The Conversation That Hurt

A few days ago, we had someone visiting our home. I got home with a massive headache that seemed to be trying to morph into a migraine. So light was not my friend and I just wanted to go to bed.

I could tell by Mark's body language that me heading off to bed at 7 was not going to go over well. So I tried to put my chin up and clean up the kitchen and make small talk with our guest.

Let's just say that the conversation went into a direction that caught me extremely off guard.

Somehow we started to talk about Andrew. I probably shouldn't have gone there. But she was concerned about Mark. About us.

"Mark's having a hard time this month."  I said.

"Oh really," she commented shocked.

I described some of his nightmares. His panicking over things with Lynn. His seeming, almost paranoia at times, that she will die or get hurt and die. That all the kids will die.

She seemed surprised. Almost alarmed. It almost seemed like she didn't believe me. There was an awkward silence. I sat down at the dining room table where she was at and put my hand on the stand where Lynn was sitting in her bouncy seat.

"Did you struggle much when you lost your son?" I ask hoping for some connection . . . or . . . something.

She responds that she didn't really. His death was for such a different reason than Andrew's. He died of a medical condition. His heart wasn't formed right for some reason that she doesn't really know. So it wasn't hard for her. That caught me strangely. How could even that not be difficult? It's your child. Your flesh and blood.

It seemed there was little sympathy there. Of course, I could be wrong. But I definitely felt like I should protect my heart at that point and just wanted to go to bed. Gosh was my head killing me.

"How old was Andrew when he died?" she asked me. "23 weeks?"

"Um," the last thing I wanted to do is figure out his age in weeks.

"All I know is that he was five and a half months. I've never thought of his age in weeks." I stated groggily.

"Oh, so then he was about 24 weeks or so." I closed my eyes and moved my head around wishing I was in bed. I didn't care how many weeks old he was. He's not here is all I knew.

More silence.

"Lynn is 10 weeks now?" she asked reaching out to touch Lynn's foot.

I looked at the calendar on the wall just over Lynn's head. "Yeah."

"So she's almost half way to the age that Andrew was when he died."

And my heart stopped and jumped into my throat.

"What!?!" was what I thought in my head as I thought I was going to lose it. I felt such an intensity of pain and then looked at Lynn almost with panic.

A wave of nausea came over me.

She's almost halfway to where . . . . oh my gosh. I thought to myself.

The aching in my heart grew more palpable as I looked down at the floor. I almost thought that . . . . I almost couldn't breathe.

I couldn't do this right then.

Who says that to someone who had just told them that they were having a tough time to dealing with their child's death even a year and a half later? Who says that? What kind of . . . . .

Even now, it hurts to think about what she said. It still catches in the throat. I still find myself sickened by such a thought. So nonchalantly. So casually as though she were talking about one of the boys going out to go sledding.

It's not as though I am not aware that when she turns 5 1/2 months, that that may be a bit difficult for us. I am nervous for that day. A bit fearful.

But pah-leeze.

Such an awful thing to say.

What an awful thing to call to mind.

Gosh that conversation hurts. . . . . gosh my heart hurts.

Who is at Fault for Andrew's Death?

December has been a tough month for Mark. Part of it is unknown to me but a portion seems to stem from the anniversary of Andrew's birthday.

He has been dealing with a lot of guilt. I figured he probably would but has never voiced it. If I had been home at the time, I would have blamed myself for his death. But it was good to hear Mark share that. Something I know must have been difficult to admit. I would have been quite fearful in his shoes to share that with him.

He has struggled so with this he asked me how I could continue to live with him after this. That really shocked me.

"I fear I would not have been as gentle with you as you have been with me," he also said. This is true. He probably wouldn't have. "I am surprised you  haven't blamed me for this." He even stated that, although it was an accident and really no one's fault, since he was the one responsible for Andrew's care, it was ultimately his fault.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"I have struggled with that since Andrew died." I never thought I would say that to him. I figured there would never be a "right" time. I knew it was possibly something I could never voice to him because it would only cause him more pain than good. I also knew that such a struggle within me was something that could destroy us and our family and our children. So I kept it quiet.

Shared it only with God.

No one knew.

It has been a heavy thought to bear.

Oddly, he was glad to hear that I had struggled and did not feel condemned. That was my fear. That I might blurt it out in a moment of utter frustration or anger at him for something surrounding Andrew's death. And in expressing such a dark thought that he would turn to his old vices. That our family would lay in a shambles. That we would all be ruined.

But he didn't.

We lived through this open and bare moment. We shared in a moment of total honesty and came out the other side in peace. And now the load is not as much of a burden any longer.

I still struggle with how just a few small changes could have saved his life. Just doing one thing differently, giving a different answer, having a different approach would have possibly meant that we would still have Andrew here with us.

I suppose that struggle will probably never be fully resolved. Almost like which came first, the chicken or the egg. Except this predicament is much more personally weighty to me.

I can understand why couples do not always make it through after a child dies. It is difficult. Not just the differences in grieving styles added onto the normal stresses of life. It's those unspoken things that hang there that fester in the darkness. That gather their strength and seek to burst forth at an ill-timed moment when the other is weak and vulnerable. To strike at the weak spot. To jab at the open wounds.

We have both finally been able to disarm this a bit. I have thrown down my sword and Mark is surprised.

His tendency is not really gentleness or a quiet answer to turn away anger. That is often my way.

For once I got to see its wisdom at work. And I thank God for giving me the strength to wait for the opportune moment to share the lie that has tried to deceive me regarding Mark's role in Andrew's death and bring more healing to us both. That is only His goodness shining through. His faithfulness. Grace that I do not deserve.

So who's at fault? No one. I say to the lies, no one is at fault for Andrew dying. So stop trying to make me bitter and unforgiving. Because I won't accept it.

Merry Christmas 2012 Andrew!

Merry Christmas Little Special! This would have been your second Christmas at home with us if you had lived.

We decided that Christmas Day was going to be more just our family and Mark's mom, Jean. But a few weeks ago I realized that a single woman I am friends with at the office has no family in town. So Mark and I extended the invitation for her to join us for the holiday. No pressure. No need to bring presents or anything. Just come and join us. She was so touched by our invitation and appreciative of the gesture.

She normally spends it alone. Last year she tried to find Chinese and was surprised that no place was open. So I insisted then, that she should join our family. We're informal, casual, open a few presents, enjoy the kids' reactions to their various gifts and eat.

So she arrived today and quickly blended in as we enjoyed watching the boys open their few presents. And then I got the delight of handing Emlyn, my friend who joined us, her own Christmas stocking and some presents we had purchased for her. Things I knew she could use and would like. Tea, Epsom salts for the bath, candles in favorite scents, etc. It was so much fun looking for presents to bless her with. And it was even more fun to see her surprise at how much we gave her.

And she, despite my telling her she did not need to bring gifts, gave the boys dinosaurs, Lynn some special rattles and Mark and I a gift card. She even gave my mother-in-law a candle. Emlyn loves candles and my mother-in-law likes them as well.

It was wonderful to open our home and the holiday to her and just meant a lot to us to have her join our family for the day. Too bad Andrew wasn't here to meet her.

He would have been getting into everything most likely.

After cleaning up from a delicious lunch, I challenged Samuel's fleet to a sea battle. And Ryan helped me figure out what positions to look for Samuel's ships. I was about to win when grandma took over the game as Samuel felt called to playing with the new racetrack they had just received and she sank my last battleship just before I could finish sinking her last ship. I turned to Emlyn to comment, "I said I like playing battleship. But that doesn't mean I am good at it."

Then we found the new card game Mark had purchased. We didn't know there was a shorter version so us women played for 2 1/2 hours before Emlyn came out of no where and cleaned out her stock pile. All while I snuggled the little treasure and we talked writing, places... people... stories...life.

And Andrew was with us all in our hearts.

Merry Christmas little special!

And does it hurt today? Christmas only hurt when he was here with us at the NICU and we celebrated as a family somewhere else becuase the NICU did not allow children under age 12 in. That was the only thing that hurt. So, as I said last year, we're used to not having him with us physically in the room on Christmas Day. When going to the Rogers for Mark's side for their celebration and when going to the Falksens on my side. So all of that to say . . . . only in the most small of ways does it hurt.

Dwelling on Andrew with Delight

Two years ago today Andrew got my heart by showing me that he wanted to breastfeed. Now, for me, and possibly other mothers that have a baby born by Cesarean 7 weeks before the due date, that your body may be capable of all of the same things as when your child comes full term but there is a bit of a delay. So my milk, actually the initial milk called colostrum, was not available after he was born.

This broke my heart when I first pumped. Only a few drops were extracted.

They told me I would have to pump for a few days in order to get my milk flowing. So that's what I did. Every 3 hours, I pumped for 4 days without getting much each time. It was so saddening to me. I wanted to give him the added nutrients all of his siblings had had that were born.

On the 5th day after his, I was about ready to give up thinking that my body just wasn't going to do it. That I was wearing myself out for nothing. So I held him on the 23rd of 2010 and apologized because it seemed that I wouldn't be able to give him breastmilk even through his little tube that they had down his nose into his stomach. And NICU nurses said that he probably wouldn't nurse.

