23 Seconds of Andrew

Samuel found something surprising last weekend. I was resting on the couch as he was looking at all of our videos. Mind you, we do not have a video camera. Never have. So our videos have been taken in short snip-its on our digital camera. They're nothing extravagant or anything but they are videos.

So Samuel is watching some very poor videos that I didn't know we had saved. And some that were very cute when suddenly he exclaimed, "oh here's one of Andrew!"

Everythign stopped for me.

"What?" I asked in shock.

"There's one of Andrew."

I sat up straight still in disbelief. There was no way. We had not found any video of him yet. I had just settled in my heart and mind that I would hear his tiny voice again or see his mannerisms that were all his.

Samuel pointed to the computer screen and anxiously told him to play it as my mouth hung open. I couldn't believe that it might be true.

In a matter of seconds, Samuel played the video and heard the cry that I knew was Andrew's. Tears immediately filled my eyes and my heart about burst with joy and pain unimaginable. For the first time ever, I was seeing Andrew's first few moments of life. His little cries that the doctor said he would not be doing. He little legs all curled up. His precious eyes closed. His tiny body laid out on the bed. The nurse standing by in case he needed oxygen. And my darling little special showing that he was strong and didn't need any help.

I couldn't believe it. I never got to see that since I was flat on my back being stitched back up. And I never thought I'd hear his cry ever again.

23 Seconds that stopped time for me a second time. And 23 seconds I never thought I would have of my son.

Thank you God for allowing me to have such a treasure as this!

The Day Andrew Discovered His Hands

About a year ago, Andrew discovered his hands. It was so cute and so hilarious. He would look like at them and get all wide-eyed. And he would stare at them with such intensity that nothing else in the room seemed to exist. His little eyes would glimmer and his little mouth would open a bit to complete the expression of the sense of awe that his eyes were saying.

If I would walk over to him to commentate to him what I thought he was thinking, he would look at me eventually almost as if to say, "mom, look at this. Isn't this neat!"

I would giggle and kiss his little forehead and tell him that I was so proud of him that he found his little hands. Then I would tell him to wait and see because there were even more wonderful things he would learn about in the days to come. And he would stomp his little feet back and forth and giggle and coo with excitement. Such were the nature of our conversations at this point. Me enjoying him. Him so happy that we were talking.

When he learned that his hands could reach out and touch things and even grab them that was a whole new level of awe. And the eyes got big all over again with amazement and wonder. If only life was like that for us adults more often.

The only other son that rivaled Andrew's excitement over his hands was Samuel. He stared in awe at hands and examined every last crease and crevice of them when he found them. Mark and I happily recounted that for the boys when they saw how Andrew was mesmerized by his new discovery. The boys giggled at Andrew's behavior and laughed as we shared how Samuel was even more fascinated by the discovery of his hands.

Of course this would lead to us recalling how Alex hardly seemed to notice them and had bigger and better things to do like keep up with his older brother. Ryan got caught up in the hand discovery for a day or two and then moved on to rolling over and discovering his feet.

Oh how darling they are when they discover new things!

Second Prenatal Visit - Another Reminderof Andrew

I'm not sure about these prenatal visits. I left work to head to my second prenatal visit and found my heart quickly sinking. I should be a bit excited. Or a bit bored since all they do is listen for the heartbeat, measure your belly and take your vitals.

And there's always the joyful pee in the cup fun. Last month was the first time they ever found anything and it got me a strong dose of antibiotics and the answer to why I felt so extra exhausted all the time. All I did was sleep for two weekends in a  row and then half a weekend the weekend after the 10 days of having the antibiotics in my system. I hope this time yields the same boring results of normal.

So, as last month, I drove there crying. Thinking of the visits I did like this for Andrew's pregnancy. I checked in at the doctor's office, got my vitals taken and found myself overcome with emotion again. I felt so alone.

I have to decide whether I will have another C-section or a natural delivery by 20 weeks. That's 7 weeks away. And the thought makes me VERY uncomfortable. It was such a hard recovery. Much harder than its alternative.

