Right now, with our second child developing in Lori’s womb, we are in the midst of thinking about the miracle of life. It is truly amazing how life gets created and we can’t wait to experience the joys that will surely come with parenthood. I find myself thinking all the time about what our baby will do in its life. What kind of kid will he/she be? (I think it’s a girl though.) What kind of student, friend, adult, the list goes on and on. Our baby’s life is just beginning and it excites both of us to think about raising this child together.

Recently though, Lori experience the other end of life. One of Lori’s cousins, that she was really close to, passed away last Monday evening. She was 43 years old. It really broke Lori’s heart to find out the news. Just this past Saturday, she came out of surgery with a clean cancer bill of health, which was the best news anyone could hear. Then on Sunday morning, she starting developing a fever. Her breathing, throughout the day, became labored and she was put on a ventilator to give her body a rest from having to struggle through breathing. Early that evening she passed away.

I was up in Detroit when this happened. Lori’s mom called my cell phone Monday night. I answered the phone and it was all she could do to say my name. She started crying and my heart sank to the floor. All I could think about was that Lori lost the baby, again while I was out of town for work. For a split second, I thought that there would be no way that I could handle another pregnancy loss, especially since it was so close to the time that we lost Logan.

Lori’s stepdad got on the phone and told me that Lori’s cousin just passed away. This almost didn’t seem to make sense. Just two days prior, she pretty much got a clean bill of health and now it was over? Instantly, I thought of Lori. I knew that she would have a hard time with this tragic news.

As I was talking to her stepdad, Lori called, so I clicked over to answer her call. She was hysterical. She could hardly talk and the way that she was crying sounded almost exactly like she did when she called to tell me that she lost Logan, last October. It was one of those deep, empty, heart-felt, sorrowful wails that just grabs at your heart.

I knew she would have a hard time with it. And once again, I felt completely helpless. How was I supposed to really help her when all I could do is offer words of encouragement over the phone? I just wanted to be there and hold her while she grieved the loss of someone that she cared about so much. As she cried, I began to worry about how much stress this type of event must be having on her body – and the baby’s.

The funeral was yesterday and prior to it, Lori told me that she thought that she would be able to handle it better than she initially thought because of how tragically she lost Logan in our bedroom almost a year ago. If she could make it through that, she could make it through anything.  And from what she told me, she was actually able to handle it fairly well. As good as could be expected, as they say. It sounds cliche, but it’s true. Sometimes, just getting by is all you can do.

She’ll be flying back to Austin tomorrow at 11:15am, from Louisiana. I’ll be heading up to the airport at that time, to travel back to Detroit, for my second consecutive week. We’ll hang out at the airport for a couple hours, which is better than not seeing her at all.

I know that this has been tough on her and me being out of town so much in the next couple months doesn’t make it easier. But, Lori is a strong woman. Both of us are. We have a strong relationship which helps things out tremendously. We’ll make it through this. And we’ll both be able to learn from things like this. We always do.