So I held him, the little 7 inch long bundled up body that his 20 inches was, and sang to him and enjoyed my snuggle time with him. He always nestled into me without hesitation as though that was always where he wanted to stay. It was so nice. He was much more of a cuddler than any of the kids have been, including Lynn.

Then he began to move his little head back and forth. It was 6:30 at night. I only remember because when I came to visit, the marker board recorded his vitals, last feeding time, the name of the nurse and Mark and I's contact info in case they needed to call us. It was a vital part of the communication and monitoring his health at a glance.

So anyway, somehow I remember it was 6:30, because the movement of his head became much more insistent. I looked up at the clock and saw that 7 was his next feeding. Now in NICU they have the babies on a VERY strict feeding schedule. We were told not to mess with it to make sure he adapted to it. So he's giving me the cues that he's wanting to eat and BAD and I look at the clock and see he has to wait another half hour.

But he keeps moving his head back and forth and making little grunting noises as he was getting upset at not getting any results. So, I looked at the clock again and decided, this is my little boy. He's telling me he's hungry so I can't deny him that. Especially since I did not get to be with him around the clock. The other boys needed me to spend time with them as well. It was so hard.

So I made the adjustments to get him into position and he latched on immediately. It was like he was a pro and the little tug and sound of his swallows warmed my heart. The little guy really was hungry. He really did want to nurse. And I felt tears well up in my eyes. My heart felt so full and I was so proud of him. Next to breathing at the moment he was born 7 weeks early and not having to depend upon life support, this was a wonderful accomplishment. So little and already doing so well.

He nursed for 5 maybe 10 minutes. I came to learn that that was his typical pattern. He didn't have enough energy to nurse for a full session.

Then he fell asleep all content. I just kept staring at him amazed letting him stay close to me. I relished this moment. I still cherish the memory if you can't tell.

The nurse came in at 7 to feed him and I told her what had happened. I was expecting a lecture on how I had messed up his schedule and I was fully prepared to tell her she could take his schedule and shove it at the moment. It was first time wanting to breastfeed and I thought that bonding and closeness was much more important than that.

Well she didn't scold me but said she was glad to hear that he had showed an interest in nursing. She took the feeding tube in his nose, attached a syringe and pulled out the contents he had drank. It was half of what he needed per his weight. It seemed so strange and cruel. So she pushed the colostrum back through his tube into his tummy. Then she filled up the syringe with the amount he needed to finish the feeding and I held it up so that he could complete his feeding.

They measured everything meticulously and tracked his weight with each feeding. It was amazing and sad. So many monitors hooked up to his little tiny body.

That's why I always held him the entire time I visited him. Whether it was a few hours or 12 hours (there were few such visits that were so long). It was so unfortunate. We'd talk. I'd sing. He'd snuggle in close. I'd kiss him often and marveled at the miracle he was to us.

What wonderful things to dwell on as we head into our second Christmas without him at home.

The Dream

I have been doing a bit better.

When I meet with my doctor for her to check my medication, she said she thinks that this birthday has been more difficult only because I wasn't expecting it to be difficult. She guessed that if I had expected that his birthday would be as difficult as it was last year, then it would have been "easier". But since I wasn't expecting the trial that it ended up being, it caught me off guard when it was a bit trying.

It makes sense. Perhaps that is true.

I had a dream last night.

I was going to one of the grief support groups I've attended. It almost looked like I was at a trade show. The place looked like an auditorium set up how trade shows are set up. Seats in rows. Booths to the right and left and behind the areas where people were gathering.

The leader of the mom's group I attend at times introduced me to a woman. She had just lost one of her children. She began to talk to me and tell me her story. She was so emotional and extremely sad. It was almost like I was in her memory seeing what she was saying. It was so strange. Suddenly she said that the child she lost was a twin.

I thought to myself how awful that was. How hard for her and that twin that survived.

Then I was out of her memory and back in the place where the meeting was going to be held. And I felt so sad for her.

Then I awakened thinking that I was glad that dream was over.

Evidentally I'm still processing this week.

The Memories That Slip Away

Snow is falling and the wind is blowing. Even though it is nightime, the clouds trap the city lights and the air has this grayish purple glow to it. And the sky looks like it has its own intrinsic light. As I look out my dining room window, I see one of our larger, older trees shaking slightly in the wind. Its leave rustle although I hear no sound of their movement. Instead I only hear the slight swoosh of the furnace heating our home. Countering the extreme cold of the winter landscape outside.

It finally feels like Christmastime. A holiday that I normally just relish and savor listening to the music of this beautiful time of year. And this year, both Mark and I have struggled with getting excited or motivated for this holiday.

Andrew's second birthday has come and gone. Although Mark and I discussed the fact of what the day was yesterday, the boys did not comment. It was almost like they didn't notice. In some ways I envy their seeming innocence in this vein of our lives. And yet I know they too will feel more pain over this loss in the days, months and years to come.

I have noticed of late that my memory, my recall of my little special isn't as crisp as it used to be. It's harder for me to remember his face. The look in his eyes. How they twinkled and looked deep into mine. The sounds he would make as he "talked" to me. The giggle he would let slip out as he grinned all big at me.

He was so full of life and yet, it's his life that seems to be slipping away. Almost like I'm forgetting him.

I try so hard to keep it all there. But it just keeps departing from my recollection bit by bit. Moment by moment. Minute by minute that I shared with him.

How he felt. How he loved. How he was.

This makes me so sad.

I look at pictures of him and it's almost like he's a stranger. How can this be? A mother can't forget her own child. I know I'm not forgetting my son but it sure seems like I am. This isn't right.

I miss him so much.

And it hurts so badly sometimes I want to tear out my heart and stop feeling. I want to stop existing. (Not kill myself - it just hurts so much it would be nice not to feel the pain of losing him.)

But it feels like I'm forgetting him.

Then I get a bit anxious.

I can't forget him. That can't be what's happening.

And yet . . . . I can't bring him to mind as easily or in as much detail as I used to. And although I know I will never forget him, he's my son that I carried and bore. He's my flesh and blood.  A part of me. A mother can't forget her children ever. Besides, I still bear the scar where they cut me open to get him out so that he and I would live.

But I still find myself wondering, am I forgetting him? Will he keep just slipping away bit by bit over they years until he's only a photograph and emotions felt without memories attached?

To forget him, would be one of the most awful things I think. And it causes tears to well up in my eyes and trickle down my cheeks. And makes my sting as though its very nerves are being pulled out.

Oh how awful this all is at times.

Can you hear my quiet cries? Can you see the tears streaming down my face?

Can anyone see Andrew?

Happy 2nd Birthday Andrew!

Happy Birthday Andrew!

Happy 2nd birthday!

Your dad and I are a bit down today. Instead of getting out a birthday cake I made for you and putting 2 candles on top for you to blow out after singing, "happy birthday" to you, we have just another evening at home.

Just another day.

Well, not really.

It's a day where your absence is especially felt.

I should have gone shopping for you trying to find something special just for you to play with. And a new book. Probably a Dr. Seuss I really like that your brothers have destroyed and we've thrown away.

I should have given you a hug this morning before going to work, given you an extra kiss on the forehead and said, "happy birthday little special!"

I wonder if I still would be calling you little special at this point?

I still wonder what you would be like? What would your voice sound like? How would you be joking around now because I'm pretty sure you were a little joker in the making. What would you like to play with? Which brother would you play with the most?

Would you have learned to go up the stairs first or down? Samuel would go up and not down for the longest time. Then when Alex came along, he quickly gravitated to the stairs to keep up with Samuel and ended up mastering going down first. Scared the heck out of me until we learned that he'd automatically turn himself around and slide down bump after bump on his belly. He'd get down in 2 seconds flat. Or would Ryan show you a new way which would cause us to fear for the first few times?

Well, sadly, we won't know.

And unfortunately, we don't know.

You are forever 5 1/2 months to us although we mark the years now. And we miss you terribly.

Happy Birthday Andrew!

We send you our love even though we are apart. And wish that you were here with us.

Somehow We Ended Up on the Topic of Andrew

Mark and I got to go to the theater recently. I got complimentary tickets as a thank you for being the contact person and organizer of the group membership my company has at the civic center. Otherwise we probably wouldn't have gone to the play that was opening recently. (And I didn't care for it myself when we saw it either.)

On the way there, we were chatting about stuff. You know, life. Kids. Home. Work. Stuff.

Somehow we found ourselves on the topic of Andrew. Mark has been dealing with some of his grief surrounding his death. And I asked him if he'd share. He did.

I was amazed at what I learned. Mark has talked so little about his perspective, what he's thinking and how he's doing. Evidently it hit him a few weeks ago and God helped him through it. It was good to hear that God was strengthening him and healing his heart.

I won't share the conversation. It is private to just he and I. But suffice it to say, it was a very good conversation and a very honest one on both of our parts. I was shocked at some of what he shared. Something that I think may help both us with healing a bit more.

Gosh - what a way to begin a date night.

We sure miss you little special.

I Don't Want the Day to Come

Here I thought Andrew's 2nd birthday anniversary wasn't going to be so bad.

Silly me. I had come to deceive myself that this year wouldn't be so bad. It's his birthday not the anniversary of his death.

But this week I have been a bit moody. Snippy. Very melancholy. And down hearted.

My little special was born 2 years ago this coming Tuesday. What a wonderful day!