All was fine except that the baby seemed to hide in the far recesses of my womb. My gosh! The doctor had quite a time finding the heartbeat. At first I was fine knowing that it can take a bit of time. But then he kept pushing in harder and digging around trying to find the baby. My heart started to drop. And I began to grow concerned. I became frightened that the baby didn't have a heartbeat anymore. That maybe this one was gone too as the doctor kept moving the instrument around trying to find the heartbeat.

But finally he found the heartbeat just before I was going to start balling thinking I had lost another child. And that thought just about killed me.

I Miss Andrew Mom

The other night we sat down to dinner, reached out to hold hands with each other and were about to pray the blessing over our meal when Samuel blurted out a sentence that caught us completely off guard.

He sighed and said with all his heart and a frown on his face, "I miss Andrew." He acted like he couldn't it in any longer and as though he had just let out a huge burden. And it stopped Mark and I in are tracks.

Let's just say, I made sure to look in his eyes, tell him that we miss him too and then Mark offered one of the quickest blessings we have ever done. It was hard to know what to say. But we wanted to make sure that he knows that he can tell us about what he's thinking and feeling with Andrew at any time.

After supper came and went without much else. Mark seemed to act as though he hoped that Samuel wasn't going to say much more. I was concerned about Samuel since he seemed to be a bit down. But the boys were jabbering about the day.

Then at bedtime, Alex had lost his blankey a few weeks earlier and despite our best efforts, was unable to be found. Well,it seemed that he was especially upset. So, not wanting him to be upset, I looked everywhere for it. When I concluded that once again I was unable to find it, I began to bring him different blankets around the house to soothe him. I brought him almost every blanket in the house, including some that Mark and I use often. Nothing seemed to work.

In the process I brought in one of my most treasured blankets.It was Andrew's blanket that I used to breastfeed him while it sat on my lap. I have had this on my side of the bed or next to my side of the bed since Andrew died. That seemed to freak Alex out. But Samuel surprised me by saying that he would like to have that one.

Well, although my quest for the blankey was not successful, Alex did calm down and fell of to sleep while Samuel asked again for my special blanket. All I could feel was compassion for my son and handed him something I had not shared with anyone else but Andrew. And what he did caught me off guard.

I said good-night to Alex and turned around to find Samuel sitting upright on his bed with his hands out in front of him on the blanket. He took a deep breath and smiled.

"Oh now I feel better." He finally began to lay down. "I just imagined him in my lap. That made me feel better. Now I feel like he's close by and I don't miss him so much."

He pulled it close to his face, took a deep breath as a smile grew across his face. And Mark walked into the room to say good-night to the boys.

"Mom, now I feel much better since I have Andrew's blanket."

Mark got an odd expression on his face, said a quick good night to the boys and walked out of the room emotional. I could tell he couldn't handle it. I gave Samuel a hug and kiss and told him that I was glad it made him feel better and that I loved him.

"You can talk to me and daddy about Andrew anytime sweetheart." I said as I stood up to leave the room while I gave his arm a fond squeeze.

Easter 2011 - Our Only Easter with Andrew

Easter weekend has come and gone.

Last year for Easter we went to my mother-in-law's church. Mark's two older brothers were there along with all of our boys. Well, the boys were in children's church. But we were all there. I don't normally remember one Easter over another. But I remember this one. Because part of our group was little precious Andrew.

He was out on one of his few public outings. And we were brimming with pride. We didn't get to show him off that often. But we enjoyed introducing him to those people that know his grandma. And we all enjoyed passing him up and down the pew. The music was nice - there was a mini-orchestra. I miss hearing an orchestra. And we had Andrew! Our little doll!

Andrew's Marker

Andrew's marker is being made right now. I got the call on Tuesday from the artist working on the main portion of the marker. It caught me off guard. I'm working on new marketing materials for one of my designers,I step away from my desk to get something off the printer and return to my desk to find a vmail waiting for me. Thinking it was just any ordinary business call, I dialed up my vmail and prepared to take notes.

"This is Brian. I have completed your son's marker. Please give me a call to let me know when you can come over to take a look at it."

