As the day of Ryan's birthday gets closer, I have been thinking a lot about the past year and a half. I have been cherishing the memories of my moments with my son. I have been remembering those who have walked through the journey beside me and my family. In light of that, I wanted to share something that I read posted by another BLM ~


Just Because time has passed

doesn't mean that all is fine.

My sadness, and my grief

Hasn’t diminished with time.


... Just Because I am smiling

doesn't mean that I'm not down.

I cry for my little baby

when no one is around.


You ask me how I'm feeling,

but do you really want to know?

The moment I try telling you

You say you have to go


How can I tell you,

what it's been like for me

I am haunted, I am broken

By things that you don't see


You ask me how I'm holding up,

but do you really care?

The second I try to speak my heart;

You start squirming in your chair.


Everyone avoids me now,

because they don't know what to say

They tell me I'll be there for you,

then turn and walk away.


Call me if you need me,

that's what everybody said,

But how can I call you and scream

into the phone,

My God, my child is dead?


No one will let me

say the words that I need to say

Why does a mother's grief

scare everyone away?


I am tired of pretending

as my heart pounds in my chest,

I say things to make you comfortable,

but my soul finds no rest.


How can I tell you things

that are too sad to be told,

of the helplessness of holding a child

who in your arms grows cold?


You cannot imagine

what it was like for me that day

to place a final kiss upon that cheek,

and have to turn and walk away.


If you really love me,

and I believe you do,

if you really want to help me,

here is what I need from you.


Sit down beside me,

reach out and take my hand,

Say "My friend, I've come to listen,

I want to understand."


Just hold my hand and listen

that's all you need to do,

And if by chance I shed a tear,

it's all right if you do to.


I swear that I'll remember

till the day I'm very old,

the friend who sat and held my hand

and let me bare my soul.



I hope one day, no mom will ever know the pain of burying her child. I hope that one day, no mom will have to wonder what color her child's eyes were or only imagine the sound of her child's cry. But until that time, if you know a mom who has experienced the immeasurable grief of living without their child, here is my advice. Call their child by name, invite them to tell you about their child, remember their child with them. Don't be scared by their tears, what happened to them is not contagious. If it makes you feel awkard just try to imagine the hurt of not feeling comfortable talking about your child, because of being worried about making people uncomfortable or sad. My son may have only lived for two hours, but I am still a proud mother and I still want to say his name and tell you about him. When you ask me how many children I have, I will tell you that I have one living child, and by your response I will know if it is okay to tell you about my other wonderful and much loved child. Just remember, these children are gone to soon, but they will live forever in the hearts of those who love them.

One year

In 9 days it will be my son's first birthday. There will be no large gathering of friends and family at our house with a little one toddling around the room. Instead there will be a group of three with a cake and a few balloons visiting a cemetery. It seems like the closer we get to Ryan's birthday, the more Sean talks about his little brother. Today walking through a store, Sean saw some baby clothes and said that we should get some for Ryan, we could send them to Heaven. He mentions that he misses Ryan and that he wishes he could come back because there are things he needs to teach him. My heart just breaks.

It seems like the closer we get to one year, the more my heart aches. The tears are back. The anger is back. The hurt and sadness are right back at the surface. I feel like I am right back to the fresh emotions that I was experiencing when we got Ryan's diagnosis and when he was born. I don't think I was prepared for these emotions, but then again how do you prepare for any of this. I miss my son more than I could ever explain.



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D day

Where has a year gone? A year ago, I was still an innocent mom. A mom who thought every thing would be okay because I made it through the first trimester. Excited to find out if I would have another son or a daughter, but oblivious to what could be discovered. Diagnosis day was devastating, heart wrenching, traumatic and numbing. And it still feels like yesterday.

The anniversary of the day we were told of Ryan's diagnosis is bringing an overwhelming flood of emotions that I was not expecting. The memories of that day, the moments, the words, they haunt me. I remember joyfully sharing my sonogram pictures, leaving voicemails for my husband with boys names that I liked, and then getting a voicemail from my doctor asking for me to call her on her cell and my life changed forever.

The moments during that phone call, the empathy in my doctor's voice, the words she said. I remember sitting there writing words down as she said them. As I wrote the word "fatal" my heart shattered. I remember calling my coworker, and struggling to say the words. How do you explain that the child you are carrying will die? Then how do you call your husband at work and tell him that his son will die? That moment, having to tell my husband, my best friend, the father of my child, there are not words to describe that moment.

I don't think I was prepared for this wave of memories and emotions. I guess I had myself fooled, thinking I had locked everything away in a safe place. The problem is that my heart is still shattered and anything that I lock in there can still leak out.

Ryan, there is not an hour that goes by that I don't think of you, miss you, wonder how different our lives would be if you were here with us. I love you.




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Nine months

Dear Ryan,
Tomorrow you will be 9 months old and it aches in my heart that you are not growing up in my arms. I may not write as much anymore or talk about you as much, but I can promise that I still love, think of you all the time and ache to have you here with us. I am looking at a family picture right now from when you big brother was right around nine months and I wonder if you would look like him. Would you have the same fine hair or the same blue eyes? You had his mouth, that perfect sweet mouth. How I wish I could hold you right now, hug you tight, whisper in your ear that "mommy loves you". I wish I could watch you sleep tonight. But enough wishing, my wishes came true while I held you in my arms, no amount of time would have ever been enough. May you continue to watch over us from heaven and feel our love radiating to you.
Love,
Mommy


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The Redeemer

So, my four year old has a new favorite song. He wants to listen to it every morning and every afternoon (and would listen to it more, if I would let him). He sits in the back seat of my car and sings along to all of the words. Everyday, I listen to the words and realize how through his favorite song, I am receiving a daily message to guide me through my journey.


The Redeemer
~Sanctus Real

Sometimes I just want to start over, 'cause everything looks like a wreck
And I need the courage to carry on, 'cause I can't see what's ahead
And there are places I've wished I could be, battles I've wanted to win
Dreams that have slipped through my hands
I may never get back again

But I'm still a dreamer, a believer
Oh, I've lost my faith in so many things, but I still believe in You
'Cause You can make anything new

Sometimes I just wish we could say all the things that are easy to hear
Ignore the injustice we see and explain every unanswered prayer
But I'd rather speak honestly and wear a tattered heart on my sleeve
'Cause in the middle of my broken dreams, redemption is here

And I'm still a dreamer, a believer
Oh, I've lost my faith in so many things, but I still believe in You
'Cause You are the answer, the redeemer
Oh, I've given up on too many things, but I'm not giving up on You
'Cause You can make anything new

I don't have every answer in life
But I'm trusting You one day at a time
'Cause You can make a weak heart stay alive forever
this is where Heaven and Earth collide
I lift my hands and give my life
This is how my weary heart stays alive

Oh, I'm still a dreamer (This is where Heaven and Earth collide)
(I lift my hands and give my life)
Still a believer (This is how my weary heart stays alive)
Oh, You are the answer (Oh, this is where Heaven and Earth collide)
(I lift my voice and give my life)
The redeemer (This is how my weary heart stays alive, oh)

'Cause You can make anything new
Yeah, You can make anything new

Storytelling

I haven't written much lately and I am really behind on the blogs I follow, but I find myself relaxing and getting a pedicure on a beautiful Saturday. Since it feels a little self indulgent to be pampering myself in the middle of the day, instead of being at home, I thought I would multitask to feel productive.

Probably about two months ago (maybe more, time doesn't always seem relative anymore!), I received a letter in the mail from the fetal and infant mortality board for the county where I live. When I first saw the letter, I was confused. I had some moments of panic thinking that they thought I did something to cause my son to die. The letter didn't say anything to that affect, but all I had to see was the words mortality review board and my imagination took off! I read the letter and put it aside, fully intending to follow-up in my own time (which probably meant never!). Several weeks letter when I had put the letter put of my mind, I received a call from a nurse with the review board asking to schedule a home visit to interview myself and my husband. Without being sure what to say, I just told her I needed to talk it over with my husband. My husband decided he was not comfortable with the request, which I truly understood. I decided, though, that I wanted the chance to talk about Ryan. When I was pregnant I had decided I would tell Ryan's story at any opportunity I was given and this was an opportunity. I did ask to not have the meeting at home and instead made arrangements to meet at a Starbucks (a delicious drink couldn't hurt!). So, on a Thursday afternoon, I took off early from work and was interviewed by a nurse from a mortality review board.

The meeting lasted two hours and we talked about everything from my previous pregnancy, my pregnancy with Ryan, learning of his diagnosis, Ryan's birth and death, and the time since his death. If a topic could be discussed it was. I was able to share all the positive aspects of my pregnancy and ideas of what could have brought more comfort knowing I was continuing a pregnancy when my child would not leave the hospital with me. For me, it was a wonderful opportunity to talk about Ryan! It was also a chance where I might be able to use my experience to benefit another mom who finds herself in this journey. At this time it was also explained me why they do these interviews. In the county where I live, the review board meets once a month and reviews all cases of fetal and infant death. They obtain data from medical records and when able from family interviews, with the hopes of identifying anything that can help reduce these situations. Apparently the infant mortality rate in the county where I live is higher than the national average. They also use the information gathered to make others aware of available resources and to ensure the moms and families are receiving these services. The board is comprised of doctors, nurses, social workers and others who have a chance to have a positive impact on BLMs.

I found out that just this past week Ryan's case was presented. Now, when they present the cases, all identifying information is reviewed, but I have a coworker who attends the meeting and she knew it was Ryan's story (helps when your child has a rare diagnosis). It was nice to be able to hear from her that his story was presented in a way that I would have been proud of and that it touched the members of the board. It feels good to know that his story continues, it did not end with his last breath.


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This is the stuff...8 months

8 months of empty arms.

8 months of hidden tears.

8 months of unanswered questions.

8 months of guilt, sadness, frustration, anger.

It has been 8 months, and some days I feel as empty in my gut as my arms are empty, aching.

I came across a song today "This is the Stuff" by Francesca Battistelli

This is the stuff that drives me crazy
This is the stuff that's getting to me lately
In the middle of my little mess
I forget how big I'm blessed

This is my plan, to do what I can to focus on my blessings. To not just remember Ryan in sadness, but to remember the blessing of holding him in this live with the promise of the next.

This is the stuff that gets under my skin
But I've gotta trust You know exactly what You're doing
It might not be what I would choose
But this is the stuff you use

I haven't been writing too much lately. My mind just feels kind of empty, or maybe just full of thoughts that run through but don't stay long, so this may bit a bit of a rambling post.

Right now I am hanging out with my little man who is slightly under the weather. He keeps running low grade temps and then spiking a fever once or twice a day. We already have an appointment for him to see the pediatrician tomorrow, because I got a call from his daycare Friday that he was messing with his ears. For those who don't know, Sean has had ear infections since he was 3 months old. In fact by the time be was 10 months, he had 11 infections! At that point, he had ear tubes placed and while it took time we definitely noticed an improvement. We even got to experience a 6 month period of no doctor's appointments!!! Just about two months ago, Sean had a nasty ear infection (the drainage made my stomach turn!), but a good course of antibiotic ear drops and oral antibiotics and life was good again. Lately though, he has complained that when he yawns, he doesn't hear the same. Now add on the occasional fever and ear pain, and I am afraid there may be another ear infection! Of course, my mind doesn't stop there. My worrying mind seems to get carried away more now after loading Ryan. I just have a fear that someone else I love is going to get snatched away from me.

Every day is a balance of trying to live for the day while remembering the past and hoping for the future. I wish I could say I have found a good balance...I normally function by compartmentalizing. I put thoughts of Ryan and memories of him in a little pocket of my brain, tucked away for me to peek at when I am all alone. I am almost ashamed to admit a conversation from last week. I was at work and someone who works for another facility was up on the floor I work on and needless to say, this is not my favorite person. Nothing personal against him, but not someone I am comfortable around or who has come off as genuine in previous encounters. I normally manage to avoid him, but no such luck this day. Well, he came up to talk to me and proceeded to comment that I was pregnant the last time he saw me and I must have had my baby. I just looked at him and replied "my son died from a fatal genetic disorder". It worked, conversation over. So there you go, my lowest of lows. I used my son's death to get out of the conversation, now to my credit, I didn't bring up the topic.

Sorry, not a whole lot of positive thoughts going through my mind right now.

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Happy list

One big thing on my happy list -

A change in my work assignment! I had covered the same floors at the hospital I work at for 6.5 years and it was definitely time for a change. My new floors have a different pace, allowing for less stress, and a totally different opportunity. For the first time in a long time, I left work on time (or close to) almost everyday and I did not have a headache all week! I can't explain the difference more than that and that I had a coworker that commented that she hadn't seen me smile that much at work in a long time. I am hopeful that this change will allow me to tap into my grief to be a better social worker and that it will also allow me to be a better mom at home. My shoulders still feel tight, but hopefully in time, they will loosen up as well! I am grateful for my wonderful coworkers and my manager that recognized and understood my need for a change!