And as we heard his first cries, we had no idea that our days were numbered with the little guy. That we would see his last breath five and a half months later.

When not at work and putting on this air that all is fine, I had a big frown on my face. I walked around almost like I was in a daze. It was hard to be present my sadness was so intense and deep.

Well, at work it wasn't totally an act that all is well. I can get distracted at work with all the projects and things I am responsible for.

I even wrote, mostly on my own, a proposal that got us an interview in a few weeks. It wasn't even fully compliant with their requirements at my project manager's insistence. Crazy. Long story. Ask me sometime if you want to know because we're all amazed that we were asked for an interview. It should not have happened.

Anyway, today has been the first day I have felt somewhat normal. That the sorrow has not been so strong.

How am I going to deal with this? This year is the first year that I work on the anniversary of his birth.

And I don't want the day to come.

And It Happened Right Before Christmas

Yesterday, in Connecticut, a 20 year old killed 27 people at an elementary school. An elementary school. How sick is that? I can't imagine.

I heard this on the way home from work and became so sickened by it that I found it difficult to drive home after that. I felt such sorrow and grief.

I pictured it in my mind. Young, innocent children attending just another day of school. Minding their own business. Thinking about recess, how boring school is, dreaming of Christmas morning, giggling over silly things like odd body sounds. And then 20 of them had their lives taken from them along with 6 of their teachers or other adults at the school before the gunman took his own life.

How awful. How traumatic. Those poor, poor families that lost children. The siblings that lost their brother or sister. The classmates traumatized by seeing their peers killed.

It is simply awful. Tragic. Horrible.

It is overwhelming to me that such a thing happened to children.

Murder.

I can't imagine the struggles of those parents and siblings and spouses of people that worked there. I know some of the pain the parents feel but not the pain of my child being murdered. Mine died because of a most stupid and tragic accident. An accident. Not someone purposefully killing my child.

Oh God. How awful this is. Comfort those families and people that are so hurt by this. Bring peace. Bring your Presence. Bring your strength for them to go on. Bring Your healing.

How sad.

This is hard to grasp.

And it all happened right before Christmas. How very hard and impossible this Christmas will be now. And how trying this time of year will always be for those people. I think December is a difficult month. How much more for these people now.

May this not ruin anyone touched by this but, eventually, make them stronger.

Conversations with Alex

Some amazing things happened this week.

When I was putting Alex to bed over the weekend, he told me he always gets sad when we visit Andrew's grave. I was so surprised to hear him bringing up Andrew on his own. And yet I also got a lump in my throat. I found myself feeling concern that this conversation may go on for awhile and how was I going to handle it. I didn't know that I could handle it.

I told him that his dad and I also get sad when we visit Andrew's grave too.

"It's very normal," I told him.

He just sighed and said, "yeah," and moved on to talking about something else.

The funeral home did say that they would bring it up like a random thought and then move onto something else like they had just talked about a toy or anything else. Gosh is that ever true.

And then just last night he came out after I had put them to bed. I was in the dining room trying to get things cleaned up and make bottles for Lynn. He had his index finger in his mouth and was acting almost shy.

"Um, mom," he said, "we haven't gone to Andrew's grave in a long time." He paused. Alex moved a few steps closer to me, ran his right toe around on the floor in front of him as he looked down.

Again I was surprised that he was bringing up Andrew but was much more stable emotionally about it.

"Yes it has." I said to him trying to make eye contact with him. I wondered where he was going with this.

"Um, mom," he said with trepidation and sighed.

"Yes sweetheart," I replied.

"When are we going to go back to his grave?"

I was about to answer when he continued with continued shyness.

"Did he ever get a stone on his grave?"

I responded, "Yes, that happened a few months ago."

"Well, uh," he continued, "I want to see what his grave looks like now that the stone is on it?"

He wanted us to take him there.

"Of course. We can take you there whenever you want to. All you need to do is ask us."

"Okay."

I told Mark when he got home and we'll be heading out to Andrew's grave sometime soon for Alex.

That Night

The Open House at my work went quite well. I actually networked fairly successfully. This is a first for me. It's a hypothesis I had. If I got to the point where I knew some people then I could probably handle a room full of people that I should talk to to further develop those relationships. And I wasn't terrified for once!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It felt great!

The only thing that caught me a bit off guard was sharing about my family. I, of course, was proud to brag up Lynn and carried around a small photo album I made of Lynn's little life. Well, with that came the question of how many other children I had or how many boys.

I am used to this and yet I'm not. Most of the time now I have come to realize I need to say I have only 4 children to avoid the whole awkward conversation about our deceased children.

But on occassion I feel a bit downhearted about this. That night was such a night. On that night I wanted to acknowledge we have 6.

I left feeling a bit downhearted. Proud of myself that I had networked well but saddened by not being able to acknowledge Andrew and Alexa.

Since Andrew Died . . .

It's a busy week at work. A huge proposal to write. A report to get off to a client. Another report to write for another client. The open house to prepare for. I haven't been able to be at home as much as I would like to. And my little girl still acts like she doesn't know me when I get home. How sad that is to me.

I saw a dear friend today. Totally unplanned and, as always, a very pleasant surprise. A very welcome surprise. Like usual, it lifted my spirits and left me with a huge smile. It was like a breath of fresh air. This friend is one of the the people that I treasure in my life. Someone that means a lot to me. Gosh it was so nice.

We chatted for a short time, joked around like we usually do, caught up a little bit and then had to get to other commitments. Of course, Lynn came up and how I am saddened to be away from her during the day. Hopefully we'll be able to get together soon and take more time to catch up more appropriately.

Since Andrew died, I have found that I want to be more relational. More intentional. Make more out of life than I did before. Especially with Lynn, my family and even with this friend I saw today. I really try to make the short amount of time that I can have with her now when I'm off count. Just like I want my time with my friends and family to count more. That's a bit difficult for me in some ways. I am much more task-oriented than people-oriented. Although if I know I am respected and cared for by someone, then it's easier for me to be more relational with that person. And if I click with someone, and become comfortable with someone, then that ability is only amplified. At that point I will be extremely loyal to that person and can be very warm and caring.

It's just something I have to keep working on in myself. To be more warm to others and social as I interact in life. And thanks to Andrew, that has been boosted on a bit more.

Since Andrew died, a few other things have changed in me too. How I try to mother. How I try to be. Who I try to be.

May God give me the ability to become who I am supposed to become in Him.

We Were There For Them

Yesterday my mom emailed me. A third cousin of mine, Scott, had lost his step-daughter in a tragic car accident last week and the visitation and funeral were last night. His mom, my 2nd cousin Glenda, told my mom thinking that Mark and I may want to go since we understand the pain of losing a child firsthand.

Now, I don't remember Scott at all. He's around 17 years older than me and was only a name to me and a picture on Glenda's wall as I grew up. So this was going to be a bit strange but all I could think of was, this is a hard time and if we could be of any comfort or provide any kind of support, we needed to go. Unlike us, his step-daughter was 33 and had a family of her own but it's still hard.

I immediately called Mark and told him that I thought we needed to go. That it was probably important for us to be there for them since we have experienced the pain of losing a child. I was pleasantly surprised that he didn't question or doubt my instincts and agreed with me. He called his mother and she agreed to look after the kids for us to go.

As we drove to the medium-sized town about an hour from our house where the funeral was being held, I had a small sense of uneasiness within me. What emotions would this evoke in me? Would I lose it during the service? Does this mean I'll have an awful dream about Andrew tonight? Will this stir up things I don't want to feel? How are they handling this? Will Scott even know who I am or how I am related? What will we find?

I wrote a personal note in the card we got at the last minute that said we know how words do not describe at this time but that we were there for them if they wanted. I gave them my contact info and signed it for the family.

We got to the funeral home and I found Glenda and we hugged. She introduced me to Scott. It was awkward but I tried to make some conversation and show I genuinely cared. I couldn't really read where he was at. He was quite stoic and looked almost fine with a touch of sad. I made sure to look him in the eye and with concern asked about his wife. How was she doing with all of this. I didn't know much about Scott and his wife and his family so I was really feeling around in the dark trying not to sound stupid.

To my question I actually read some emotion. I'm not saying he wasn't feeling them, he just seemed to be able to hide his emotions well.

"It's been hard," he said. I nodded in agreement. I understood. I knew too well. This is the third death for them. Two grandchildren and now their daughter. I shook my head. How awful.

"So it's hard," he said again.

I said something and felt so bad and yet still awkward.

Glenda added in how Mark and I understood. "They lost their son last year." She said.

"Yes," replied Scott as he looked back at us seeming to be uncomfortable now himself, "I remember."

I learned later that he had been married to his wife, Janelle, for 20 years. So then I felt stupid for not asking him how he was doing. I just felt so awkward and odd and self-conscious.

Glenda's son, Neil, was there with his wife and we were very glad to see each other. Neil is very special to me. He's in his fifties but I know him the best of Glenda's kids. I played my flute at his first wedding many years ago when I was in college. But the thing that really bonds us together is that he lost his son just a few weeks before we lost ours. Despite his fresh pain and grief, he insisted on coming to Andrew's funeral to support us. He knew the pain we were feeling and wanted to be there for us. It meant a lot to me that he showed up and he cried as he hugged me when he arrived at our church for the service.

