I have sat in front of the computer to begin this post at least three dozen times in the last year. And each time, I have been unable to do it.

Even now as I sit at the computer, I wrote last night's post first and then attempted to begin this one yet again because it was so much easier to write about the crazy lady at Walmart than the one I need to write. The one that is always on my heart and in my throat.

But I need to get this one out. It is literally eating me alive inside. Sometimes so much so to the point that it paralyzes me at night when I am lying in bed.

I guess the quickest way to show you all where I'm at is to tell you what happened at the Discovery Center on Saturday.

I took the kids there to play in Tiny Town and it was fairly empty, really nice and quiet. We were having a great time and Sydney was playing with another little girl and I started chatting with her mom about hair products for the girls' curly hair. Really pleasant conversation. Then she asked me if we had just the three children, and I immediately replied, yes just the three. But, then something inside my just snapped or broke or gave way or something.

And I said, very quietly, no. That's not true. We have four. We just lost one of them.

And then I totally and completely just lost it. Right there in the middle of Tiny Town. Right in front of a complete stranger. She said she was sorry. We tried to pretend like I hadn't just lost it and she left soon thereafter.

Well, that's it. In a nutshell. I have four children. I have four children. But I only have three of them. And I am not okay with it.

I am happy and grateful and love each and every one of them dearly. I love Sydney. I love Jonathan. I love Brock. I love Braden.

But it seems like no one remembers Jonathan. I do. Oh, how I do.

God gave me a gift before Jonathan died that I treasure and cherish. He allowed me to meet Jonathan in a dream the night before I lost him. Some of you may remember the dream, some may not, I will retell it here anyway because it does my heart good to recount it every chance I get.

My husband and I were in an orphanage looking at the children. Across the room I saw a little boy I knew immediately to be our son. We went over to him and saw that he had three arms. I remember thinking to myself, it's a good thing I am learning how to sew so I can make clothes for him. I was so pleased I could meet my son's needs! I asked him how old he was and he held up seven fingers on two of his hands. We smiled at each other and God blessed me with experiencing the love of my son. I delighted in his presence. Then he held up his other hand and waved to me saying, "Goodbye, Mommy." My eyes filled with tears and I woke up. Tears were streaming down my face and I quickly awoke Tony to share this dream with him.

It was just minutes later that I began to miscarry.

And I still do treasure that dream, even now. But it has begun to be a bit of a double edged sword now. The very part of it that comforted me for so long- the smile, the wave, and the bye mommy- Jonathan's brothers have started to do that very thing two dozen times a day. And I see Jonathan's face and I hear his voice each and every time. And it hurts so very much. And I know, and hope, that one day this could be a good thing, a comforting thing, but right now, it is just painful because it is all I have had of Jonathan. And I have been clinging to it like a lifeline to him because he is my son and I don't want to let go of him. I can't. I have so many wonderful things to share with Brock and Braden and Sydney. So many, many wonderful things that I love to cherish and treasure about them. When I see them wave to me and say bye-bye mama, of course I love it, but it hurts because it brings back the only memory I have of Jonathan. The one that I have comforted my heart and soul with in the dark of night. And that I'll never have anything more than that with him this side of Heaven.

Tony said, maybe it's God's way of showing me Jonathan through his brothers. I think he's probably right, but it still hurts so very much. Because there is only one thing I really want.

I want another dream.

More than anything else in the whole wide world. I want another dream with Jonathan. Just one more dream. I lay in bed at night with a softball in my throat begging God, pleading with Him to grant me just one more minute, no five more minutes with my son. Please. Please. PLEASE. Just five more minutes. PLEASE I need to see him just one more time. I need to see his face-hear his voice. Just linger in his presence. It was magnificent. Just magnificent.

Does Walmart Really Need Door Greeters?

Had a little run-in with the door "greeter" at the Walmart today.

It did not end well for her.

When you have three children under the age of four, going to any store solo is always a monumental task. Today was no exception. A few stores, Walmart, Target, Sams, make it a little easier with a limited number of kid-friendly carts that allow an industrious and brave shopper with multiple children to place all of them in the same cart with seat belts instead of simply piling them all in the basket of the cart willy-nilly and hoping for the best.

Now when I say limited number, I mean limited number. Today was an exception. There happened to be an abundance of said carts in the cart line today much to my delight.

There was already one happy shopper piling her children into the first cart, so I carried my double-arm load of children (yes, I carry them both) to the second waiting cart. After much strap adjusting and balancing of children, we are finally ready to set off on our third banana run of the week (sixteen bananas since Thursday!!!). We began to pull out around the infant seat cart parked directly in front of us-when it started.

"Excuse me. You'll have to take this cart in the front of the line.

What?

There is now a new cart in the front of the line and you'll have to take it.

Ummmmmm. I don't think so.

Yes. You have to. Because it is the one in front and you can't take one in the back."

Okay, is this lady seriously deluded? She must be. I know she just watched me balance two screaming, squirming one- year old toddlers between both knees and arms and hands as I deftly buckled them in and adjusted the straps for the five minutes prior to her "proclamation" that I "must" move my children to the cart in the front because she, "the door greeter," said I had to? She had to be out of her mind! I was not about to take any guff from someone, who by the very definition of her job title, was supposed to greet me when I came to her place of work to spend obscene amounts of money (just ask my husband, he'll back that up).

"There is no way I am taking my children out of this cart and moving them to that cart. If you want me to change carts, you are going to have to move them yourself.

We're going to get a manager over here."

And with that, I simply drove around the other carts and her and went on about my shopping trip thinking, this is ridiculous. And I left it at that.

The "Door Nazi" had other ideas.

By the time I made it to my first stop, the cereal aisle, she had caught up with me. She stalked me through the Walmart. OVER A CART! She proceeded to tell me exactly why she was enforcing her ridiculous "rules" and why she wanted to make an example of me. I told her, look I am sorry for your problem, but I have two babies who need naps, one of which whose head you are squishing by getting in my face (she totally was and she didn't even notice that he was screaming-she did apologize) and I don't have time to be your example today because I just need to get a few things and put my babies down for their naps.

During this little exchange a department manager noticed the heated discussion and called a store manager over and then I had to explain to her what went down between me and the door "greeter." The greeter had already left by the time the manager arrived so I got to explain everything. She assured me that I could feel free to take any cart I liked and she would have a "talk" with said greeter. Poor Brock and Braden were so done by the time we left Walmart they were in complete meltdown mode.

I was afraid to go back through the exit because I didn't want to run into the door nazi again. Luckily, we passed through without incident because she wasn't anywhere to be seen. Now I am nervous about the next time we go to Walmart. Man, if only our Target had groceries...