The dreaded question...

"I pray to You, O Lord, my rock. Do not turn a deaf ear to me. For if You are silent, I might as well give up and die. Listen to my prayer for mercy as I cry out to You for help, as I lift my hands toward Your holy sanctuary."

~ Psalm 28:1,2

Day 84: Field trip to the Marine Corp Museum with friends, and a picnic. Then a trip to the river as a family and dinner at McD's.

Yesterday at the end of my teenager's baseball practice, one of the moms arrived to pick up her son. She had her other children with her, all within relative ages of my own. This is a family that goes to AWANA at our church, so our kids know each other but she and I had never met.

And she asked me *that* question.

"How many children do you have?"

I answered, "I have 5 living children."

I didn't think there was a harder question, until she asked it.

She asked me how old my youngest is.

And I kind of choked. Part of me wanted to tell her about the sweet little boy I carried, birthed, and buried. But then I would shock her and have to comfort her, and I really didn't feel like getting into all that. So I simply left my Caleb out, and pointed to Sarah and said she is 2. Oh, the guilt that filled my soul! I feel as if I betrayed Caleb by not telling her about him.