As usual, Neil gave me a huge, long, intense hug and we exchanged real pleasantries. In other words, that it was good to see each other and we really told each other how we were actually doing. We instinctively knew that we were talking about dealing with the loss of our sons. It was good to connect and share in the moment. Neil is such a good man and I was so glad he was there.

The concerns I had before were still playing in my mind as we sat down for the service to begin. Scott down next to a woman and put his arm around her. Finally I knew who his wife was. She was definitely having a hard time as she put her head on Scott's shoulder.

The pastor began the service reading the obituary. I read along and found myself at the end before the pastor. One of the last lines read, "she joins her son . . . and her grandparents . . .". And I closed my eyes as I thought, "wow, she joins her son. I look forward to joining mine someday. But she's with hers." And a tear ran down my cheek. I pressed my lips together and thought about being with Andrew. How nice that would be to see him and be with him.

I handed the program to my husband in case he wanted to read it and look at the pastor while thinking, "she joins her son". I kept thinking about that off and on for the rest of the night.

The rest of the service turned out to be rather "uneventful" in a sense. It wasn't a beautiful service. It wasn't very touching except for the beginning as people shared about their memories of this woman named PJ. It was rather strange actually. Not just because I didn't know the deceased or hardly anyone, it was just a different kind of service than I have been to before since most of the attendees didn't seem to be very respectful of what they were there for. Many were chatting throughout the special music numbers, which included a hip hop song that I found to be rather strange myself but it's what they chose.

We enjoyed time with Glenda afterwards, I got another huge hug from Neil and we headed on our way. Although not what I expected, we still were there for them. That made us feel good. And we knew we did the right thing. We were there for them.

It's Coming

It's Sunday night. The eve of another work week. And this week my work hosts its annual Open House. And this year I'm looking forward to it. I have to send out some invites to some of my friends and hopefully have a chance to see them.

On the flip side, little princess has enjoyed having me home and we've spent most of the time together. I am feeling heavy of heart that I return to work again tomorrow and will be parted from her. I do not look forward to her expression when I come home. I know she'll adjust . . .

This has been another tough weekend.

Andrew's second birthday is coming up. How ironic, his second birthday anniversary will be Lynn's 2 month birthday. Slowly I am starting to dread this.

I think of him so much now.

Partly because of Lynn. It's hard not to draw some parallels. Not comparing really . . .

I don't know.

It's hard to describe.

Leaving Leave and Leaving Lynn

I have returned to work. My maternity leave is done.

And while it is good in some ways to be back at it again, it is also saddening to me too.

As I expected, the teams I work with held off on many things while I was out. And some things didn't move ahead because the temp didn't know to keep asking to keep them moving. Or how to ask or maybe that she should ask.

She did a good job but her inexperience definitely showed.

Each night I come home from the office and make a special point of saying hello to Lynn and planting a kiss on her forehead. I love her so much and miss her so during the day.

And she looks blankly at me almost like she doesn't know who I am. It just kills me. I hated leaving Andrew to go to work and Lynn is no different. I dread the moment I have to go away. And Lynn's almost indifference to me when I return tears my heart out. As my heart is sad that she is not happy to see me, I tell her that I love her and that I missed her so much and that I never leave because of her. I just have to work so that we can have a place to live and eat and stuff. I repeat that a few times to her throughout the evening and hold her close and give her as much attention and love as I am able to between doing the dishes, doing laundry and picking up the house.

A few hours into the evening, she finally lights up like a light bulb and gives me a smile while wiggling her legs with excitement. And I look deeply into her eyes and talk to her about how special she is, how precious and dear she is to me.

Unfortunately, I have to retire for the night to try to get some sleep before my night shift comes. The next morning, I get ready to leave, kiss her good-bye again and tell her that I love her so much, will miss her terribly and that I don't leave because of her. It's only because I have to work so that we can live. Otherwise I would be right there with her.

Gosh do I hate that I don't get to be with her during the day.

Someone Remembers Andrew

Sunday morning I awoke with a great need to go to church. I needed to be in God's presence. I needed to see my friends. I needed a change of scenery. But I really needed to be with God.

I walked into the sanctuary looking forward to the start of worship and looked around to saw hello to some of my friends. After some waves and finding a seat, worship began. I held up my hands to invite the Lord to draw near and was thrilled to feel His presence around me and in the room. I relaxed into it, closed my eyes as I put back my head and entered into the music. Lingered in the moment. Enjoyed the peaceful calm and love that comes with Him.

When Mark finally got in there with Lynn, I tenderly undid her car seat straps, and with great care, lifted her out of seat and gently placed her body in my arms. I planted a tiny kiss on her forehead and snuggled her close as I went to show her off to Bonita.

I have known Bonita for two years now. She is like a mother to me. I love her dearly and just treasure having her as a friend. She's great and so encouraging and kind. Eevn after hearing me share my life story with her and listening to me confess the worst things I have done in my life. So she means a great deal to me to know so much and so much of what is NOT flattering or becoming about me and still love me anyway. And she was delighted to finally meet Lynn and have the opportunity to hold her.

"She's so beautiful Kay," she told me as she looked into Lynn's eyes affetionately. Our conversation continued for a few minutes talking about my daughter when she surprised me.

"I remember when you brought Andrew around for me to meet him. You were so proud then too."

Immediately I felt my heart strings pulled as I remembered showing him off to her. She was one of the few to meet him. I pressed my lips together tightly and began to notice the pain of his loss rising in me again. "Oh no." I thought. "Not again." And I looked down at the floor and gave her a bit of a smile.

But in the midst of this came this slight feeling of joy. She remembered Andrew. Someone remembered Andrew besides my immediate family.

It was nice to know that he wasn't totally forgotten. Granted, there are others who remember him. Hardly anyone brings him up. I don't know if it's becuase they are afraid I'll get upset or that they don't want to or if they really don't remember that I lost my son. Most likely though, it's because people don't know what to say or if they should say anything at all. Funny how you want people to remember, to talk about the one you lost and yet you don't at the same time. It's so odd and hard to explain unless you've been there.

I opened my mouth to say something and looked her in the eyes. She was looking at me fondly and with great care. And I realized that I was speechless and that my mouth was just hanging open.

Finally I replied, "Yes, I do." And smiled a bit at her again as I remembered that moment when I introduced Bonita to my little special. I thought I was about ready to cry and looked at the platform where the worship band was playing.

Interrupting my mixed emotional state, she exclaimed looking down at Lynn, "Gosh she is precious."

We exchanged a few more words about Lynn and how the boys are handling having a baby sister before she handed her back to me.

"This one is different, Kay because she'll stay with us. Won't she?" Bonita stated giving me a strong, supportive look.

"Yes she will." I said as I took her back into my arms.

Thank You God that someone remembers Andrew. That I get to share Lynn with others freely. For drawing close to me. You are too gracious and kind to me.

Saturday Night Continued

Last Saturday was one of the more difficult times that I have had in quite awhile. And I certainly don't enjoy them in the least.

After finally leaving Alex's room, I called a friend and she came over within a few minutes asking what is wrong. Thank God. I don't call that often crying into the phone. I do that with few people actually.

All I had to say was, "Andrew," and she hugged me while I cried.

I told her what had happened and she listened.

Alex peaked out. I think he was a bit worried since I was upset and crying. The boys don't like when they see me cry.

I reached out to him and he came into my arms readily and climbed up into my lap.

"It will be alright." I whispered in his ear as I wrapped my arms around him drawing him closer to me. "I love you."

Beth, my friend and neighbor, went into his room and read him his book.

I sat in my chair hunched over trying to push away the images of my son struggling for his life. Trying to stop feeling so much. I felt almost frantic in a way - like a caged animal.

Mark came home and I shared what had happened as Beth left. Then, in a frenzy, I gathered up my laptop to head into the bedroom to watch a movie. Anything to forget this. To numb the pain.

"Kay, don't medicate. It will only be repressed. I encourage you to feel it and deal with it tonight."

I sighed. I hated when he made sense.

So I curled up in bed and wrote about what happened.

I cried.

I felt.

I wanted to die it hurt so bad.

And then I went to sleep.

Sometimes It's Just Too Much

Too much pain.

There is just too much pain.

Picture this. I am putting the boys to bed tonight. Lynn is being a bit fussy. Ryan and Samuel do not want to stay in bed or quiet down so they are jumping around their room. Alex is walking around his room wrapped in his favorite blanket and keeps asking me to read his story to him. All 4 kids want attention at once and Mark is out at a meeting.

Me - I am tired from a day that started earlier than I would have preferred and am getting a bit frustrated. I tell Alex that I can't hold his baby sister and read his book at the same time. So unfortunately I am not able to read to him.

"You mean, she might fall out of your arms and die?" he asks and I swallow feeling some unwanted feelings surfacing.

"Yes Alex," I reply trying not to get emotional.

Eventually from that the topic of Andrew comes up. Alex sighed and actually begins to open up. This is the first time he has been willing to talk about the accident. His story is conflicting probably like his emotions.

"I don't know if it's my fault or Ryan's?" he states at one point.

He talks about what may have happened and I begin to picture what may have happened on that fateful day over a year and a half ago. Vividly I see the last moment of my son's life as it may have happened and find myself feeling so full of sorrow and pain at the memory that tears are beginning to creep out of my eyes as my mouth is frowning so hard it hurts.

