I did not mention previously, that as I enjoyed my perfect day, my college roommate was saying goodbye to her sweet baby boy.
I came downstairs from my snuggles to a text about their loss.
And I cried and cried and cried. I have been crying about this for some time. Praying for a miracle. I truly believed there would be one. I once received a miracle with my baby and he was resilient.
The odds were against him from the beginning, and the struggle was long and hard...but everyone was hopeful. His sweet mother was pumping breast milk for him even this afternoon.
I think this fact hits me the hardest.
The hope of a mother.
Hope is the cruelest of virtues.
I won't go into this more because it is her story to tell.
But I will say that my heart is broken for her. There is nothing more painful to me than a broken-hearted mother. And father. I will continue to pray for some sort of peace....These sorts of things will never make sense to me and I struggle to see where peace will exist...but I read Rachel Kin'g blog and she gives me hope that it does lie somewhere within: