what to expect

no, this is not the textbook version.  There is no textbook for this.  I took a pregnancy test this morning.  I didn't expect anything, I just did it out of habit.  I usually take one right around 'that time' every month just because, well, because I don't like surprises.  But this test was different.  It was a different brand.  I took it, like usual, then started my morning routine.  I glanced at it a few minutes later, as usual, before I would usually put it in the garbage.  When I looked at it, I didn't understand it.  Seriously.  I was used to looking for one or two pink lines.  This one had a blue plus, and then another line.  What does that even mean?  A little curious, but still not thinking anything, I googled it.  On my phone.  From the bathroom.  I have had 4 babies, but you would think this was my first time taking one of these.  My brain couldn't process it.  I found the brand, then the 'how to read your test' link.  I froze.  Wait, what?  I'm PREGNANT?  I do a little mental math.  5 1/2 weeks.  I think.  It's what I wanted, right?  I think so.  Then a million questions and doubts flooded my mind.  How could I do this all again? What if something happens again?  9 months is a really long time.  Too long.  My brain went numb the rest of the day.  No more thinking.  Denial.  Pretend it's not happening.  I told only one person, a friend and fellow angel mom.  And I cried.  Partially happy tears, but mostly scared out of my mind.  More scared than I have ever been at the top of a really long roller coaster.  There is no What to Expect for moms like me.  There is no normal once you have dealt with the reality of losing a baby.  I am excited to hold another baby, I am excited for my kids to have another sibling.  I am excited for my 5th baby.  But this is not like any of my other 4 pregnancies, this is different.  No nesting, no anxious anticipation and calculating due dates and planning boy or girl coming home outifts.  Bringing a new baby home, what was that even like?  I can't remember.  That seems like a dream, like an impossible reality.  I have done that before, 3 times, but that all seems so long ago, and clouded by the memories of leaving a hospital emptyhanded.  Even now, as I get ready for bed, I begin to doubt.  It was probably wrong.  I will take another one in a few days.  This is going to be a long 9 months.  Deep breath, listen to my friend.  It will be okay.  Just take it one milestone at a time.  12 weeks.  20 weeks. 38 weeks (they will do my c-section 2 weeks early because of the type of c-section I had with Miles, there is not a doctor in the country who will do a VBAC on a classical c-section - and yes I googled that just to be sure.  The risk of complications from going into labor are high, so 38 weeks it is).  That's too far for now, one milestone at a time.  12 weeks.  I can stay sane that long.

*(edit 2/28/13) I wrote this the day I found out I was pregnant, but I never published it.  For anyone who cares to read, this is what every day of the next two months felt like.  Only to have it end in disappointment. 

2012 Christmas Cards and a Year in Review

Dear Family & Friends,

       As I prepared to send out Christmas cards this year, I thought long and hard about the letter I would send with them.  What would I write, how would I say it?  I tried several times, but nothing sounded right.  I finally decided not to do it.  I can't write the usual family update this year.  Instead, I put our blog link on our card, so that those who want to can read all about our family this year.  I don't mean that to sound ungrateful, we have been watched over and have been truly blessed this year, far too much to express in one single letter.  Here is a short review, with links to blog posts about some of them.  McKinley turned 8, and chose to be baptized a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints just a couple of weeks ago {link here}. We are so proud of her. She also began playing soccer this year, as well as piano, and drama classes. She is in 2nd grade, and her teacher just raves about her, she excels in every area in school, especially reading (a girl after my own heart :).  Mason turned 6, started playing tee-ball and soccer, as well as taking karate, and began Kindergarten this fall.  He is loving school, loves playing with his friends, and is growing too fast.  Maylee turned 2, and is a little fireball (she has a bit of her dad in her :). I don't know what I would do without her cute little voice making sassy remarks about EVERY thing I do.  On April 1st we welcomed our 4th little one into the world.  We named him Miles Frank Brown.  We were blessed to be his earthly parents for only a few hours before he returned to the loving arms of his heavenly father {link to Miles' Story here}.  We are so grateful for the short time that we had with him, and we look forward to the day that we can hold him in our arms forever.  We are so grateful at this time of year for our children, every one of them, on earth and in heaven.  We are grateful for our families, those who we spend the holidays with, those who live far away and celebrate with us in spirit, and those who watch over us from heaven.  We are grateful for our friends and neighbors who have loved, supported, served, and blessed our family.  We are especially grateful for our Savior, for his sacrifice, and for the promise of a forever family {to read about our family pictures this year click HERE}.  We hope that you have a wonderful holiday season, we love you all!