It's too much pain.

It's just too much pain.

I'm holding Lynn and finally my son is opening up and I am beginning to feel like I want to just run away and hide in a hole somewhere far, far away. And at the same time feel this conflicting need to make sure that my son is okay and doesn't feel bad. The need to comfort him while I want to be anywhere but there at that moment.

Longing to just break down and cry and yet knowing that I have to stay strong for my son.

The juxtaposing feelings to being responsible and mature and wanting to say "to heck with this" and hide.

It's too much!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I manage to tell Alex that it's okay. That I'm upset right now but that it will be alright.

That it's not his fault or Ryan's fault.

That he doesn't need to feel bad or guilty.

That we don't blame him or Ryan at all.

It was just an accident.

That we love him.

And that it will be alright.

Then I quickly leave the room and begin to cry.

It's just too much!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I force myself to pull together and walk calmly into Alex's room to give him a kiss, tell him good-night and that I love him and tuck him in under his covers.

After leaving his room, I put Lynn down and get emotional. Tears run down my cheeks.

Sometimes it's just too much.

As Life Goes On, I Still Remember You Andrew

Today was Thanksgiving Day.

Andrew never celebrated Thanksgiving Day with us. We have never shared this holiday with him. That makes me a bit sad. How long will I think of him as we pass by holidays and each milestone? I suppose this is my lot in life for the remainder of my days.

There is so much we did not get to share with him.

And there will be more to come that we will not share with him. Such is life.

But it was Lynn's first Thanksgiving holiday. And the day was alright. A small gathering to celebrate the holiday, I took a short nap with Lynn sleeping on my chest this afternoon and we ended the day at at the Clymers who live just around the corner.

And now we head into the Christmas season. Andrew's second birthday will come in a few weeks. Oddly I find myself getting a bit down thinking of it. Last year I was so scared of the day coming and how it would be. And I am hoping that this year there will not be as much dread and trepidation at the arrival of that day.

In a conversation with my mother recently she said that she has 7 grandchildren. She made a point of spelling out that she still considers Andrew her grandson. And this warmed my heart. He may not be here with us but he's still a part of us. He will always be part of our family. Nothing will change that. And so few will know that.

So few will acknowledge him or know that he ever was with us for a time.

How sad to me. He was such a dear boy. So happy. So cheerful. So special.

My little special.

Happy Thanksgiving Andrew! Mommy still loves you with all of her heart. And you are never far from my thoughts. I will always love you Andrew. Always.

What Will Be Revealed in Time?

Introducing Lynn around has brought on a lot of conversations about our family size from those that don't know us but see or hear that we have a newborn. It's usual.

In fact, on one occasion, a young woman named Megan, asked how many older brothers she had? This was the first time that form of the question has arisen.

Now for me, whenever someone asks about our family size or our number of children or number of boys we have, I always answer that we have 4 children or 3 boys or that Lynn has 3 brothers. But my immediate next thought on my mind,that I do not share, is always something about Andrew. Just a quick mental pause where I remember him and think, "and you don't know about Andrew and won't."

We got Lynn's social security card in the mail this week. I commented that once again we would still be claiming 4 children on our taxes this year. Andrew was claimed the last 2 tax years since he was born in 2010 right at the end of the year and then died in 2011. Lynn arrived this year, in 2012. How odd in a way.

Mark immediately commented, "I wish it were 5."

"Me too," was my response and Mark was in a dampened mood the rest of the day.

I wonder at times what it would be like if he were still here. He'd be walking around and running after his bigger brothers. But what would he be like. He was always such a happy boy who loved to laugh. I think he was destined to be a joker since he seemed to love getting me with "the fountain" whenever I changed his diaper and then would look at me and giggle. Little pill. But what else would there be.

He would also be close to being caught up developmentally at this point in his life. I wonder how delayed he would have been in different areas and how that would have been like.

I was talking with one of my dear friends this week about our children and how different they all are. He commented on how Lynn's personality will eventually start showing itself. "All will be revealed in time." He kept saying. This is true. So far I know she is very easy going and seems to be a happy  girl. She's very much mommy's girl so far but she is quite her daddy as well. But what more to come, is yet to be seen.

Yes, all will be revealed in time my dear friend.

Spirits are High

This week has been a pretty good week. I imagine part of it is due to the fact that I ended up starting the antidepressants and giving up nursing Lynn. While a sad reality, it is for the best. The low times were coming on so strong and were going deeper and deeper into a dark place that one should not have to travel, that I knew it was better for Lynn to have her mother than not to. We got to have some time bonding in that very special way and she got the benefits to the added nutrients in the breastmilk for a few weeks. And now I seem to have joined the land of the living. Hopefully in 6 months, I can wean off of them and be fine.

It's also been a good week because I've gotten to show Lynn off to some of the people that I wanted to have meet her the most. Some of the most dear to me have already met her but there were just a few more and one in particular that had yet to make her acquaintance. And now there's only my adopted older brother, Terry, and a very special woman that is a precious friend to me, Bonita, among extended family left to have the opportunity.

My boss left a meeting with a big client to meet her and he held her in a way that I said to me he wasn't the most comfortable having her in his arms. I told him it was good grandpa practice for him to which he chuckled and said that it would be awhile before that would come.

Pat, another coworker I just love working with, held her close and gave her kisses. Pat is just great!

Emlyn and I hung out at her desk while Lynn scarfed down a bottle and gave out a good burpie.

And then there was just trying to catch one of my dearest friends. It was hit and miss but after insisting that his schedule would be clear for staying in town until the end of this week, I made sure to make a special, quick trip into town to have the two meet. And she gave him the honor of opening her eyes as he held her securely showing off how he's an experienced father. Few have gotten the privilege yet mostly due to her being at a sleepy time when she's met most everyone. I was so glad and my heart was full. It was great! I really wanted to give him a big hug but decided not to this time.

And now, at the end of the week, Mark took off for a few days at the House of Prayer in Kansas City to recharge. I didn't get much sleep last night since my antidepressant has a side effect in of keeping me awake. So I have to take medicine to be able to sleep. Although since it also conks me out so well for the first few hours I didn't dare take it to make sure that I would hear Lynn awaken for her bottles at night. I do have time to recover from an all nighter and her needs are the most important.

Emlyn came over to do the "late shift" with me last night. We talked until the 3 am bottle. I wasn't going to sleep anyway and she seemed to need an ear. I was also loving the girl talk myself and talking about writing some more with someone who is in the same place as I am. We're sharing what we learn with each other and what we write. Anyway, I got to sleep after the 5 am bottle. My body was finally tired enough to overcome the antidepressant it seemed but only for the next 4 hours. Now I'm incapable of sleeping again since I did have to take my next dose of my medicine. So today hurts a bit but my spirits are high because Lynn has gotten to meet almost everyone that is important to me.

If only I could have done this with Andrew while he was alive instead of at his funeral and visitation and through this blog.



 

Missing Andrew

I miss Andrew. Period.

No explanation needed.

I miss him.

I hold Lynnand just find her to be so special and wonderful. I love her so much and am so grateful that she is with us.

And then I think of Andrew. How I held him. How I loved him when he was with us. And I miss him. I wish we had more pictures to capture his memory better.

He will just be a name to her. A face in a picture. I wonder how he will affect her through the rest of us who knew him and grieve his loss.

But in the end, I just miss him.

I love you little special. I just love you so much.

A Night Out

Last night Mark gave me the pleasure of being able to go out with a girlfriend to hang out. We went to an Open House that my boss holds every year for the building that he owns in town. He will comment if I am in attendance or not and since I have missed the last 2 years I told Mark I should probably make a point of going this year. With his blessing, he told me to go ahead and go and to go out afterwards for a bite to eat. So I called up Emlyn, a lighting designer I work with and am good friends with, and we met up at the building to start out our evening.

We walked in the door and I was pleasantly surprised to hear the voice of a very good and dear friend of mine who was right inside the door waiting for his family. "What? Empty arms?" Or something like that came my way. It was so good to see him, share some quick banter and show off my little girl a little bit. You see, I anticipated I might run into some people who didn't get to meet Lynn this week, so I took a few pictures on my cell phone just before I left the house. I also enjoyed that two of my friends that I have talked to about the other finally got to meet as they introduced themselves to each other. Funny, as I thought about it later, he didn't quite seem like himself totally. He said he had a really busy week and would have another next week. Maybe he was just tired. Hopefully that was all.

From there we headed upstairs and I had an opportunity to see my boss who was glad to see me. I think now I am finally used to how outside of work or at social events he will give me a big hug accompanied by a big kiss on the cheek.

He wants me to make an appointment with him when I bring Lynn into town so that he can meet her next time. The picture Emlyn took of me and texted to some of my colleagues I am closer to at work was good but he wants to meet her in person. I even got to meet my boss' ex-wife. I have only worked with Davis for almost 4 years now and heard about her frequently so it was good to finally have a face with her voice and name.

I got to exchange some other hugs that evening as I ran into other colleagues and friends of mine as we walked around the building. It felt really good to be out and get to socialize. And then we left and went to a restaurant to catch up and enjoy dessert.