It is also nice to see the sun out this week!

Hoping and praying that all BLMs have a peaceful Mother's Day!


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Mother's Day

How can one day bring such joy and yet be a day of such heartache. Mother's Day has never been a big holiday in my family. Not that my mother was not deserving, she definitely was, but we just weren't a big holiday family. All holidays were celebrated in simplicity from Christmas to birthdays and everything in between!

But this year, when my grief feels so fresh (how can it have been 7 months!), the thoughts of Mother's day just bring about an ache. I love my 4 year old and look forward to hanging out with him! He is such a blessing to us, even on the days that I wonder if we will all survive to his next birthday! But the thing is, I love his baby brother, too! So while Sean can make laugh with his crazy antics and make my heart melt with his sweet songs, there is a part of my heart that still feels torn apart and I am not sure how to reconcile the pieces! This is the first holiday that keeps catching me off guard. I think I was still in shock, just still taking in everything that happened during the big holiday season (Thanksgiving, Christmas, etc) and it was easy to just wrapped in Sean's excitement. But this holiday, it's about being a mother. There is no talk of turkeys, no talk of reindeers and Santa, just mothers and children. Mothers and children...oh, my heart.

I honestly don't know what the day will bring, I am sure there will be some tears, but I am hopeful there will be smiles, laughter and joy. For I am joyful to be the mom of two beautiful boys!

To all moms, happy Mother's day, may it be a day of peace, joy, some moments of remembrance, and hope.



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Happy List Saturday

I missed last week, but I am excited to join back in with Happy List Saturday today!

Date night with my husband!!! Actually got to have two date nights in the span of 4 days!!!


Yea for giveaways!!! I was very excited to receive this book from Raquel at Life After Jeremiah! Now to make some reading time!

Just found this at the store today and couldn't pass it up! It it kind of hard to read but it says "Life takes us to unexpected places. Love brings us back home."


Received this from a special friend as an early mother's day present. Absolutely love it!


Sean drew this picture this week at school! Since it is hard to decipher a four year old's drawing, I will help! Starting in the upper right hand corner is the sun. Then in the middle of the top of the paper is God (brown) holding Ryan (blue) ~ can you see a mother's tears when receiving this! The zig zags are the clouds and on the bottom is Daddy (green), Lucy ~ dog (red), Mommy (purple) and Sean (orange). Best family picture ever! And, no I am not biased :)

Hope everyone has a wonderful week. Thinking off all the other mothers parenting a child in Heaven on International Babylost Mothers Day (May 1st).

Hurts

Warning, this is not a happy post. This is not a feel good post. This is a mom who is overwhelming frustrated with herself. This is a mom who is letting the tears flow. This is a mom whose heart aches and normally only shares part of the hurt, who is scared to admit to everything, scared to face all the thoughts that run through my head.

I have said that I don't regret anything about my decision to carry ryan in spite of the terminal diagnosis. But what I don't talk about are the regrets I do have. I don't like to talk about them because I want to feel like I truly treasured every moment of my time with Ryan. But they are there, no matter how much I try to ignore them. So now, I am giving myself over to them with the hope that if I write about them, it will release them.

I regret that I was upset that Ryan's due date was at Thanksgiving. At the time, I was feeling selfish and did not want to miss spending my favorite holiday with my family. Turns out I got to spend it with my family and now I am so angry with myself for having those thoughts! How could I have ever felt that way!

I regret not talking to Ryan more during the pregnancy. I have never been one of those moms to talk to my child while they are in my belly, but why didn't I do it when I knew it was the only time I had! Why didn't I tell him the stories of his mom and dad? Why didn't I tell him about his big brother? Why didn't I tell him about all the places we took him? Why did his big brother talk to him and tell him stories more than his mommy?

I regret not taking more pictures when I was pregnant and had Ryan with me! I only have two pictures! It is like my time with him is missing!

I am struggling with functioning as a mom. I disappoint and frustrate myself every day. We are going through a very trying phase with Sean right now and every day I struggle to just figure out how to be an effective parent, how to be a loving mom, how to set boundaries but allow choices so that my son grows up as a compassionate, loving, independent individual. Yes, I know that he is 4 and I am doing the best I can. Just right now, it's not good enough. I want to blame it on something - stress at work, grief, being tired - but none of that makes my heart feel better.

There it is, all out there, maybe now my heart can start to heal.

Easter

It is hard to imagine that last Easter, I was blissfully unaware of what life had in store for me. I was excited to be pregnant and enjoying imagining the future of my family. It wasn't all blissful innocence, though. I remember after the Good Friday service, talking to my pastor, and telling him about the pregnancy. At the time I was being worked up for some autoimmunine disorders (which all came back fine) and had some fears/concerns about how that could impact my pregnancy. I truly had no idea that Ryan's life was already destined to be brief.

Lately, being at church, has truly stirred some struggles in my soul. I am back to crying every service so now I prepare ahead of time with the waterproof mascara to try to keep my tears secret. It used to be the songs that would evoke the tears, but now it is the silence, the moments of talking to God. In those moments, I can barely form thoughts, much less any meaningul sentences. Instead words will simply run through my head and tears will roll down my face. See, I want to say that I rejoice for my son, that I am so glad that he is in his enternal home, but I still struggle with wanting him here, in my arms. I want to understand the purpose of his life and the purpose of this trial for my family.

Last Sunday, during the sermon there was discussion about being dissapointed in God. That is a dangerous topic for me. I admit it, I am disappointed. I am ashamed to even admit it, but I am. There is no explaination, it is just simply that. It still hurts, the grief is still ever present, I just don't talk about it, except here. Throughout this journey, I have continued to go to church, even in my anger and disappointment, simply because of faith. Faith and hope in the Easter story. Today it was said that because of the resurrection, "death is not death". Because our God sacrificed his son, I can live in hope of holding my son in my arms again. Without that hope, I don't know that I could do this. I know I may never know the "why" for Ryan's story, but I continue to hope that one day I will feel at peace. I trust in a God who can understand my suffering, who sent his own son to suffer, for me, for my family, for my children.

"Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me. My Father's house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you?" John 14:1-2

Names

I am joining up with Rachel at A Lasting Footprint for the What's in a Name Blog hop.

Both of my sons' names were chosen during pregnancy. We never made a list and I can't even remember what other names made the list for either of our boys!



Sean Michael
My husband came up with the name Sean just out of nowhere and it just felt right! Of course, at the time he did not share with me that he came up with the name from Sean Connery!!!! After we ha decided on the name Sean, I looked up the meaning and it just fit - God is gracious. What a perfect name from our gift. We were so blessed by Sean.

Sean's middle name, Micheal, he shares with his daddy (also his middle name). I actually just looked up the meaning of Michael (hadn't before because, he was just carrying on his daddy's name) and it means - like God/gift from God. Sean is definitely a gift from a gracious God.



Ryan James
We had not picked out or even discussed names during the early part of my pregnancy with Ryan. We were holding off on the discussion until we knew if we were having a boy or girl. Then we got hit by the bombshell of a fatal diagnosis on the same day we learned we were going to have another son. The day after we received this news, my husband and I were out trying to be "normal" and eating lunch at the cheesecake factory (I like to try to cope with good food). Sitting at that table, I told my husband that I needed to name my son. Within minutes we knew his name. Please don't think that we came up with a name quickly because it didn't matter, we came up with a name quickly because it was the perfect name for our child. Neither Ryan or James was a name that we had ever discussed before, but they were placed on our hearts. When I looked up the meaning of the name Ryan, it brought tears to my eyes - little king (thus Our Little King). How perfect the name was. Our son was diagnosed with a fatal form of dwarfism, but no matter how small his stature, he would rule our hearts. His importance does not lie in his size or the length of his life, his legacy will be much greater.

I did not realize at the time and only recently learned that James is a family name - from my great grandfather. James is normally listed as meaning supplanter, but I prefer the meaning - grasping at the heel. It reminds me of how Ryan grasped to life to have those moments with us. How he fought to take those few breathes.

The names for our boys never came from a list, they just came, almost as if they choose us.

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Happy Moments

Excited to be sharing another list of happy moments! As I mentioned in my list last week, I had a day off!!!!! It was a random, Tuesday, and it was the first time I just took a day off for me. I really needed it (I probably need a mental health week!). I used my day to treat myself to a manicure and pedicure! Look - still looking good!

On Friday, when picking Sean up from daycare, one of the boys in his class walked right up to me and handed me this picture. May seem a little strange, but I can explain (well, why it was significant, not why he knew to give it to me ~ that explaination belongs to someone greater than me). When I sat down with Sean to explain to him that his little brother would not be able to come and grow up with him, he asked a few questions, then when satisfied, hopped off the chair, picked up his stuffed lion and named him Ryan. That stuffed lion was then placed by Ryan's casket at his graveside service. Needless to say, there is a special place in my heart for little lions.

Another weekend, another family outing! This time to the arts festival in our town, we are there every year! Here is my little artist (if you look, you might notice a football theme!).

The best moment of the week was this morning. When I was joined by 6 friends to walk at the March for Babies in memory of Ryan. I had been hesitant about doing the walk, for several different reasons to long to explain in this list. But a few weeks ago, I was approached by a co-worker who asked if I would want to do the walk and if I would mind if a group walked in Ryan's memory! I was so touched and still hesitant, but decided to go for it and I am so glad I did. It was a great experience and I am already thinking about next year!

Hoping everyone has a happy week!

Relaxing

Today was my day to relax. I took a "mental health" day from work and made plans to get a haircut and redeem a spa gift card with a manicure and pedicure. Throw in a little shopping, some new shoes and it is a pretty perfect day! Except, I determined that when I relax, my mind lets it's walls down and the thoughts/memories come running in. Now, don't get me wrong, it was a good day, just struggled with some thoughts.

So, the pedicure was awesome!!!! It was called "ultimate" and was a definite indulgence for me. The pedicure chair laid back, so it was like taking a nap. I also had a warm wrap around my neck and an "eye pillow". There was a breathing exercise with aromatherapy at the beginning and then silence. Silence and darkness, the perfect combination for thoughts. It started out as a conversation with God, a pretty honest one. Thankfully, God knows my heart so hopefully he could make out the jumble of the conversation. I know I told him that I feel lost and angry. I told him that I don't know where to go from here. I told him I miss my son and begged to know that my son is ok. I talked to him about being scared even thinking about having another child. I told him how much I am currently struggling to figure out how to effectively parent Sean and how to always ensure that he knows he is loved.

As the pedicure continued, I could feel the tears welling up and I was grateful for that eye pillow! As she was scrapping off my calluses (great image, isn't it?!?!), I thought about how that is what I am going through in life. I have all these rough spots, where I try to protect myself. Calluses that block in the thoughts of sadness, the memories of holding my son's delicate body in my hand, the memories of my pregnant tummy when he was still with me, safe. I block the thoughts of regrets, the handprints I don't have, the words I did not say, the preparations I did not have time for, the pictures I don't have from my pregnancy. I block the memories of the hurtful things that were said to me, the memories of those who ignored my pregnancy because that I was easier than talking to me about my dying son, who is still my son. I block it all away, in an effort to block the pain.

The problem is there are cracks in the calluses and that pain and sadness still leaks through. And it just keeps coming, because instead of walking in my pain, acknowledging it, I hide from it. But I am trying to work on my own calluses, trying to smooth over, working to incorporate my pain and memories into who I am and who I want to be. Realizing that by doing that, I will be able to honor Ryan.

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Happy list!

Another weekend (as I am a day late!), another happy list! Still a great way for me to focus on the positive moments from the past week.

A nice Friday commute (both to and from work!). To fully understand the happiness, you must know that I only drive about 20 miles each way, but easily takes 50 minutes to an hour. To add to that, Sean rides with me. Now, I love having that time with my son but when traffic is barely moving and I am stressed about getting to work on time, or exhausted after a long day of work, the never ending questions of a 4 year old, can grate on the most patient nerves. So anytime the commute ends up taking less time, especially on a Friday, it is a happy moment!!!

Follow that with some time to myself this morning!!! Just to ride in the car, sing to my own music with no one listening or just having some moments of silence!!

Family time - last weekend at day out with Thomas (dream come true for a 4 year old little boy!)

and then a crawfish festival (for my other boy) today!

A girls night! Always a much needed and much enjoyed evening that includes good food and DESSERT! I love sweets!

The anticipation of a day off (more to come next week!)

Great friends who took the initiative to form a team for the March for Babies in memory of Ryan (more to come on that as well!)

All in all, a pretty good week! - Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Blog Party

I have decided to join up with the 2011 Ultimate Blog Party hosted by 5 Minutes for Mom. For those who don't know me, that is totally out of my comfort zone. I don't like to put myself put there for others to read about, but this past year has changed how I think about a lot of things. Come join the party by clicking on the button above!

Here is all about me and my blog!

I am a 31 year old working mom. I am married to an amazing man who has seen me at my best and at my worst and loves me in spite! I work as a medical social worker, which can be stressful and rewarding at the same time. This past year I have been refined by my role as a mom. I have a beautiful, vivacious, crazy (in a god way) 4 year old son. I am also mom to a beautiful son in heaven.

I started my blog as a way to keep family and friends informed during my pregnancy with Ryan, after we learned of his fatal diagnosis. It has allowed me an environment to brag about my child whose life was 29 weeks and 5 days while I carries him and 1 hour and 57 minutes while his dad and I held him in our arms. As his mom, I have found this blog as a way to share his story and connect with an amazing community of other moms whose children are inspiring others from their heavenly homes.

This blog has been my place to process my grief, to share the thoughts I can't speak. It has been my place to share moments of unmeasurable sadness and those moments when joy has snuck back in my life. It has also become a place where I can keep memories of my older son and share my challenges and struggles for personal growth.

Simply, this blog is where my heart finds words and healing.


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One small step

One of my biggest struggles since Ryan's birth is being around other babies. I walk through stores and see little ones asleep in their car carriers, little ones being carried in their father's arms, moms shushing their sweet cries and my heart just breaks, the pieces they crack a little bit more. The sound of those cries, how I wish I could have heard Ryan's sweet cry. I remember sitting in church not many weeks after Ryan died and my tears flowed as I heard the sound of a little one crying. After church, Scott told me that when he hears the cries and laughter of other babies, he hears Ryan telling us hello. I was so glad to know that he was thinking of Ryan and then so jealous that he could fine something positive in something so heartbreaking.

Four months later, a good friend had a beautiful baby girl and I couldn't bring myself to visit them in the hospital. I felt so ashamed and so guilty that I could not join them in their moment of joy when they had walked with my family through our grief. Once they had made it back home, I finally gathered my resolve and made my way to their house with the intention of just dropping off a gift. But my friend knew, she knew I was struggling and welcomed me into her home. She welcomed me tears and all. I don't remember much from the visit, except the beauty of their daughter sleeping and the tears welling in my eyes.

Since that day, I have seen her daughter one more time and otherwise I have shied away from being around babies. At work, I would experience extreme anxiety at the thought of having to see a patient in the women's hospital. I don't trust myself to hold it together enough to speak to a patient with a newborn in the room. Thinking of this, I am flooded with emotions of grief, anger, jealousy, and simply profound sadness. Even writing about it the tears are starting to fall.

All of this, leads me to my one small step. My little accomplishment. Another good friend of mine, had a daughter who was born just over a month before Ryan. At the time her daughter was born, I was still so engulfed in preparing to say goodbye to my son that I did not greet her daughter. I had already missed her shower earlier because it was held just a few weeks after we learned of Ryan's diagnosis. I have since struggled with feeling like a crummy friend. Just yesterday, I met her daughter for the first time. She is 7 months old and adorable! I sat beside her and smiled at her, touched her hand and rubbed her back while she fell asleep. The tears stayed hidden, but the thoughts that ran through my head. The thoughts that I should have a little boy just a month younger to cuddle in my arms. I wonder, would he love to cuddle like I think he would, would he love to laugh like his big brother, would he be sitting up. But even with those thoughts, even with the hidden tears, I was present, I was there.


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Bunnies and more (Saturday happy list)

My happy list for the week. The month of March has been a difficult one, so it is nice to take the time and focus on some good moments. Natasha, I am so glad you started this!

Bunnies and knowing that other's remember Ryan (yes there is a story behind this, but it is for another day)

Spring, flowers, new leaves on the trees, the hope for new beginnings

My FAVORITE pants and comfy socks! Perfect for lounging on the couch.

Backyard baseball (Lucy even found a safe spot to watch!)

Now, for an evening of hot dogs and ice cream. Our annual dinner to celebrate the start of baseball season!

Empty

I feel empty. Empty of thoughts, void of feelings, tired, worn out, empty. Most weeks I process a lot of thoughts thinking about what I will write on here and this week there has been nothing.

I wish I had some wonderful revelation this week or some great moment of joy, but I feel like I have stalled out. The tears are still right there, almost waiting for the most inconvenient time to let loose. But the sobs, they aren't there, evenly tears are silent, empty.

I want to cry out for comfort, for peace, for something, but even that takes more than I have right now.

Ryan, momma misses you more than I have words to explain...


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Happy list

After reading everyone else's happy lists the last few weeks I have decided to join in, because this week has been a week where I needed to focus on some happy thoughts. And all the other happy lists bring a smile to my face. This is a great weekly reminder of happiness!.

This beautiful image of Ryan's name in the sands of Hawaii. Thank you, Angel Babies; Names in the Sand

This canvas that was given to me by a sweet coworker in memory of Ryan. I love having it in my office to look at everyday, especially in those moments when the ache is so strong. It is a perfect reminder of my little king who will forever live in my heart!

Sean's sweet face (what mother wouldn't love that!)

Sunshine





A beautiful spring day with a breeze in the air, spent enjoying some college baseball with my family.




Here is to the hope for more happy moments than sad in the week to come...

Beginning

Could it really be that one year ago, tomorrow, I confirmed I was pregnant with my second child. I can't believe it has been a year. A year since that moment of joy and excitement. I remember feelings of anxiety wondering how we were going to manage and adapt to having a second child, if only I knew then, to cherish every moment of the pregnancy. It wasn't even that I didn't cherish it, I even took a picture that day a year ago to have proof of the positive pregnancy test (and I had splurged on the test with words!)




I just remember worrying about finances and can I really control, okay, maybe not control, but somewhat manage two children! I wish I could go back to those moments...

This month has been tough. Last week was the six month point since Ryan's birth and tomorrow is not only the year anniversary of when I learned I was pregnant but the 6 month anniversary of Ryan's funeral...

Tonight there a lot of words swimming around in my head, but my thoughts feel jumbled and nothing seems to fit right. I am frustrated and sad and I ache. I want my baby...

I get mad and myself and feel guilty because when I start feeling this way, I know that I am not the mom I want to be or should be for Sean and then my heart breaks again...

There are still moments that I think this must be a nightmare, I have to wake up one day...

I want to find the words to get this out of my head and lift the weight from my chest. The tears don't fall as often anymore, but that ache, it is still there. That wish that I could hold my son again, and not some day in the future, but right now.

