It was a Thursday, we got to school early because Hackett was so excited for the Valentines party they were having that day. I was carrying a grocery bag with two half gallons of ice cream. Students were not allowed in their classrooms yet, so we walked up the hall to look at a bulletin board.  I felt a sudden whoosh, and fear set in.  Trying to remain calm I handed the ice cream to Hackett, told him to go wait by the principal, and sprinted to the bathroom.  I sat down on the tiniest of toilets, and my heart shattered when I saw all the blood.  I was only 16 weeks pregnant.  I walked down the hall shaking, and there was my panicked little guy, crying in fear, because I bolted so quickly.  I held it together for his sake, reassured him, mouthed to the principal what was happening.  Terror must have been on my face as two of my favorites gave me hugs as I called my doctor and Kevin.  As we waited in the ER room, I told Kevin, I'm done.  I can't bury more babies.  Two years ago today, the fight for Tobin's life began.  His heart was still beating, he looked safe, there was little explanation for what had occurred, but with my history it was necessary for me to do everything in my power to protect his precious life.  

My poor high school students were left abandoned and wondering what had happened to me, but the amazing staff swooped in to cover my classes that day.  That afternoon I met with my principal and the search for a long term substitute began.  

I fought for 21 weeks for Tobin's life - first from a chair, and then from a hospital bed.  Tonight I rocked him to sleep, after he danced on our bed for an hour, making the three of us belly laugh.  Two years ago I thought he died, but he LIVES.  Man does our Big T live, he is an enjoyer of life, bringer of joy, and giver of love. 

I started to write this a few weeks ago, and after searching for my Facebook post, I was unable to write more, and it has taken me a few weeks to gather my thoughts and emotions.

My birthday was last week, the big 3-6.  I struggle with birthdays. Not because I am worried about my age, or growing older, in most ways I embrace that part, happy with the wisdom that comes with it.  It's the celebrating life that is hard for me.  I love Facebook, I admit it, I do.  When I was across country from friends and family in California, it made the distance seem smaller.  Then I left my heart in California with so many dear friends, and it allows me to see their kids grow, their faces, their triumphs, and frustrations. After my short stent in teaching, it allows me to stay connected with some of "my kids", which is a such gift. When I lost Koen it instantly brought me comfort and a way to share our devastation with our friends and family.  

I posted this just before midnight on May 27, 2013 on Facebook:     
​On Monday, May 27th, at 8:55pm, Koen Wayne Soper was born. His sweet little heart had already stopped beating long before. He was 2lbs 13oz and 14 3/4 inches of perfection. We were able to snuggle and kiss him before the funeral home picked him up. He was beautiful, curly hair, long eyelashes, and a button nose, just like his big brother. We will love our precious tiny little muffin forever. Thankful that he is in the arms of Jesus.

Ever since May 27th the line between birthdays and death has become blurred.  I celebrate for my boys, for Kev, but I find it difficult to extend my joy of birth much beyond my immediate family.  I think with time, the band aids covering the wounds over my heart, will heal and turn to scars.  But for now, even two years and eight months after Koen's birth, and death, the wound is still raw.  Tears are still falling down my cheeks.  I still miss Koen.  I feel like I should be "better" by now, there is baby at my feet playing as I type and my life is filled with so much joy, but the sorrow remains.  I share this in hopes of helping others to understand how far reaching grief is.  Sometimes it just doesn't make sense, even to the person grieving.  You can't see it always on someone's face, or hear it in their laugh, but it may oddly impact areas of their lives that you can't understand.  I find it difficult to send birthday wishes and messages.  It isn't personal, it is my own struggle.  Now that I have shared, I won't have "Facebook birthday wishes" guilt anymore.  I love you, I'm thankful for your life, but its still to hard for me and maybe always will be.  

Thankfully, Tobin feels my pain, as the song Happy Birthday makes him cry.