One or Two: What do I do?!

It happened. The moment I wanted no part of. The dreaded, awful and terrifying question had been asked. The one I had been trying to avoid. The one I've been playing my answer to over and over on repeat in my mind since this all began. The one I knew I had prepared myself for. It's the question I told myself I would stay strong while answering. The one I swore I would never look back and think twice about. It was a simple question. Six pure and simple words that when put together to form a sentence sent off a panic within me. It was as simple as...

"How many kids do y'all have?"

I know, I know, this seems so silly, but for a mom who just lost a child this is one of the most difficult questions to answer. This was my first "official" outing after losing my daughter and I was so sure I was ready and willing to answer anything that was thrown my way, anything, but this. I was with a group of amazing moms, many of whom knew my story and what I had just went through and who were extremely supportive during my time away. We had all just been chatting away while decorating my son's school for the upcoming week. I mean how many times had I asked this same exact six word question as a conversation starter? I watched how each mom answered this simple and pure question so effortlessly and without hesitation and then I realized it was my turn. I felt my heart racing faster and my mind spinning, the room literally felt like it was 100 degrees as all eyes turned towards me and I answered...

"I have one."

My heart immediately plummeted to the ground. It was the heaviest I had ever felt it since losing Harper and I don't think if I wanted to I could have picked it up at that moment to brush it off. I felt stuck, as if I couldn't move. I can't even begin to explain the emotions that succumbed to me immediately after answering that question. For a lack of better words I felt so ashamed of myself.

"Kate you've been practicing for so many weeks now how you would answer this.  Just say two and if they ask more questions than just say I have one on earth and one in heaven."

After a few minutes of feeling nothing but shame and guilt my subconscious was wanting me to yell out, "Excuse me! Can I change my answer please? I don't have one kid, I have two. Two beautiful children, you just physically can't see one, but she is here, right here, always and everyday!"

I bitterly just kept playing my answer over and over in my head for hours that day."One, I can't believe I said one." Why did I even have to question what my answer would be? Was I worried what the other moms would think if I said two? What do they think now that I said one?

This experience for me was incredibly eye opening and extremely life changing; it was a moment where I realized that I'm not perfect, this situation isn't perfect and I'm learning how to manage my emotions the best I can with what I have been given. I've learned that I don't need to be so hard on myself, that this isn't something you can prepare for and I've also learned how one simple question can have such an enormous impact on an individual. Just a few months ago I would have answered  the same question just like all the other moms: without hesitation, without fear and with a huge smile on my face. I know one day soon I will be able to answer in the same manner but I also know that there is a learning curve for me now and that it will take time and guess what? That is OK. My heart aches for my daughter and that is an ache that no answer or no person can ever take away. As Adam told me when I confronted him about this situation: "Kate, I don't think I'll always feel the need to tell someone my whole life story every time I'm asked that question. I know I have a daughter and nothing will ever change that, so don't be so hard on yourself."

His words are undeniably true. This past weekend we celebrated the LIFE of Harper. My daughter was physically here, in our presence, for three glorious days where even though she was kept sleeping, we could watch through monitors how much fight she had within her. Her heart did not want to give up and so neither will mine. My heart will beat stronger now because of my daughter. That is a gift I will cherish for the rest of my physical life. The heaviness I feel at times is because I ache for her; not because I am weak but because I remember. Because I will forever cherish those three days and the memories that came from them. Memories that will be engrained within me forever and memories that no one or no answer can ever take away from me. This new found strength is what makes me fight harder and in the end will make me that much stronger.

So if you want to know my answer, I have two children who both give me different perspectives in life and who both give me a reason to fight in very different ways. Two children, whom I love equally and whom I love with all of my being.  I may not always answer the same but I know that they have both in their own way helped me become who I am today, broken yet stronger. So with that, like I always do and always will for the rest of this unimaginable journey here on earth, I will pick up another broken piece that I've found on this path and place it delicately where it belongs so that I can keep moving forward and find the beauty in each and every day that I celebrate here.