23 weeks.

My dearest LPG,

Hello, my little mover and shaker. I hope you are having a fantastic Monday, and enjoying the caffiene that your terrible mommy is filling you up with today. I didn't sleep very well last night, so I am tired today. But no matter.

LPG, this week is a very important, special and emotional week for your Mommy. I am going to explain why in the best ways that I can, but in a way, it's impossible. Some emotions, some feelings, they are too much for words. Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you cannot quite express what your heart feels. This week I am going to tell you about the two most precious and beautiful angels in all of heaven: K and M.

Here is a little backstory. As I have humbly explained in the past, your mother is not quite a social butterfly. In fact, I struggle with making friends. Part of it is anxiety, part of it is conciededness, part of it is who knows what. But either way, I struggle. In 2008, when we moved to HH, we struggled to fit in. We didn't feel a part of our school community (though we would in the future), we lived in an apartment we hated, and all in all, it wasn't the best year. It should have been, considering the fact that it was our first year of marriage. But alas, life doesn't always work out the way it seems it should. I had few friends, so I turned to the most reliable place to meet a ton of crazy people--the internet. Somehow, one day, I stumbled upon a silly little message board called "Babies on the Brain." As it seemed to fit me at the time, I started posting. And I started making friends.

(A quick disclaimer, LPG. The internet is full of both good and bad people, just like life. You cannot trust the people you meet immediately, just like life. But as you will come to find yourself, friends appear in the strangest of places. And I met a bunch of friends on this board, that would later become real-life friends. Some, I still know through a screen, but love and cherish as much as a friend I can see. But either way, these people became intertwined in who I was, and lifted me up when I was down, so I am eternally grateful for this silly message board).

One lady that I met, your Auntie Susan, among the many who I consider friends, lived nearby me at the time. She was pregnant, and beautiful, and very kind. We talked about meeting here and there, but never really got around to it. It was very unfortunate that our first meeting came not long after she gave birth to K, at 23 weeks, and she passed away. K was a beautiful little girl. Her beauty is imprinted in my mind forever. She lived a short time before becoming an angel, and even in her short lifespan, she touched many lives and filled us all with overwhelming love.

K's birth awakened a spirit in me that I had been struggling to find. Our message board united, and together, we worked to give Susan some token of our love for her and her baby. We raised a considerable amount, found and gave the most memorable gift we could, and I sent it to her. As a result, Susan and I became closer. She had moved slightly further away from our house by now, but we arranged to meet in October. Oh LPG, the beauty of meeting a friend who was destined for your life is indescribable. Things just click--everything feels right. Even in the wake of such a tragic loss, Susan and I felt comfortable and at ease with one another immediately. We spent hours talking about how beautiful K was, and getting to know one another better. From then forward, we became closer and closer, meeting more often, chatting almost daily, building a foundation for a limitless friendship. Although Susan had suffered what no one should ever have to, she was strong. She was an inspiration. Her spirit is unlike any other. And better yet, she understood Mommy. She just GOT her. This, in my world, is quite rare, so I knew that I should hold on as tightly as I could to this amazing woman.

One day, last April, Mommy and Daddy were grilling lobster for dinner. Susan called me 3 times, and I didn't answer, as I was arm deep in butter and tails. When I called back, she told me that she had gotten a positive pregnancy test. I screamed so loudly that Daddy ran in from the backyard, terrified that something dreadful had happened. FInally, after the heartache and strife that Susan went through, she was blessed and would be having another baby. All through her pregnancy with M, we were optimistic. THIS would be her baby, her healthy happy baby, who would be looked over at all times by his angel Big sister. When I think back to the joy I felt to watch M grow, learn he was a boy, watch Susan's tummy grow--it's almost too much to bear.

LPG, I must break here to say that sometimes, life sucks. I really can't say it in any other way. I don't like using the word "unfair" because we have never been guaranteed any sort of fairness or equity in life, and I know this. But sometimes, the things that happen, the tragedies that occur...they just suck. I'm sorry I can't put that in a happier way for you.

