The greatest blessings of my life.

From the moment word got out, our phones were exploding. This person calling, that person texting. They came flooding in. The support was insurmountable. The only person I actually talked to in the hospital was my mother, yet the love kept coming. Even during a time that I was not capable of responding, they kept coming. Each person declaring they were praying for us.

To all of you: THANK YOU SO MUCH

Especially after receiving no reciprocation from me.

Please know, you meant the world to me, at a time of despair.

I wanted to write about this in the same breath I wrote about Walt being born. But, I had a hard time wrapping my head around this subject, and felt so overwhelmed by all the love. I have waited until I thought I could do it justice; I wanted to make sure I could be articulate enough to explain the way our souls have wanted to celebrate this topic. Unfortunately, being doped up on drugs has proven to not be a good way to clear my brain waves, yet I don't want to stall any longer.

Bare with me.

I have always believed in personal prayer, and have had many personal experiences to testify the truth in prayer in my own life. However, I have never experienced the power of prayer from other people. . . I have heard people talk about how they could "feel" the power of prayer from other people. And I never understood that. I mean, actually "feel"? As in a tangible sense? What does that even mean?

I have felt the power of prayer.

The power of prayer is real.

And that has been one of the greatest blessings in my life.

We were seen by six ER staff members before our OB saw us. Each, doing an ultrasound, confirming how perfect and healthy our little one was. Look there's his perfect heart beating. And there is plenty of amniotic fluid. And gosh, how adorable is that baby! He was waving to say hello, rolling, turning, performing at his best. The "oooo's" and "aaaah's" were suffocating me; my husband in the corner, grinning from ear to ear. This was the first time he was seeing his son! He had been so certain that this was all a misunderstanding, and we would be heading home soon, with a sigh of relief.

I knew differently. I knew it. Everyone was waiting for our OB to do "the exam" (you know what I'm talking about) to verify all was fine, and figured showing us our baby in perfection, would cheer us up while we waited. Each acknowledgement from one doctor to the next, only made it harder to breath. I wanted to scream, "STOP TALKING ABOUT HIM! I know he is perfect. And I know he is going to die." Instead, I just closed my eyes, and let the tears come, while everyone else in the room seemed to be celebrating the perfection of our little one. It was tearing my heart in half.

Hours passed. Our doctor sat on my bed sobbing, confirming the final diagnosis of our situation. She turned off the ultrasound machine, where we watched our perfectly healthy ALIVE! son moments earlier. She hugged us both, and left us in our room to be alone. My defeated husband slowly crawled into bed with me and held me; I felt his body melt into mine as he wept for his child. The sorrow filled that room so thick, you could cut it with a knife.

And then, it was gone.

It was as tangible as someone wrapping you up in a warm blanket, fresh from the dryer. We both felt it instantly. I rolled over to face my best friend, and our conversation over the next couple hours was the most celestial conversation we have ever been a part of. Where the darkness seemed to fill our hearts, it was filled with hope, joy, gratitude; all for our son, we knew was celebrating his short life lived.

These experiences were duplicated over the rest of the week at the hospital. We would have moments where we thought we would drown from our own sorrow, and then be lifted up higher then thought possible. The prayers from others, have carried us through. It is as if we are not capable of falling into the pit of despair. Any time we have felt the harsh reality of it all, we are sweetly, and every so quickly filled to the brim with love, love, love.

I have felt the power of prayer.

The power of prayer is real.

And that has been one of the greatest blessings in my life.