The arrival of their
``miracle'' baby boy is bittersweet for Tara and Heath Carey: He'll be born into
a heartbroken family clinging to a lost ``flower garden.''
Lexington, as the couple plan to name him, lost
his two older sisters, Violet, 5, and Iris, 4, in an apparent gas explosion last
July 24 that destroyed a Hopkinton apartment building and shattered the Carey
family.
``I'm very excited we're having another child,
but I feel bad and I feel guilty,'' Heath said from the porch of the couple's
Onset trailer, bordered by a garden of iris and a violet-adorned bird bath.
``When he grows up he's going to see the
pictures and ask about them and we're going to have to tell him,'' Heath said,
his head bowed.
Lexington almost never was. Heath, 27, had a
vasectomy after the birth of the couple's second daughter, Iris. It was reversed
in October, but the odds were against the couple, married five years.
Tara, 28, got pregnant three months later.
``His sperm cells were so low after the
operation the doctors can't believe she's pregnant,'' said Cindy Germain, Tara's
mother.
Lexington is due mid-October.
Ultrasound photos of Lexington are tacked to
the refrigerator next to a flier announcing what would have been Iris' fifth
birthday and an invitation to a candlelight vigil Thursday, the one-year
anniversary of the deadly blast - the cause of which remains a mystery.
Butterflies will be released at the sisters'
joint Milford grave Thursday morning after a private ceremony. A vigil is
planned for 7 p.m. where the building once stood at 65 Main St.
``We physically didn't die, but our life ended
that day. We're never going to be the same,'' said Tara.
A joint probe by the state fire marshal and
Department of Telecommunications and Energy has yet to determine the cause of
the explosion - originally blamed on a gas leak.
``We live every day looking for answers,''
Germain said, her voice wavering. ``I just want to know why my granddaughters
died.''
The Careys and their attorney blame the tragedy
on a faulty pipe fitting that corroded and cracked, releasing gas into the
building.
The milestones that never will be bother Tara
and Heath the most.
``Violet was complaining just weeks before (the
blast) of her teeth just starting to hurt. We know they would have lost teeth by
now,'' Tara said, rubbing her forearm where an ID bracelet tattoo reads,
``Violet. Love. Iris.''
Heath has the same mark, a replica of the
jewelry their daughters were wearing when buried together in one casket. The
couple also share matching tattoos of blue hearts between their thumb and
pointer finger on their right hands and an eternity symbol in the same place on
their left hands.
``I hope that they're OK where they are,'' Tara
said. ``I hope they're not missing us or upset. I just want them to be happy.''