While we always talk men - we are women, we spent most of our time talking about writing. She wants to write a book about a syndrome that she suffers from to help others like her understand it better, learn more about it and not feel alone. It's not overly common. So she's looking into writer's conferences. There's one in Hawaii in January she may go to. I told her I have been toying with writing a book since I was in high school. In fact, one of my plans in high school was to stay at home with the kids and write books. Oh how we dream when we're young and oh how life throws its twists. So I discussed my idea with her in great detail. I'd love to go that writer's conference as well but that won't be happening. I'd have to find something closer and a little more reasonable in price.

I had an English professor offer to mentor me in college and try to talk me into changing my major to English. But I told her a double-major was enough for me so Professor Menning just lived with proofing all of my papers and strengthening my craft on the side. It was an honor and a joy to have in my corner and she taught me a lot. I miss her actually. She was always so kind and caring and encouraging and personable.

I even shared with Emlyn about the last boyfriend I had before meeting Mark who was and is a writer. He's actually published. In fact, when we were going out, he was just launching his writing career and was writing his first book. So some of our dates involved us going to a writing group of his. He provided me with some good insight into the industry and thought I had potential to get published. We encouraged each other in our writing, critiqued each other's work and cheered each other on. Maybe I'll contact him by email to ask a few questions like if he has a writer's conference he could recommend so that I could avoid some bad ones that won't provide much.

I've had some others encouraging me to write as well in addition to my family. I have started my book it's just getting it down more and more and learning how to get something published and going out to meet people. Oh crap. Networking. Not my greatest strength especially when I don't know anyone. Last night I networked and didn't mind so much since I knew people who were there. It's the getting to the knowing that it a bit of a challenge for me. Oh well, if it's what must be done I'll just have to find a way to push past this.

Anyway, after enjoying a few hours of adult conversation and some girl talk, I returned home in time to spend the last few hours of Lynn's day with her in my arms as she fell asleep with her head on my chest. I whispered to her about my night, gave her little kisses on her head while telling her how much I love her as I listened to her breathing deeply and with great contentment. And then she reached out her hand and touched my neck before settling down, letting out a huge sigh and falling into a deep sleep at 1 am. Good night little wonder.

Swinging Low

Gosh do I hate the mood swings that come after you have a baby. And the more that you have, the more prone you are to having more intense mood swings and the fun that comes with those. I started noticing it a bit after having Ryan (#4 baby). But with Andrew it got so bad that I didn't want to get out bed and didn't want to see Andrew. Now that's losing some major interest in life there. And unfortunately, with the arrival of my dear Lynn, it is quicker in onset and I think more intense.

Last week was tough in just general recovery. Being in my late 30's and giving birth to child #5 equalled a very, extremely tired out mommy. This week I am generally feeling better. More awake and with it. I'm also so excited that the water balloons that have occupied my feet for the last two weeks, have now gone away leaving me with my normal feet. (Gosh I hope I did not go up in shoe size again.) So I am able to walk around a whole lot better now. I am even thinking it is time to break out the treadmill and begin some walking and am getting excited to start my Pilates to get my figure back. There may be more of me to love but that doesn't mean I want to occupy this state of extra me to go around.

But those mood swings are almost incapacitating. I have a script for an antidepressant but know that if I start taking it, I can't breastfeed Lynn any more. And this is something she has been the most eager and willing to have of any of the kids. Only Andrew's desire for it rivals hers and she beats him only because she is full term and able to handle breastfeeding. Poor little Andrew barely had enough energy to nurse 10 minutes on 1 side and would not be able to get out enough to actually fill his tiny belly after the first week of his life.

Granted, any OB will say it's fine to breastfeed her. But there is no medical proof that such a powerful medication does NOT leak into breastmilk. I refused to take antidepressants while pregnant due to the risks to her development to the point that I quit a high dosage cold turkey when I found out I was pregnant. And that withdrawal was no piece of cake. So while pregnant, I lived with my struggle with the depression much to the hardship of my husband and family. Well, and my job too I guess. And the thought of her taking an antidepressant right along with me, even in tiny doses, does not seem right or fair to her.

So my choice is to let her have something that is special to us that provides her with great nutrients leaving me swinging into some really low places about every 48 hours where I am incapable of doing much except take up space or give that up and be able to start being involved with life.

It's not as easy of a decision in some respects as one might think. But gosh would it be nice to not swing so low and actually get up and feel alive again. Actually contribute to my home and not drag around. Not feel like a lead brick. Not struggle with just being alive. Not want to sleep all the time and be shut down. But enjoy the time at home with my boys before returning to the grind of the job. Maybe I should just try to force myself to pull ahead. Maybe if I start exercising it will boost my emotions enough to get me what I need so that I can continue breastfeeding. I just don't want to give up on that when it's important to her. I don't want to be selfish or seek the easy way out for her.

Showing Off Little Miss and the Panics

Today's was Lynn's first outing to my work. We had an appointment and then I proudly walked into the office that I work in and showed her off to those that were there. And boy did it feel good. Everyone thought she was precious as she just slept the whole time as I passed her off to some of my friends.

And like on Sunday, some of the ones that I wanted to meet her the very most were not in or their schedule didn't allow for the introduction. A bummer but I'll live.  I figured there would be some that wouldn't be available and that is just how it goes.

I even joked that since today was Halloween that I had the perfect costume to go trick or treating in. I would dress up as a mother on maternity leave out with her newborn baby. And I had the perfect prop for the baby. I still chuckle at how silly that is. I'm such a dork.

Oddly she wasn't herself this evening. Almost like this afternoon was too much for her. She was very clingy tonight. The first time she has done that. Perhaps I should be more careful next time. I can't stand to have her upset.

There will probably be another time for me to show off her darlingness to those that haven't met her yet. Interesting I don't bank on that. Not that we're fatalistic or pessimistic or wishing for the worst, but it's a struggle to think that she'll stay with us. Mark keeps checking her to make sure she's still alive. He still has nightmares about Andrew. And now they have evolved into Lynn. How awful is that? He panics if she sleeps too soundly. Or too long.

He even panicked like that at the end of the pregnancy. One morning I slept in until 10, he came into the room. I was just starting to begin the process of waking when I felt him grab my ankle. It had been uncovered quite a bit the night before so it was cool to the touch. I heard him gasp and he got onto the bed all anxious and could hear his breathing change to nervousness as he felt my neck trying to find a pulse. So I grunted a bit and began to move and I heard him let out a huge sigh of relief and sniffle. Then I knew what I thought he might be thinking. He thought I was dead.

How hard this has been on him. I only have a touch of the grief. He's living a hardship and I hope he can move past it soon so that Lynn doesn't lose some of her dad.

Introductions and Tears

On Sunday, I proudly paraded our little girl around the sanctuary at church showing Lynn off to everyone who would listen. Well, okay I wasn't quite that bad but I did parade her around like a prize that she is. She is one of my treasures in this life. It was great to introduce her to a few of my friends. It was a bit discouraging though. It seemed like there were a lot of people who weren't there.

This week I have an appointment in the capitol city with Lynn. So I'm planning on taking her downtown to meet my friends from work.

And in the midst of being so excited to show her off I find myself choked up at times this week. It's just off and on really. Here and there. As I feel such a strong sense of pride and joy over being able to share her with those I love and care for, I feel such pain.

I never got to do this with Andrew. We were always so paranoid about the germs since he was premature and so fragile. Only a handful of people met him. At church, no one could touch him or hold him. I was so afraid he was going to get sick. The NICU told us to be so very careful with him and that if he got sick he would get VERY sick. He only had 1 cold in his little lifetime.He only threw up once. Lynn has thrown up lots of times. In fact, just a few hours ago she doused me with another round.

I was always so concerned about the germs. And the germs didn't get him.

I don't have to be concerned as much with Lynn. So I'm passing her around and showing her off and grieving that I didn't get to do the same thing with Andrew.

My plan was to bring him in to work the second week of June. The week after his death. The week where family, friends and colleagues met him. Met him as he lay in his casket at the visitation. So I got my way but not quite in the way I was thinking I would.

It doesn't seem fair to feel such contrasting emotions. I suppose this will not be the last time.

Grief in the Midst of the Joy

I was holding the little treasure, my other term of endearment for our dear daughter, the other day. Snuggling her close. Cherishing the moment of having her head near mine, her little body laying against my chest upright as I stabilized her head and gently laid my cheek against the top of her head. I was just loving on her as she was having some wakey time. (A key to switching her from the nighttime schedule to day.)

Suddenly I was overcome with the rising emotion. It rose up so slowly at first I didn't notice its tidal wave that it brought until I sensed it begin to crash down on me. This sudden sense of remorse and sorrow and pain over Andrew. I often held him like that. It was one of our favorite ways to hang out together. And here I was doing it again but it wasn't him.

It was such an odd mix to feel as it combined with my joy over being close to my daughter and enjoying spending time with her. And it caught me so off guard that I lifted my head up and closed my eyes.

I don't feel guilty for having another child. For being excited about having her. For loving her and wanting her and enjoying her. It's not like that. I'm not sure what it was really.

And then, before the wave actually hit me, it just disappeared. Dissipated. Evaporated. Dissolved. And was no more.

I wonder what else may come during all of this.

I intend to blog until this little one is 5 1/2 months old and possibly even until the 2 year anniversary of Andrew's death. It's hard to know how these milestones will hit me and my family as have a new addition to our family.

Hauntings of Death Amidst New Life

So we have this new little bundle of life in the house.