Small Miracles Blog Hop #2

Well, I am a day late, but with good reason! This is the second month of the small miracles blog hop and I just got home from a weekend with family. Several of us gathered to go through items and help clean my grandmother's house as she has moved to an Alzheimer's center, so while it was bittersweet, it was good to be back at a home that holds so many memories from my childhood and to see my son running around creating his own memories.

When I think about the small miracles in my life recently, I really think a lot about my 4 year old. While Sean is known to drive me crazy at time, he has such a sweet spirit and a smile that can melt me in an instant. This past week has been hard as we hit the 6 month point since Ryan's birth and we are coming up on the year anniversary of when I learned I was pregnant. But in those moment, Sean has shown me that he remembers his baby brother. In fact, he is only of the only people who will say Ryan's name. I thought I would share the ways that he has talked about Ryan recently, because those moments feel my heart with hope.

Sean likes to ask about what God has in Heaven. He has asked if God has baby food, or if we need to send some. This past week, Sean asked if God had diapers. I told him that I was sure he does and then he asked if God has pottys. I figured he was going somewhere with this, so I asked him if he thinks that God has a potty in Heaven. Sean responded "No, He doesn't have a potty. Ryan has to tee tee in the grass." I know it is a pretty bizarre topic, but for a four year old, the potty can be a topic of conversation and a focus of the day!

Sean and I went to visit Ryan's grave on his 6 month birthday. We refer to it as "Ryan's spot" and I have been caught off guard by Sean's reaction. Sean loves to look at all the flowers at the graves and see the pinwheels and other items left at the other baby markers. This time, he talked to Ryan. Well, more like yelled to Ryan and described his flowers and St. Patrick's day items. And as we drove away, from the back seat I heard, "Can we come back to Ryan's spot tomorrow?" What a great big brother.

Then today, out of nowhere, during our car ride home, Sean pipped up from the back seat to inform us that Ryan must be getting big, because he is eating a lot of baby food...

Six months

Six months since I held my precious, beautiful son. Six months and I don't even really known what I want to say. I want to scream and remind people that I have 2 sons! I want to shout Ryan's name. I want people to understand the depth of my grief.

I am so thankful for those who will say Ryan's name, it is music to my ears and brings a joy to my heart that is indescribable. Just to know he is remembered...

When I returned to work after Ryan's death, I carried his pictures with me just like any other proud mother. Most people did not ask about Ryan or mention his name, but it did not stop me, I shoved those pictures at anyone I could. Well, I would ask before I would hand over the photo album, but if someone wanted to decline the opportunity of looking at them, they didnt have the guts to say it. Some people may find it strange or even offensive to others to share pictures of a child who had died, but I honestly did not care. I was a proud mother and I wanted to share my beautiful son. I wanted people to acknowledge that my son existed. From the moment I learned of Ryan's diagnosis I was on a quest. A quest to ensure that my child would not be forgotten, that his story would not just be remembered but SHARED. That his name would be spoken. I struggle sometimes thinking about how I will achieve this when he already seems forgotten, when his name is already rarely spoken outside of my home.

Dear Ryan,

Six months ago I held you in my arms and how they ache for you now. I am still so very proud of you! And I am so proud to call myself your mother! I think of you all the time. It is baseball season, and I so wish you could be enjoying the games with your dad and big brother. We are a family of four and you will forever be carried in our hearts. I wish I could see you in heaven, see you healed, happy and safe in the arms of God. In my head I am so thankful that you are being held in the arms of your Father, but my heart still wants you here with me and your Daddy. I miss you every moment and love you so very much!
Love,
Mommy

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Laughter

There isn't much that gets a smile on my face quicker than hearing my son, Sean's laughter. I think Sean has a beautiful insight into the wonder of laughter.

On Sunday, we took a family trip to visit Ryan's marker. We brought out the St Patrick's Day decorations and let Sean put them out. On the drive home, Sean perked up from the back seat to ask if Ryan can hear us. I reassured him that he can (the same reassurance Sean provided me last week). Sean then proceeded to inform us that Ryan needs a toy, one that makes noise. Sean clarified that the toy needs to laugh, because he knows that if Ryan hears the toy laugh, he will laugh as well. Ahhhh, sweet boy you are a great big brother and you would have been the best at making Ryan laugh. Come to think of it, I am sure he has been cracking up some days watching you!



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Would I have dared

Have you ever wondered, what if I could see the future? Or what if I had seen my future in my past? If at the age of 15, 18, 20, I had seen what life had in store for me?

I would have seen a wedding with my best friend. I would have seen the ups and downs of marriage. I would have seen the satisfaction of a job well down. The heartache of friendships lost. The pride in the purchase of a home. The stress of financial struggles. I would have seen the tried and true friendships and the new friends that would come into my life. I would have seen joys, fears, anxiety, hope.

I would have seen my boys. I would have seen my child's grave. I would have heard my son's laughter and I would have seen my other son's few breaths.

If I had seen these things, what would I have noticed? What would I have focused on? Would my heart have swelled with joy, love, and the amazing blessings in my life? Or would I have found my self suffocated in fear?

I can look back now grateful for the opportunity to have carried Ryan for 29 weeks 5 days, grateful for the 3 breaths I saw him take, grateful for the 1 hour 57 minutes of his beautiful life. But if before I was ever pregnant, I knew my child's life on earth would be that brief, would I have given myself over to the journey. How I would like to say a resounding YES! But I don't know that I would have, I don't know that I would have looked beyond the fear, anxiety and grief to see the joy and peace...and I would have missed out on a beautiful child.


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How old?

Just a moment from my day, that might bring a smile to yours.

On my drive home with Sean, he was discussing how he hopes to one day be able to ride in the "big seats". He then proceeded to tell me that I need to work on making a third seat in the front for him. Then he reassured me that I have plenty of time, because it is going to be a long time before he is big enough, since he is only 4. He figures he will have to be 65 to be big enough!!!!

Now I'm scared to ask him how old he thinks I am!!!!


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Big Brother

I decided that I wanted to set aside entries to focus on Sean, Ryan's big brother. He has been such a light in my life and our family's life and I want to share a little bit of that. At the same time, it will allow me to create a little bit of a record of him growing up!



Last weekend, we took Sean to see Ryan's marker at the cemetery. He had not been there since the graveside service, but I finally felt ready to share it with him. I had hesitated before when there was no maker, and then once the marker arrived, I was scared of how to explain it or how he would react. The day we took him, I realized we had nothing to worry about. It was no big deal - he just liked the flowers! We have since talked about picking out different things to take to Ryan and Sean has said that he needs a little toy. This weekend, Sean helped me shop for some flowers to take later and some decorations for up coming holidays. It felt good to be able to involve Sean. Next time he gets to help us clean off the dirt, for some reason, Ryan's marker never seems to stay clean!



