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. 

The Dancer - Andrew

The marker was installed last week. Gosh that seems weird. His grave was temporarily marked by this plastic thing until last Friday. Now it's finished. We will hold a private ceremony and that is pretty much our last official thing I guess you could say to close out that chapter of our life as a family. I still want to make some kind of memory box or something for the little guy. A photo album. Maybe a video.

Then his dancer will come to our house to be with us. The funeral home has a ceremony every summer in their butterfly garden to honor children that have died. An artist makes a steel dancer with your child's name carved into it for you to have. It's donated by a local group. We missed it the first year for some reason. I felt so sad that we didn't get a dancer that I talked to the funeral home and they sent us another invite for this year's ceremony.

Mark didn't want to go. We had other plans that weekend that he wanted to adjust and just forget about this. That broke my heart. For some reason, I wanted to do this one. We've ignored the other memorial events that funeral has offered. This one seemed special to me. Nice. I wanted a dancer with Andrew's name on it. Like he was dancing around.

So I told Mark that I was doing it. I needed to and I would see if I could find someone to go with me if he wouldn't. Inside I was so deeply hurt that he might not go but didn't express it. I know his way of grieving so differs from mine and wanted to allow for that even though I knew if he didn't show up, it would offend me and hurt me so much. That I would be very upset at him for it and really struggle with forgiving him over it.

Well, although I know he wasn't thrilled, he said he would go. We'd bring the boys and we'd do it since it was that important to me. I was so grateful and the hurt began to subside.

That ceremony took forever it seemed. 30 minutes of sharing poems, listening to songs and then each family lighting a candle and saying our special person's name to honor our loved one. I cried almost the whole time. The boys did pretty good staying still and quiet as I wished for the time to pass. I just wanted the dancer and to go. When they finally released us to find our dancers, I beelined for the door with the boys following closely afterwards and quickly I saw Andrew's dancer and about lost it completely. We took it out to Andrew's grave and I told Mark we would bring it home to be with us after we dediate the marker. I wanted something of Andrew with us. He didn't argue but I don't think he really wants this.

Life Since the One Year Anniversary

It's been a few months since I have blogged. The grief isn't so bad since a few weeks after the one year anniversary of Andrew's death. In fact, last week when someone asked me how many boys I have, I said 3 without hesitation and didn't feel an ache inside that I didn't count Andrew. But I still think of Andrew at those moments and think that they just don't know that there is another that I don't mention because it gets too awkward if I do. And I don't like people feeling all weird when Andrew is mentioned. So I give into the social convention knowing the truth inside. Well, a dear friend of mine that was there at the time knew the truth. I wondered if he thought of that when I answered the question?

I am now 9 months pregnant with a humongous belly that hangs down and I move a lot slower than I prefer. Since learning that I am pregnant with a dear girl, the pregnancy has been easier to handle for both Mark and I. I don't cry at each prenatal visit any more. And I don't compare Andrew's pregnancy to this one any more. I suppose it helps that I have reached week 36 and Andrew was coming home at week 36 from NICU. So now we're on usual ground of me getting really huge and walking, actually waddling, slower and slower with each week. She is being carried low so it's hard to walk and stairs are even more tricky. I am more exhausted than I remember ever being before with the others. Working a 42 hour week, my slightly advanced age and the boys means I sit down and fall asleep sitting up frequently after supper at night. But other than that all is well. I am healthy and baby girl is doing fine.