One of my dear friends I spoke to early one morning this week, and one of my absolute favorite people in all the world, asked me, "So what is like having a girl in the house?"

I smiled into the phone as I sat in the recliner with her in my arms and replied, "It's wonderful."

The boys just adore her and gently pat her little head. Mark doesn't seem to mind all the pink that he seemed to object to before her arrival. And I am just so glad she's here.

So how does this affect our grief? Does it affect our grief?

Well, I think it's given the boys something to help them get beyond the pain of losing Andrew in a way. For Mark and I it's an interesting bag.

Just before she came, Mark had nightmares again about finding Andrew's lifeless body in our bedroom the day of the accident. Oddly, I had the same image, what I imagine it looked like anyway, running through my mind.

Then after she was born, as they finished up getting her measurements, Mark stayed with the little wonder, as I often call her, as they finished with me. I looked over at one point as he reached out his hand and she grasped his finger. I thought that was so precious and watched as his face became overcome with emotion. Amidst the hustle and bustle around me of the nurses and the doctor, I saw him look down at the floor and his mouth turn into a frown and a look of pain wash over his face. Quickly he let go of her grip and walked away. The doctors and nurses were all very aware of Andrew and that this birth may find us facing some "interesting" emotions. So they knew that he may be needing some support and asked him if he was alright.

They helped him to the rocker that was nearby and his voice broke as he said, "Andrew." They immediately knew what he was talking about and listened. From across the room I felt so bad for him and felt awful I couldn't go to him to try to comfort him. Soon he stood up and came over to the right side of the bed where I lay and I asked him what happened.

"Suddenly all I could think of was when the photographer came up to the hospital and took pictures of us holding Andrew's hand." He was remembering the last hour we spent with our son before they told us he was brain dead. But the mood in the room and among the staff clearly said something was not good about Andrew's condition. This photographer would go around to families who were losing their loved ones and would take pictures of you holding their hand or your rings on the toes or whatever. She donated her services as a way of giving you some lasting mementos of your loved one. These are some of the most heart-wrenching images as we said good-bye to our son. It's not a CD we will probably pull out very often at all. Few will see the gut-wrenching pain we were walking through in those moments that she documented.

So hearing that Mark had just had a flashback to that....
Oh wow. I thought. That's heavy to experience while at the exact opposite moment in our daughter's life. That's tough.

"I'm sorry Mark." I said to him as I hoped these moments would be few for him.

World - Meet Our Little Girl

It was 3:49 pm last Thursday and I was exhausted. My mind was wondering how many more pushes it would take when the nurse said, "KayKay, look down." At first it didn't register but when she repeated the command, I opened my eyes after pushing and looked. To my surprise, I saw a small, little head with wet, matted black hair emerging followed by a wrinkled little face and quickly a small, frail body. I opened my mouth in awe as my daughter was placed on a towel on my belly and the doctors, nurses and the rest of the neonatal team let out their congratulations and sounds of excitement over seeing her arrive.

Since I had requested that I have time to bond with her before she was taken to be measured and ran through the APGAR testing, they immediately moved her closer to me and I placed her newly born body next to mine and began speaking softly to her of how glad I was to meet her and how much I loved her. She was perfect. She was beautiful. And she had finally arrived.

After 13 1/2 hours of active labor, here she finally was and I was ecstatic. Exhausted but ecstatic. I could hardly believe that I was finally holding her and was seeing the usual response that always thrills me and awes me. The look on her face where she stopped crying and got this look like, "wait, I know that voice. I know who this is." And the settling that comes as she laid down her head and stopped crying.

Weighing 8 pounds, 4 ounces, she is our largest baby in weight. At 20 inches, she is our second longest baby. Arriving at 40 weeks and 3 days, she is the second longest pregnancy I have endured and her labor was the 2nd longest. She handled it great and I got what I wanted. A vaginal birth without assistance. God was good and gave me the strength to wait until it was time. And the doctor did not feel any tearing of the uterine wall where Andrew's incision was made. Thank you Lord.

By the end of the evening, we decided to name her Lynn. (A pseudonym for this blog like her brother's names.) And within an hour of being born, I got another present. She began rooting and I nursed her. It was a wonderful feeling and so satisfying after a week long starting and stopping of labor daily.

And now as I write this, she lays in her bouncy seat with big, blue eyes open as her pajamas display pink elephants and the phrase, "My Peanut". A nickname my mom used to call me when I was growing up.

Of course, I have told her about Andrew as I have told her about all her brothers. And I cherish that this time, we got to hold her right away. And this time, we got to bring our child home when I came home. And this time, we enjoy how our sons giggle like giddy school boys when they look at her and relish having a baby sister. This time we celebrate God's grace in our lives to bring both baby and I through safely and in good health. We celebrate our newest addition and know that Andrew is celebrating right along with us.

Happy Birthday Comin' Out

Lunch today was nothing special except that the boys are getting excited to meet their sister. I was glad to tell them that it would be any day now. Samuel got all excited and exclaimed that their sister's first birthday was coming soon. Mark asked him, "do you want to sing her happy birthday on her first birthday?" "Can I?" he asked all aglow. "You certainly could." I said. "Yeah!" exclaimed Samuel,"She's comin' out!"

Ryan immediately began to sing.

"Happy Birthday comin' out. happy birthday comin' out. Happy birthday dear comin' out. happy birthday comin' out."

Mark and I couldn't help but start to chuckle. Gosh is he a card.

On another note, I had another dr appointment today. I have had to go to the dr about 2 times per week the last 2 weeks to have a non-stress test for the baby and my dr check-in where they see if you are progressing at all in labor. As usual, baby girl eventually passed her test and the dr said that I am not making any progress in labor according to what the dr can check at this point. (I don't accept that assessment since she has short fingers and couldn't actually reach my cervix.)

My due date is Monday so today was an important discussion on what will happen since there are no signs that I am progressing towards a vaginal birth. (Again, I don't accept this assessment.) Despite my extreme discomfort, I told the doctor that I really do not want to have a C-section if I can avoid it. If she's in trouble or I am in danger, that is one thing but to just schedule something without giving me time to go into labor on my own really saddens me. And amazingly, the doctor said she would give me another week to go into labor. Then there would be no further delays. Either I would start labor on my own and keep progressing on my own or they will schedule me for the procedure.

I was ecstatic. The only contingency is that I have to come in on Tuesday, if there is no baby, and have an ultrasound done to make sure she is okay. If she scores well, I can stay pregnant. If she doesn't, they will schedule the C-section. I told her that was fine, I was glad that were willing to give me the chance to have her on my own.

I walked out of the office with lifted spirits. Somehow the belly didn't seem quite as heavy and I got home and cried for joy that the pressure is off to produce a baby.

Mark was surprised. With how uncomfortable I am, he thought I would give in and just let them have their way. "It means that much to me to try to give birth to her myself that I would fore go my comfort a bit longer if I can have that opportunity." Was my response. He said that must be the case and he was glad I stood my ground.

After supper, I asked the boys to gather around me we were going to pray and invite little sister to come out and join us. They put their little hands on my belly and began telling their sister they wanted to meet her. Mark and I prayed for baby to come with them. Every once in awhile the boys would bend over and say, "come out baby sister!"

Yes, come forth little one. It is time for you to come.

Waiting with Anticipation

Still no baby.

I packed more of a my suitcase for the hospital as it seemed I was in labor yet again today. It seemed so promising. So I am a bit blue tonight. No little girl in my arms. Still a belly that keeps hanging over more and more and more pressure on my pelvis making my walking even more awkward.

Mark went into the garage and got out some more baby items. The bouncy seat and car seat we got just for Andrew.

I have wondered if this would be hard for me. But it turns out that I have looked at both and am fine. I am excited. I am happy. In short, I am fine. I am reminded of my little special but there is no grief or pain. No hurt or anger. Nothing negative. I look at them and remember Andrew. I see these items that only Andrew used and still look to the future of our little girl using them with great excitement.

Gosh is that nice. I'm guessing his swing will be alright as well. But maybe not. It's hard to predict all things.

We have heard that this little one will bring joy with her into our family. Healing from Andrew's death. I think that may be true. We are all so looking forward to meeting her.

We still don't know what to name her though.

As We Wait for Little Angel

It is evening once again and still no arrival of our dear daughter. Things start but stop after 4 -5 hours. Or they go on for hours on end but are not strong enough to be considered labor. Gosh is this waiting torture.

I usually can be fairly patient but for some reason, when it comes to the arrival of our children, I am always excited in that anxious sort of way where I just can't wait to meet them and find it hard to calmly await their arrival. And so it is with baby #6.

I am 39 weeks now and the days count down to my due date. The date where the doctors will want to wheel me into the OR to do a repeat C-section if there is no labor or progressing labor by the 15th. I don't like this. The C-section I had before, while needed for Andrew's protection and to ensure his survival and mine, to an extent, was so difficult to recover from. A whole lot more pain and a much longer recovery time overall. It made my ability to spend time with my little special much more limited than I wanted. And the pain was awful.

Thankfully Andrew was light as a feather at 5 1/2 pounds so lifting him was no problem. Nursing him was a cinch. I was more concerned that I was going to hurt him since he was such a little tiny thing.