Love, the Brown Family

For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given

 I have had many different feelings about the first Christmas over the years.  As a child it was a fun story.  As I got older I understood it a little more.  The Christmas of 2004 was just a few weeks after the birth of our first child, and I felt then that I understood just how Mary must have felt as she held her tiny newborn baby in her arms.  How full her joy must have been, I thought.  I was pregnant with each of my other 3 babies during 3 different Christmases, and I felt that I could empathize with mary as she traveled a great distance on a donkey while large with child.  Her circumstances were less than ideal, and I felt for her physical pain.  I also knew that she endured that pain in anxious anticipation of the joy of his upcoming birth.  Soon, very soon, she would hold her baby in her arms and he would be hers.  I thought I understood it then.  This year, however, I think I understand a little bit more.  Mary knew that she was giving birth to a child who would not be hers to raise.  She knew he had a plan, and a purpose.  She knew he would die to save the world.  She carried that burden with her as she faithfully carried him in her womb.  She was no different than you or I.  She was a mother, she had a mother's heart, and she no doubt had hopes and dreams for the child that she carried.  She no doubt held him in her arms as a newborn and wanted to take away the pain that she knew he would experience.  She knew that he would be taken from her too soon, as this was his plan.  Yet she continued in faith.  Every year I learn a little bit more, understand a little bit more of Mary's role in the life of our Savior.  Every year my gratitude increases for her sacrifice.  For His ultimate sacrifice.  I am so grateful for the birth of our Savior, and for the greatest gift of all gifts that have been given to mankind, the gift of the Atonement.  I know that our family will be together again one day, and that we are sealed by bonds that death cannot break.  I know that I am not perfect, nor could I hope to be in this life, but by and through my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, I can be made perfect, and can one day enter into the kingdom of heaven and rejoin my lost loved ones.  And hold my son again.  Because of Him my heart is full this holiday season, and I am grateful.

I like to Look for Rainbows

Today was McKinley's baptism day.  It was a perfect day, and one she has looked forward to for a long time. She is such a sweet, sensitive, amazing girl, I am so lucky to be her mother. She took her decision to be baptized very seriously, and I am so proud of her as she has reached this milestone in her life.   

McKinley and Matt all dressed in white before her baptism

 McKinley's cute friend Lulu (far left) was baptized with her.  Love these cute girls, it has been so great to be in Primary with them.

Amanda did such an amazing job photographing Kinley in her baptism dress, and Kinley loved every minute of being a little model :).  She kept saying she felt like she was wearing a wedding dress.  I love that she is such a girly girl!

 

Beware: photo overload coming!  I wanted to include photos of the details of her baptism celebration.  She was so excited about every part of it, I want her to always remember what a special day it was.  We are so grateful to have such wonderful family and friends to share her special day with her. We did an 'I like to look for Rainbows' theme since that is her favorite Primary song (the actual name of the song is 'When I am Baptized', it fit perfectly :)  A friend from my old ward had just done a rainbow birthday party for her daughter and didn't want her decorations anymore, she generously gave them to us, and they turned out fabulous!  She is amazing, we only added a few touches, and they fit our theme perfectly!

 McKinley is so funny, she had my artistic, creative side.  She insisted that we needed brightly colored fresh flowers for the table.  We ran across these the night before, perfect!  She was so happy!

 More details - thanks to everyone who helped with the food, it was fantastic!

 Display of McKinley's baptism pictures.

