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Writing this I have to remind myself of three things- 

I have to accept it

This is not a tragedy

This is not my fault

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I'm starting to realize it's not just a baby that died, it's our goals, dreams and fantasies that died with it. In the 9 months I was pregnant, I was able to see the rest of my life change for one tiny human. I have the rest of my life to celebrate this baby’s life, but right now, I’m mourning his unexpected death. Sometimes grief is a tsunami, it comes at you at the most unexpected moment and before you have a chance to run, it will devour every part of you. The worst part is, there are not enough tears to take it away. There are not enough distractions to make you forget for those few seconds. This sadness reminds me I'm very much alive, as raw and powerful as it feels sometimes. 

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What happened to this baby was a tragic story, but this is not a tragedy. I want him to be celebrated. He made me a better woman and made Scott a better man, he brought together a community and brought out so much love and support in strangers, and there is no tragedy in that. I carried him for nine months, I gave him everything he needed. He taught me discipline, unconditional love, and a strength I never knew I carried until he was gone. 

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It was natural for me to believe it was my fault. I can ask myself questions for the rest of my life, but ultimately, it was not my fault. According the autopsy, blood vessel broke from the cord that was wrapped around his neck so tightly. We were told it was painless, swift and he didn't suffer. The midwife and OB say my birth plan was perfect and they didn't see any signs of distress, even as close as three days before. It was the ideal birth plan. What I didn’t account for God’s plan. I'm trying hard not to alienate readers who don't believe what I believe, but I have to say, as a parent, I can't imagine wanting my baby anywhere else than in the arms of Jesus. As much as I miss this baby and had fantasies of holding him and watching him grow, I wouldn't want him anywhere else than heaven. Jesus counts our tears and holds us closer. We don't feel angry or betrayed, we have this eerie peace about everything and we truly believe we are going to be okay as a family. 

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We came home with empty arms and broken hearts. Each day passes, I know people will move on. And that is okay. The flowers will dry up, the cards will stop coming, the texts will slow down, but I know Mordecai Max will not be forgotten. His absence left a hole in our hearts and the outpouring of love for him will never be forgotten either. Yeah, I ugly cry at every text, email, tweet, and comment. I may not be ready to reply to every one, but trust me, Scott and I are grateful. It's helped us move forward with our grief and remember him with joy and not sadness, and one day we'll get there. Thank you. xx