This past week, Sean gave me a good reminder - "mom, we can talk to him [Ryan], he can hear us in Heaven".

It is time again for the small miracles blog hop. I don't have any profound thoughts or even much to write, but just one thing to share. This cross sits on my desk at work, and has been there since before Ryan's diagnosis and possibly even before my pregnancy. It is where I look daily when I need a boost of hope and I don't think I realized when I picked it out, how much it would come to mean to me.






"And hope does not disappoint us because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us"Romans 5:5





"I eagerly expect and hope that I will in no way be ashamed, but will have sufficient courage so that now as always Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death"
Philippians 1:20

Signs

I have to confess, I have been feeling slightly jealous of other baby loss moms. I know this sounds crazy, but I am getting acclimated to having crazy feelings! Since the moment I received Ryan's diagnosis and found myself a member of this community that I scarcly thought of before, I have found comfort in reading the stories and journeys of other moms. In reading their thoughts, experiences, pains and joys, I have been fascinated and jealous of their experiences of "signs" that their babies are okay.

I have been jealous because I want a sign that Ryan is okay, that he is resting securely in the arms of God, that he is smiling, laughing and healed in Heaven. Just after we learned of Ryan's diagnosis, we were sitting in church and a song was performed that I have mentioned in this blog before "If You Could See Me Now". Listening to that song, at that moment, felt like a gift from God. We were trying to wrap our minds around a diagnosis that was not only considered 100% fatal, but also caused some physical deformities that were already visible in arms and legs weeks behind in development, and to hear the words "standing tall and whole" was beyond explanation. That moment, with the tears streaming down my face, leaning on my husband sharing our world of pain, at that moment I knew that Ryan was okay and would be okay. At that moment, I knew I would carry my son until he was called home.

But since that moment, since I said goodbye, I have struggled. I beg in my mind for something to let me know that he is okay, that I made the right choices. I have started to wonder if I have just closed my eyes to possible signs, shut my mind off to the possibility of reassurance. I feel torn between not wanting to force something into being a sign but wanting one so desperately. As I write this, I am thinking about the night Ryan was born and how nothing was as I planned it. It wasn't the scheduled delivery we were anticipating and preparing for, one more reminder that I was not in control. But the way that things work out can be amazing - the friend that was able to care for my son and be present during Ryan's birth and capture those beautiful memories for us, the nursing and OR staff who respected the life of my son, having friends as my nurses when I said my final goodbye to Ryan, for all of that to come together, I know someone greater than me was in control.

This week I was looking at the beautiful picture of Ryan's name in the sand (check out namesinthesand.blogspot.com for beautiful images and an amazing ministry to families who have lost children). The more I look at the picture, the more I know that sunset was for me (at least partly for me). If you ask Sean what mommy's favorite color is, he won't even hesitate before telling you purple. Ryan's sunset is the most beautiful purple sunset!

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Resale

Clutter resolution update!

I have not been doing as well as I would have liked dealing with the physical clutter in my home, but I have made some progress! I had done a lot of cleaning and purging back in January, and the bags of items to be donated (large black trash bags!!!) have been hanging out in the entry way. I am pretty sure that is not a design element that will be implemented into others homes!!!

A few weeks ago, in preparation for having a house guest (one of the only motivators to get me to do a good cleaning of my house!), we moved the bags and loaded them in the back of my husband's car. They stayed there for quite awhile as great decoration for a car! This past weekend though, we finally dropped them off at a donation center!!! Progress! Of course there are already a few small bags of donation items back in my entry way, maybe it will become a decorative item!

The one big accomplishment, though, was taking about 75 clothing items that Sean has outgrown to a massive kids resale event! The great thing is that this helped motivate me to clean out the closest where I shove every shirt, pants, shoes, socks, toys or other misc baby/kid item that Sean has outgrown! At the same time, it will hopefully help address our financial clutter! Any amount made from the resale (no high expectations!) will be used to help pay off debt. Any thing to chip away at it! My husband picks up a lot if extra hours at work to help with it, so I feel pretty guilty not always being able to contribute extra. Yes, I work full time, so I contribute, but my husband works an insane amount! So that was my start to find my own little way to help!

It feels good to be chipping away at the clutter in my life, even if it is not happening as quickly as I would like!


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A little light

Sometimes things just hit you in the gut. At church today, the message felt like it was just for me. I know it touched home for others, but it was close to my heart. Understanding God's grace.

"God loves you no matter what"

The little light in the darkness. The tiny hope in moments of despair.

The darkness - how well I know it. The despair, the moments of heart-wrenching sadness. Screaming in the shower, allowing the tears to fall and blend with the water pouring down. The deep ache waking every morning, feeling the swolleness of my pregnant belly, knowing that my son was still with me but then remembering that he was destined for his eternal home. And now, the ache of empty arms.

Depression, despair, darkness. But inspite of it all, the mornings still come. I still wake up, get up, and take that first step. I still smile, find moments of joy, hope and laughter. All from the grace of God. That small light, the hints of joy, hope, they are reminders of God's love and grace. For in those darkest moments, it was faith, the belief in His unwavering love and grace, that gave me the courage to get up and face another day. Faith and belief that my son is in God's arms and I will see him again.

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest" Matthew 11:28 (NIV)


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Wish List

I first read this wish list on another baby loss mom's facebook post and since have read it several places all over the web. I just had to share, because it says some things better than I could.

Wish List for a Bereaved Parent

1. I wish my child hadn't died, I wish I had him back

2. I wish you wouldn't be afraid to speak my child's name. My child LIVED and was very important to me. I need to hear that he was important to you also.

3. If I cry and get emotional when you talk about my child, I wish you knew that it isn't because you have hurt me. My child's death is the cause of my tears. You have talked about my child and you have allowed me to share my grief, I thank you for both.

4. I wish you wouldn't "kill" my child again by removing his pictures, or other remembrances from your home.

5. Being a bereaved parent is not contagious, so I wish you wouldn't shy away from me, I need you now more than ever.

6. I need diversions, I want to hear about you, but I also want you to hear about me. I might be sad and I might cry, but I wish you would me talk about my child, my favorite topic of the day.

7. I know you might pray for me often. I also know that my child's death pains you, too. I wish you would let me know those things through a phone call, a card, note, or a real big hug.

8. I wish you wouldn't expect my grief to be over in a short period of time. I wish you could understand that my grief will never be over. I will suffer the death of my child until the day I die. Grief is a life long process.