 I was recently called as the Primary President in our ward, so this is a new thing I started doing.  There was a stack of hole-punched white cardstock and pens on a table just outside the chapel doors for attendees to take during the break while they wait for their loved one to change into dry clothes.  They could write their testimony or a love note on the sheet and then handed it to me to bind with rings with this cover I had made.  It worked great, and she loves to look through it.  We also made one for Lulu so that they could remember those who shared in their special day.

 McKinley's Grandma Brown used to make a porcelain doll with a beautiful white dress to look like each of the granddaughter's for them for their baptism.  She passed away before Kinley was old enough to get one, and I don't do dolls :), so this was my way of carrying on that tradition.  I made her baptism dress, so for her birthday I made a smaller version of it to fit an American Girl Doll.  I had American Girl dolls, and she has wanted one for some time now.  I told her when she turned 8 she would could have one of her own, so for her birthday this year she got one that looked like her (red hair, blue eyes, it's hard to see in the fuzzy camera phone photo :).  She loves that she has a doll that looks like her, I love that we could carry on something that Grandma Brown started, it was a way to include her in McKinley's day since she couldn't be there in person.

And I had to include Maylee.  Pretty sure she had like 20 cupcakes that day.

 And enjoyed every single bite.

 

Today also marked 8 months since Miles' passing.  I know he and Grandma and Grandpa Brown were all looking down and smiling today as we all celebrated with McKinley.

 

Our 2012 Family Pictures

 

This year I really struggled with family pictures.  I know, not a major crisis, I should be able to let that one go.  But it's the little things.  The little things that are hard.  The little things, little milestones that bring healing.  This milestone was family pictures.  I saw it coming a mile away.  I do family pictures every year.  I love having family pictures taken.  I love coordinating just the right outfits and colors.  I love choosing a location that we haven't done before.  I love our fantastic photographer (who happens to be my lovely and talented niece Amanda).  I love comparing how my kids have grown from year to year.  I love the anticipation waiting for the CD to come so I can pick my favorites and plan Christmas cards.  Christmas cards.  Another little thing.  Another hard thing.  This year has had many of those.  I always send Christmas cards.  I love sending them, I love getting them, I always do Christmas cards.  And so I have been torn.  For months I have debated not doing them, just skipping over the whole season and getting through it.  But that's not me.  That's just one more thing about all this that makes me feel less like me.  And so I resolved to do them.  I would make them work, and I would put my heart into making them perfect (keeping in mind that when you are working with children, one of whom is 2-years-old, 'perfect' is a relative term :).  I tried.  I ordered fabric, planned the perfect outfits to make for my girls, coordinated everyone else's outfits around theirs.  Nothing.  No excitement.  Just that constant reminder that something's missing.  So I decided to try using my creative side to make it work.  I WANTED more than anything a complete family picture.  I only have one, and if you have seen it you know that it's far from perfect.  I treasure it, but it was the day after Miles' passing while we were still in the hospital.  I hadn't showered, my eyes were almost swollen shut, it was awful.  And it was all I had.  I have seen photos done with big chunky frames as props, so I thought I would try doing that, then photoshop my favorite picture of Miles into the frame.  There it was.  A little bit of peace.  But what if it didn't work?  There had to be something more.  I had heard so many suggestions for symbolic things in family pictures; teddy bears, a certain color that you wear every year, etc.  None of them were me.  While at my kids' primary program practice a week before our pictures I was talking to a cute friend in my ward.  Somehow we got on the subject (and bawled like babies), and she said she had a pocketwatch necklace that would be cool, I could find one like it and set it to the time of his birth, with a photo of him inside of it.  It was perfect, and I immediately loved the idea.  I knew just the right people to make it happen, the lovely ladies at Rusted Pearl.  They were fantastic, and did everything to make it look just the way I wanted, and have it done on such short notice.  The pocketwatch idea was perfect.  Subtle, symbolic, timeless, and can easily be incorporated into family pictures for years to come.  It was just what I needed.  A little more peace.  There is no way to bring him back.  No way to make our family pictures complete.  But little things bring healing.  We all wore something that was a little reminder of Miles.  And doing it, trying, doing something hard, it brought a little bit of peace, and a little more strength.  Of course, I find peace in knowing that someday we WILL all be together again.  Someday I will again have a fullness of joy.  But for now it's the little things. 

