not survive, so they could not be frozen. I am upset about that, but at least we know that none were destroyed during this entire process. That was our primary concern; to have respect for life and leave the outcome in God’s hands. Now, we wait until I can test. I am 3DP5DT now, and I may break down and start testing on Friday. We’ll see. Anyone who has followed our decade-long TTC journey knows that I have no willpower during a 2WW.

I realize that my blog posts are very erratic lately, but as I tell everyone, my life is polarized right now. I am desperately reaching for some hope for our family’s future while mourning the one that was taken from us. Emotions and stakes are high, and we want this to be a turning point.