Meg

You know how you just connect with some people? Sometimes it's a commonality that brings you together: you happened to sit by each other on the first day of class, you work at the same totally awesome summer job, you both have that same striped shirt, etc.



Then you start growing up, and the commonalities become more of a variety, where you may not actually pick your friends, it just--- happens. Your husbands grew up together since practically birth, your offspring were born in the same decade, you both happen to fall into a church group called "14th", etc.



Either way, sometimes things just click. Usually in a way you never expected: from an off colored comment you both happened to chuckle at, from the saving-grace advice shot across the world wide web, to your kid screaming "mine" at theirs from across the room. Whatever it is, from that point in time, it's like you are wearing invisible "BEST FRIENDS FOREVER" bracelets.



I'm one of those weird people, that if you are my friend, I think we are best friends. You may not think so, but basically, if I have your number in my phone, if I have ever text messaged you, called you (that's a big one!) , it's legit. Best. Friends. For. Life. I'm hard to get rid of.

And I want to write about those people.

I have a very dear friend. If I had to draw up a list of My Best Friends, she would be on there. To be quite honest we went a long time knowing each other, without ever hanging out, giving high fives, or heading to the beach together--- all very serious B.F.F.'s indications. Somewhere between the chaotic world of infertility and birthing our first born sons, we crossed over into the world of no return while swapping stories about anti-sleep-campaigns our kids were running.



Today as I read her news about her sweet little Clayton, my heart broke into a million pieces. I was holding my own little Hugh, and just rocked him back and forth. I remembered what a real miracle he still is. It's easy to forget. Chris walked into the room, and I just burst. Through the sobs I managed to say, "Meg had her baby... at 21 weeks... Meg lost her baby..." Chris knew what that meant to me, and just held me as I sobbed on his shoulder.

Because she is one of those people to me.

So, today, I just wanted to take a break out of my own blog slump, and let her know mow much I really do love her, and her TWO precious little boys. When someone goes through something you have never experienced, it's hard to know what to say or do, because if you really love them, you just want to "make it right". In my own heart break, I've learned sometimes things just can't be made right; but it feels good knowing other people are out there, that your pain is not going unnoticed.

My heart is breaking for you.

I know we will still play together in a back yard full of little boys.

And we will drink our lemonade.