9. I am working very hard in my recovery, but I wish you could understand that I will never fully recover. I will always miss my child, and I will always griever that he is dead.

10. I wish you wouldn't expect me "not to thing about it" or to "be happy". Neither will happen for a very long time, so don't frustrate yourself.

11. I don't want to have a "pity party", but I do wish you would let me grieve. I must hurt before I can heal.

12. I wish you understood how my life has shattered. I know it is miserable for you to be around me when I'm feeling miserable. Please be as patient with me as I am with you.

13. When I say "I'm doing okay", I wish you could understand that I don't "feel" okay and that I struggle daily.

14. I wish you knew that all of the grief reactions I'm having are very normal. Depression, anger, hopelessness, and overwhelming sadness are all to be expected. So please excuse me when I am quiet and withdrawn or irritable and cranky.

15. Your advice to "take one day at a time" is excellent advice, however, a day is too much and too fast for me right now. I wish you could understand that I'm doing good to handle an hour at a time.

16. Please excuse me if I seem rude, certainly not my intent. Sometimes the world around me goes too fast and I need to get off. When I walk away, I wish you would let me find a quiet place to spend time alone.

17. I wish you understood that grief changes people. When my child died, a big part of me died with him. I am not the same person I was before my child died, and I will never be that person again.

18. I wish very much that you could understand - understand my loss and grief, my silence and my tears, my void and my pain. But...I pray daily that you will never understand.

And one more, I am adding, for the baby loss moms

I wish that you would understand that the importance and significance of my child's life is not to be measured in breaths that were taken; minutes,hours or days that were lived; but in love...and my child was LOVED

Hope

A blog hop has been started in the baby loss mom community and at first I was hesitant to participate, but here it goes, for Ryan.

Hope is a word that has rested in the forefront of my mind since the time of Ryan's diagnosis. Hope for any miracle. The hope that we would meet our son during this life. Hope that he would be without pain. Hope that our marriage would not only survive but thrive with Ryan's memory. Hope that our son, Sean, would grow up with a memory of his little brother and a heart of compassion.

In the depths of grieve, there are moments that I want to throw hope aside! But that is when I am reminded that those miracles we hoped and prayed for, they happened! No, Ryan was not healed on this Earth, but he is healed in Heaven. We got to meet him alive, he was with us for two beautiful hours. There was never a sense of pain during his life, in fact it was quite peaceful. Our marriage and family are surviving and we find strength in Ryan's memory.

Just yesterday I experienced a moment that melted my heart, it helped me hold on to my hope that Sean will remember his little brother. I was driving in the car with Sean and he was making up songs as only a 4 year old can do. Most of he songs were about cars, his toys and his friends. But then the last song he sang began with lines about loving his baby in heaven. So simple, but so perfect and so full of hope.


Our prayers have all been answered, I have finally arrived.
The healing that had been delayed has now been realized.
No one's in a hurry. There's no schedule to keep.
We're all enjoying Jesus, just sitting at His feet.


If you could see me now, I'm walking streets of gold.
If you could see me now, I standing strong and whole.
If you could see me now, you'd know I've seen his face.
If you could see me now, you'd know the pain is erased.
You wouldn's want me to ever leave this place,
If you could only see me now.

(If you could see me now - Kim Noblitt)






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Five Months

"In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on." Robert Frost

How I want it to stand still! I want time to stop and go in reverse, or atleast go on hold. Five months is too long. I want to hold Ryan again. I want to smell his head and count his fingers and toes. I want to take him all in again. But no matter what I want, life goes on.

During my pregnancy I was given a bracelet that had a cross on it that was also a prayer box. I received it after learning of Ryan's diagnosis and worry nearly every day. The piece of paper in the prayer box had a simple prayer for peace and comfort and for Ryan. I remember sitting with my hands on my belly and the cross lying there and I would pass my thumb over the cross while praying for Ryan. The prayers would range from thankfulness for my son, hopes to feel his kicks, hopes to meet him in this live and the ultimate hope for the miracle I wouldnt even dare to speak of.

I have lost the bracelet and I am mad. Mad at myself for not realizing it was gone right away and mad at God. Yes, I am mad at God over a bracelet! Was not everything else I have endured enough. Is it not enough that I have buried a child, that now I don't have the item that is connected to memories of my time with Ryan. The item that symbolized my faith that God was not abandoning me or my child, that he could find a way for there to be a positive outcome for a devastating situation! I know it is just metal, but it is so much more. I know I am still blessed, but I also still feel surrounded by darkness and I am not feeling as confident about the breaking of dawn to bring forth the light.


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Valentine's

To my Valentine,
We have been together for over half of my life. You are one of God's greatest blessings in my life. You have loved me at my worst and stood beside me at my best. You have cried with me, laughed with me, and been angry at the world with me. I am proud of our family and there is no one that I would rather raise my son with than you. We both know that our relationship is far from perfect and we have had our share of "discussions", but you have shown me through your words and actions, your dedication to our marriage and our family.

Your hands held mine when we said our vows. Your hands held mine when we welcomed Sean to our family. Your hands held mine when we received the news that Ryan would not come home with us. Your hands held Ryan and cradled him in his short but significant life. Your hands held mine when we said goodbye to Ryan. Your hands held mine at his funeral. Your hands hold my heart.

Thank you for loving me, for loving our children. Thank you for always standing beside me.

"We're dancing in the minefields

We're sailing in the storm

This is harder than we dreamed

But I believe that's what the promise is for

So when I lose my way, find me

When I lose love's chains, bind me

At the end of all my faith, till the end of all my days

When I forget my name, remind me

'Cause we bear the light of the Son of Man

So there's nothing left to fear

So I'll walk with you in the shadowlands

Till the shadows disappear

'Cause he promised not to leave us

And his promises are true

So in the face of all this chaos, baby,

I can dance with you"

~Dancing in the Minefields by Andrew Peterson

Boxes

A small box with a green ribbon being carried by a women. Not noticed by most, but heartbreaking to some. How does it come to be that I leave work at the same time a family's hopes, dreams, love is being carried out...

In a moment, I am back in September. Back, sitting in a funeral home looking at a satin covered box that holds my hopes, dreams, love. Back standing beside that small box helping Sean say goodbye to his baby brother, smoothing down my baby's hair, trying to accept that he is being held in the arms of God. I am sitting in a cemetery singing Amazing Grace, placing a rose on that little box and saying goodbye. Holding my husband's hand and grasping for hope.

One little box...



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