My heart's desire is to have birth begin naturally and progress on its own naturally and for our dear baby girl to enter the world without medical intervention like a C-section. I have been reading up on natural birthing, labor, midwifery, hypno-brithing, the Bradley method and watching documentaries. Arming myself with how to do this as naturally as I will be able to so that I can do this as best as I am able to. Being a wimp when it comes to pain, this is something. I pray God will give me the strength to do this. And that Mark will be strengthened as well since he remembers how this kind of a birth went with Ryan. I had minimal medical assistant and was unable to focus or control the pain for the last 5 excruciating hours I labored for his birth.

I have been fine with this pregnancy since passing Andrew's birth week number and finding out that this one is a girl. But the thought of a C-section breaks my heart. And I fear will remind me of Andrew. That I would lay on that table as they did their operation and closed me back up and would be feeling this awful pain grieving my son. Granted, the goal is healthy baby girl and a healthy mother. But I want to be able to hold my little girl within a few minutes of birthing her. I want to be able to try to nurse her close to her arrival. I want to bond with her as I was not allowed to for Andrew due to circumstances.

Please Lord, let labor come soon. I can hardly walk any more or move. Bring the joy of her arrival. Bring her soon. Bring her in Your time.

Now if only we knew what to name her.

A Tribute to Tommy Tom

We found out today that Tom Duddy died of a heart attack on 9-11. Tom is younger than Mark and older than me by a few years. It was quite shocking and very saddening to us. You see, Tom was one of Mark's roommates when we met. He was hilarious. A good guy and had a weird sense of humor. He was radical for Christ. We're talkin' he would fast for days on end only consuming liquids (especially coffee that was so strong I'm not sure how his coffeemaker survived). Then he'd pig out for a few days and fast for another few weeks to a month.

He always wore a blue T-shirt and jeans except for the day of the wedding. You see, Mark asked Tommy Tom, as we called him, to be best man. So then we were in shock when we saw him in a tux that day and gave him a ton of grief of how civilized he looked. I'm sure he felt very uncomfortable but he wore it for us and was nervous as all get out he'd lose the rings. It was kind of cute how serious he took his responsibility as best man.

Tommy Tom stayed up all night before our wedding praying over every inch of the property where we were married. He wanted God to be honored at our ceremony, as did we. It was a wildlife preserve and hunting lodge. The whole wedding party stayed there together. It was great to be together for those few days as a group of our closest friends. And he thought long and hard about the toast he gave at the reception. He honored us greatly and we have a picture of him with this devilish grin on his face as he was captured decorating our car before we left on our honeymoon. That was the Tommy we knew.

After we married, we didn't see Tom a whole lot. Eventually he moved away from Kansas City and we only saw him a few times after that. Mark and he spoke off and on by phone. But we were not very close after that time in KCMO.

How sad. He died so young. It's shocking. And we are saddened at the loss of someone so special to us. Granted we will see him some day and we know he is with the Lord and happier than he's ever been. But we still feel sad that he's gone and will miss him.

Andrew's Legacy

What is it like to lose a child?

It's like a part of yourself dying. It's like pain greater than you can imagine. It's like nothing that words can really describe.

There have been a few times that I have stopped into the funeral home and seen the precious woman that wrote our son's obituary and his program. She is a very patient, kind and caring woman and boy is she gifted at handling people that are emotional. And whenever I talk to her I get emotional. Probably becuase she is associated with an event that carries strong emotions.

But Kim is great. And she has shared something that brings a smile to my face even now.

When I worked with her on Andrew's program, I directed her to my blog here and told her to pull off one of my first postings that tell Andrew's basic story. No one really got to meet him or get to know him during his short little life. So my goal at his funeral was to make sure that people got to get a little bit of an idea of what Andrew was like. What his story is and was.

Evidentally this isn't something that is done that often. So she's told me that she's had many other mothers come in and Andrew's program is one of the samples that she shows them of how they could honor their child. And she says his little story touches them so much.

Do you know how much that means to me? That my little special is touching people he and I have never met?

Well, it's part of his legacy she tells me. That he touches them. And it helps them to tell the stories of their little ones.

Wow.

I thought his legacy was mainly how he touched me so much with how much he valued me as his mother and that was fine to me. And maybe they'll be a little something with his brothers that we haven't seen yet. I don't know.

But to hear that he is touching others . . . . . . . . . . that means a lot to me.

I love you little special. And I miss you! I always miss you!

The Unexpected Surprise in Storage

Today we celebrated Ryan's 4th birthday. The day is actually tomorrow but we gathered friends and family today since it's hard to have a party after church on Sundays since it gets out so late. So we enjoyed a full house, lots of children and laughter and a few moments here and there to enjoy adult conversation. It was great!

On top of that one of my friend's stayed behind to help me sort through the basement storage to find the infant stuff I have stored from Andrew's days as a baby. We were able to go through the boxes found and sort out bottles, infant toys and the clothes from the baby shower a different friend threw for me last Sunday. All while enjoying some girl talk.

While sorting I found the usual things I have found each time I sort through our infant supplies before having another baby. This time though I got the pleasure of opening the box I have held onto for 8 years now marked "girl stuff". The box I had come to think would never be opened. A box I always avoided when sorting through all of the other boxes with each child's It would make me so sad. Anyway, all of that to say that I got to open the box and take out the blankets, bibs and outfits that have been stored within.

Then we opened up an infant box to find something I had forgotten was stored there. I pulled it out surprised. A light gray bunny hooded bath towel. Caroline, my friend, asked what it was and I told her. She just kept jabbering away as I was mesmerized that I had found it. She didn't notice that I just kept staring at it hardly moving.

What was so special about this?

This was Andrew's. I was looking forward to him growing up enough for him to use it when he became a toddler. But, of course, that was not going to happen now. And I put it in storage after his death not knowing what else to do with it. Any of his clothes are still separated from the other boy clothes in storage even since I am not sure what to do with them.

While all of this is going on in my head, Caroline kept talking although I didn't hear it.

Eventually I managed to say, "this was supposed to be Andrew's."

"Andrew's?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied. and she still didn't seem to understand. It was still a surreal to me to find something of Andrew's out. Even going through the bottles seemed odd since I knew who used them last. And many were not cleaned that well. Probably a rush cleaning Mark did after he died just to get them stored away and out of sight.

And Caroline never did seem to get that I paused at Andrew's bath hoody and paused for a moment from life. It's just how it is. Some people notice. Others don't.

I'm not hurt or offended or anything. And I didn't get overly emotional. It was just weird more than anything. Odd. Something that caught me off guard more than anything. And life went on.

Life always goes on.

And Andrew still is not with us. And we still remember him fondly while preparing for the arrival of a new family member as I wonder what he would about having a little sister. How would he handle her homecoming and presence in our home? What would he be doing? What would he be like? All things I will always wonder. And one that I will find out some day when I get to be with him again. Then I will get to know him and we will both be perfect people able to perfectly enjoy each other as we worship God for all eternity.

In the meantime, happy birthday Ryan! And I still love you immensely Andrew!

Looking Forward to Little Bundle Girl

I'm having a girl. I am having a girl!

I have been deeply blessed by showers at my work and at church. Oh did us ladies have so much ewing and awing over the adorable little girl outfits and ruffles and bows. One lady even said that God told her to buy this gorgeous all white formal dress for our little bundle. How adorable! And the little tiny dress shoes she has received just fuel the fire.

We have all kinds of things in preparation for her arrival and her big brothers are getting so excited as they see the pink and diapers increase.

I wonder what she will be like. Hopefully she'll get some of her father's hair since mine is so thin it hardly does anything. She doesn't really kick. She more wiggles around inside and tickles me. Of course, she stretches on occasion and that really creates some interesting sensations as the organs move out of the way. And I love the feeling of her inside me! If only I wasn't so huge and exhausted all the time. It's so hard to walk. But it's not time yet for her to come.

And I look forward to the special bonding time we'll have in the hospital alone together. It won't be quite as intense and long as it was with Andrew but it will still be nice.

Mark confided in me that he is afraid I will die during this childbirth. I am hoping to have a VBAC but know there is a chance my uterus can rupture due to the C-section scar my uterus bears from Andrew's birth. Knowing that I can have no assistance with this birth, unlike the others, due to this scar and the increased risk any "assistance" would place on my life and the baby's, I plan on doing this natural. No pain medicine. This scares Mark. But Mark doesn't like being in the delivery room anyway. He is in there because he knows his attendance is mandatory since I say it is. He knows he'd sleep on the couch for months or be asked to move into his own room.

Anyway, upon being so open, I thanked him for seeking to be real and open with me. But promptly added that he needed to share those thoughts with someone else. This is a bit scary as is, even with the experience I have with childbirth and even one that was natural. Thankfully he has complied with my request and I pray every night that the birth will go well without complications and progress smoothly.

And then I think about getting to see her for the first time and hold her and comfort her after her shocking entrance into the cold, bright world. Seeing her little face get that look like, wait, I know that smell and I know that voice and snuggle down into my breast and be comforted by my presence. How great is that!!!!! Gosh will that be a beautiful moment to experience again.

And then we'll bring her home and, oh my gosh, will it be great to be together as a family and have the boys get to know their little sister as we get to know her.

Then I will tell her some more about Andrew and show her pictures and snuggle with her in his special blanket I keep by my bedside as she learns about him.