I quickly deleted the vmail as tears were forming in my eyes. My heart was hurting. I tried to push away the emotion annoyed at its inconvenience. I called a friend and asked her to join me for lunch. I drove. We enjoyed the time away from the office and she joined me at the Art Studio.

Gingerly I followed Kari into the room where the moldings and initial production are done of their products. Nervously I looked around and quickly glanced over a shape I have seen many times in the pdf's I have on my computer at my desk. Renderings provided of the marker's conceptual design. And there it was. Andrew's marker.

It was not complete. It lacked the engraved granite piece that would personalize it. But it was still the shell of the marker.

I ran my fingers over it lightly. The emotions I felt were mixed and strange. I can't even describe them except to know that I felt sorrow and how much I missed my little special. The rest just mingled together below the surface.

How am I supposed to judge if it's alright? If I like it? It's my son's grave marker? It's a necessarily thing. Something we wanted to be special because he was special. But not a monument. And yet, something to tell others a little bit about our little special and our love for him. To tell of our faith.

It's exciting and yet, not really at all.

It's a reminder that my little boy is gone. It's a reminder that I have another event to live through that will be painful.That will be hard on my boys.

And on top of it, Mark told me that some of his family want to be there when it's installed.

While that is kind of them, I don't know what I think of that. I hate going to his grave.

I don't know what to think about this.

Sometimes I wish I could escape this grief.

A String of Nightmares

More nightmares.

I don't want to go to sleep at night.

The other night was a whole string of them. Some were as simple as people continually mentioning Andrew's name. And in the dreams I would start crying just with that.

In other I just kept driving around and around.

But the worse, recently, was paging through a detailed autoposy report that also had pictures. Gosh was that disgusting and cruel. Mark said I kept moaning in my sleep and crying out no throughout the night. I remember waking up at different times and thrashing around in bed (as much as a pregnant woman can anyway) andt rying to wake up but I couldn't. I couldn't wake up to save my life. Mark even tried to wake me and I heard him and I couldn't respond.

At lunch, we talked a bit about it. How I interrupted his sleep. I felt bad and apologized. When I told him the nightmare, he understood completely why I was so disturbed. Kind of like when he tells me he dreams of the boys dying and of finding Andrew's lifeless body. And we stopped talking. What else do you say at that point?

The Hauntings Continue

With an early spring, comes the chirp of the birds, the fresh breeze and the general smell of freshness in the air. Green grass. Flowers blooming. And the beautiful scent of lilacs and other trees that bear flowering blossoms this time of year. And I have been overjoyed to learn that our house has 3 lilac bushes to add to the enjoyment of this fragrant time of year. Gosh if I had only known last fall. But it is a most welcome surprise and delight to add to the blessing that this house is to us.

I continue being pregnant. The baby is now getting to close to 3 months. And Mark and I still waver between being excited and happy to have another little one on the way to being quite uncertain and hesitant. I look forward to holding another little tiny person in my arms again. And yet am dreading having a little tiny person to wonder if they will live very long.

Mark's struggling so much with this one that he's told me we are done. He doesn't want any more kids. He keeps dreaming about our children dying. And then starts crying and says he keeps seeing Andrew's dead body lifeless in his arms. That he can't stand that memory. That he can't seem to erase it from his mind and never will be able to. So he doesn't seem to want more kids because he's afraid all of our children are going to die and he doesn't know how he would cope with that. That's hard, is what I think to myself and try to give him a look that says I care and I am so sorry.

Gosh I hate that he's going through that. I only have the torture of watching the doctors bring him back to life in the ER, standing by his bedside as he lay in a medically induced coma for 48 hours and then the awful moment of learning that he is brain dead and will be removed from the machines soon so that his body can be taken by the medical examiner's office. And that's bad enough.

My memory of holding his lifeless body as his heart beat its last was awful enough. And seeing him turn blue was just horrendous.

But I don't have the horror of finding him lifeless and trying to bring him back to life myself in our apartment. Mark is the one who has that horrible moment etched into his mind for the remainder of his life.

And only God can help him move beyond that.