Another loss

I have spoke often of my MoMfia. My group of multiple moms. Our group is about 150. 100 really active in the group I would say. Today, May 21st was supposed to be a day of celebration. We were going to be celebrating the 1 year anniversary of the creation of the chat board that brought us so close. The Bump is actually where it all started. On their multiples board. But this private board that spun off from there is where we all call home now.

We're family.

With 100+ women, we don't always get along, like each other, or agree. But one thing is for certain, when push comes to shove, we are family and we rally around each other. Today, was supposed to be a day of celebrating that family. Instead, we are a grief stricken family in mourning.

Yesterday, a member of our family lost her 20 month old son, JW. JW was born at 27 weeks due to loss of amniotic fluid, which severely compromised his lung development. He was on oxygen since birth, but otherwise, a very happy normal child. JW caught a cold and it progressed. He did not recover. We are all devastated. Devastated for the loss of this beautiful child. Devastated for his mother and father and two sisters.

And... my family is reminded of those we've lost before. Not that we don't think of them always, but on days like this, those memories wash over you like high tide slapping you in the face. JW is the 5th child lost in 15 months in this group of 100 women.

I've been trying to make some sense of this all day and I really can't. I know people say everything happens for a reason, but over the last couple years, I have come to think those words are horse shit. Really? There is a reason JW is no longer with us? There is a reason children die at the hand of child abusers and of cancer or other terrible diseases? No.. I cannot see a reason for that. The only conclusion I come up with is that sometimes life really sucks. It's horrible and tragic. And it's just not fair. How do you go on? I truly hope I never have to find out, because knowing and caring about the people who are forced to figure that out is almost more than I can take.

So for tonight, I will count my blessings. Hug my boys tighter, love them longer, look into their eyes one more time. And I will never complain when they wake up in the middle of the night, are sick with a cold, or have pooped through another outfit. At least I am lucky enough to have perspective. And to be able to hug them whenever I want.