As Matt struggled through his addiction, Jeremiah and I began our struggle with fertility. I often envisioned what it would be like to tell Matt that he was going to be an uncle. I went back and forth between excitement at the thought of calling him with that announcement, to fear that he would not get clean and that I would not be able to trust him with our children. I even sometimes irrationally thought that if I was able to tell him that he would have a niece or nephew, it might kick his ass into sobriety.
Matt lost his struggle with addiction, but Jeremiah and I had to continue on with our fertility journey. Some people said that they were sorry for me, what a terrible time to try to get pregnant while I was grieving my little brother. Those words were so discouraging. What else could I do but move forward? Should I stop trying to be mom, discontinue treatment, let go of my desire for a family until my broken heart was whole again? Would that day ever come? I had to continue on with hope for healing, and with a wish for beauty to return to my family.
Thankfully, I did have someone who had the right words. One of my closest and dearest friends, who is also my sister-in-law said to me one day, "Julia, this is a beautiful time to try to get pregnant. You are grieving, and raw, and real, and honest. You are handling grief in a healthy way. This is perfect time to try to be a mother, as grief is a natural part of life."
If we hadn't been having this conversation on the phone, I would have knocked her over with the intensity of my hug.
So we keep moving forward...
We got pregnant. For five whole days, I was expecting to become a mom. Then, we lost the pregnancy. I believe that pregnancy was a life that God started in my womb. I also believe that little and short life goes straight to Heaven.
Yesterday afternoon, about an hour after I found out that I was no longer pregnant, I had vision. I saw Matt in Heaven, and God placing a baby in his arms. I pictured him smiling, looking down at the baby and saying, "Is this my sis's? This is my sissy's baby?" I felt the joy of that moment, and for a few seconds it was a reprieve from my grief...grief over losing the baby, AND grief over missing my Matt. You see, Matt might know that I am sad, but he is not sad. He has a heavenly perspective, and sees God's reason and timing for the direction of our life.
I always knew that if Matt ever had the chance, he would be an amazing uncle. He would have loved a niece or nephew more than anything. I so wanted to place a baby in his arms, teach him how to change a diaper, let him lift our child up to the basketball net for a dunk, know that if he was babysitting that our kids ate junk and watched crap, let him teach his niece or nephew his best dance moves, and see my son or daughter light up when Uncle Matt came to visit.
It is has been very hard for me to grasp that those things will never happen. However, there is solace and a sweetness in picturing Jesus placing that baby in Matt's arms. It is not how I originally wanted it to be, but I am learning this year, that the way I picture my life and my future is so often not the plan that God has for me.
I am connected to Mattie today, more than I was a few weeks ago. Uncle Matt is watching that baby for me until the day that I get to meet my first little blessing.
So we keep moving forward...
I pray that I will be able to show this picture to the child God has for us and say,
"This is your Uncle Matt. He is hilarious, and fun, and wonderful and will show you the best way to shoot a free throw. You will love him, and he is waiting for you in Heaven."