Last September, M was born too early. The doctors did their best to stop it from happening, and we had Susan prepared for a LONG stay in the hospital ensuring his safety. But that thing I said about sometimes, life sucks? Well, here we are. M was the most handsome little man I had ever seen. While I never held or met him or K in person, the pain I felt for their loss was unlike any other. I struggle to even find the words to express my sorrow, and current sadness, that they are not here with us, happy and playing, growing and thriving. What happened to your Auntie Susan DEFINES unfair, and whil eI believe we are not guaranteed fairness, the anger that builds within me when I think of her loss has no other suitable term. I loved M dearly, and loved K dearly, and desperately miss them both.

Both K and M were lost at 23 weeks, which is the root of my emotions for this week. I am not afraid. I understand the mutually exclusive aspect of life--I realize that what happened to someone else does not indiciate it happening to me. I am not anxious or nervous. But I cannot seem to find the words for the emotions I do feel. Intense sorrow and loss that this number has such painful connotations. Remorse and guilt that we are here, together, you and I LPG, but Susan and K and M are not. Disdain for a world that can perpetuate such awful circumstances on someone so wonderful and loving. Hopeful, that the grace of K and M live on through Susan, and through me, and through you one day, LPG. Eager to see the wonderful children that Susan WILL become a mother to, and shower them with the love and affection she will undoubtedly provide for you. There are so many emotions swishing around within me that it's hard to even focus on one for a moment and feel them let alone describe them.

In this very long post, there are a few things I want you to know, LPG.
1. K and M, while their time here was brief, changed the world. They have taught me more about life and love than many people could in an entire lifetime. Their presence in our lives is real, and tangible, and even though we can't see them, THEY ARE STILL HERE. They were here with us, and their love is our reality. I know without a doubt that you are on their list of people to keep an eye on.
2. Your Auntie Susan loves you so very much. She is one of the first people you will meet aside from me and Daddy, as she will be our doula in the delivery room, helping to ensure your happy birth. She is so excited to meet you.
3. Life can suck. It can be full of pain and loss and sorrow that is often unexplainable. People who TRY to explain it with stupid cliches like "it was part of God's plan" or "He doesn't give you more than you can handle" have no idea what they are talking about. We will address that in-depth later on. Life just sucks sometimes. Losing K and M sucks. Nothing can replace them and no words or anything ever will. It's really just that simple.
4. There will never be a day that I take your presence in my life for granted. I know how lucky and blessed we are to have you, and I hope you are aware of that every single day. I can't promise how long we will be together. But I can promise that you will always know how valued, loved, wanted and special you are.
5. The spirits of those we lose live on through us. It is our job to honor their memory. I will honor K and M by being the best possible mother to you, and by loving Auntie Susan with my whole heart. She will be ever-present in your lives, and part of our little circle of love forever.
6. Sometimes, in relation to that life sucking thing, bad things happen to the best people. As we will likely raise you to feel the same empathy that we do, this will break your heart into millions of pieces. It is painful and to put it simply, crappy. But what can you learn from it? You learn that these people are the BEST for a reason. Because they can find reason in madness, and turn dispair into hope. Your Auntie Susan will soon become a mommy to kids in desperate need. THey don't even know how lucky they are, but they're out there, being directed to her. Auntie Susan's unbeatable spirit is what we can learn from this.

This week isn't about pictures or updates or weight gained or stretch marks. LPG, this week is about you and K and M. The beautiful light that flows through us, that is living proof of our love and spirit, and a presence that will never end.
Susan, K, and M, we love you more than we could ever find the words to express.

"I've heard it said
That people come into our lives for a reason
Bringing something we must learn And we are led
To those who help us most to grow If we let them
And we help them in return
Well, I don't know if I believe that's true
But I know I'm who I am today
Because I knew you...
...
It well may be
That we will never meet again In this lifetime
So let me say before we part
So much of me Is made of what I learned from you
You'll be with me
Like a handprint on my heart
And now whatever way our stories end
I know you have re-written mine
By being my friend..."