 (below) A closeup of my pocketwatch necklace open. Yes, after all that, I forgot to set it to 5:12, the time of his birth. I am going to have to re-do just those few closeups... ooops 

(below) I made the girls' outfits and Mason's tie. They all have my Miles & Me tags in them

(below) Where would I be without this guy!

(below) and them!  They are the cutest, I am so grateful to be their mom!

(below) I couldn't resist including this picture of Maylee.  It makes me laugh every time I see it.  She was trying SO hard to force a smile, it was painful :)  Love her!

 

bittersweet.

It seems that is the term I use to describe most things in life lately. Bittersweet. First, let me back up and apologize for my lack of posts lately, it has been a rough few months, and I haven't had anything great to write about. To be honest, I feel like our family blog has turned into my venting place for dealing with my grief. I like the way a fellow angel mom described it, she said (paraphrasing) that it's not all about her grief, but it's a blog about their lives, and their lives are intertwined with grief. That's how it is. It's a part of our lives. There are good things, so many good things, in our life. We are happy and enjoy famiy time and fun activities, and can put aside our grief for awhile, but it's always there in the background. The fun times are so busy and fun, I often don't have the time to stop and write about them. The times that I write are the times when I have something weighing on my mind and need to get it out. That's why it seems that's all I write about on my blog. I just don't want it to seem like it's consuming, it's not. We are happy, and life is good.

That being said, it IS always in the background. Every happy time is just a little bit bittersweet. There is always just a little something missing. Today is McKinley's 8th birthday. Today we celebrated the day that we brought our first baby into the world. We reminisced about that day and joked about how we were so young and had no idea what we were doing. It worked out just fine :). McKinley is an amazing young lady. She is strong, smart, driven, and talented in so many ways. She has chosen to be baptized a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. We are so very proud of her decision. She is an amazing example to us and to her friends. One of today's activities was to bring treats to her class at school and to read with them. McKinley picked her book, one I had read to her once, and informed me that she wanted to read it to her class, rather than have me read it. That turned out to be a huge blessing. The book she read was one a friend had given us after Miles' passing. It talked about remembering those we have lost and looking forward to seeing them again. As she read I remembered why I had only read that book to her once. Blinking back tears I listened as she read. She read beautifully, she is so much stronger than I am. She shared that it is her favorite book because it reminds her of her brother Miles. We did treats with her class, then Mason, Maylee, and I went home to finish birthday preparations while we waited for Kinley to get home from school. As I put the finishing touches on a couple of her birthday presents, I thought back to her last birthday. Then the emotions of earlier came back, and I realized why I had been fighting back tears all day. I remember my excitement last year as I dropped her off at school and left Mason and Maylee with a friend so I could go to my first prenatal appointment. I was a little over 10 weeks along, and couldn't wait to hear this baby's heartbeat. Only Matt and I knew that I was pregnant. I hadn't wanted to tell anyone for a few more weeks, I wanted to make sure everything was okay before we shared our exciting 'secret.' Everything was great, and the doctor sent me home with ultrasound images of our tiny little peanut. I rushed home after, finished setting up for Kinley's party, and the rest of the day I was on cloud 9. After her friends had left, McKinley noticed my ultrasound pictures sitting on the desk in the kitchen. Her teacher (who was due just a few weeks before me) had just announced to her class that she was pregnant, and had apparently shown them her ultrasound pictures. When McKinley saw mine, she said 'Mom, is this Mrs. Wride's baby?' I laughed, then brushed it off, saying 'no.' Then her eyes got big, and she said, 'wait, is this your baby?!?' I was so caught off guard that she had put that together, I could do nothing but stutter for a minute, then say 'yes.' They were all so excited, it was so much fun to celebrate that moment together on McKinley's birthday. Since our kids knew, we figured we might as well tell the world. We announced it to our family and friends that night. That was the night that we wanted to shout from the rooftops that even though I had said we were done after baby #3, we were having one more baby. One year ago. It didn't even occur to me until this afternoon as I finished up birthday plans the significance of one year ago today. That's how it is. It sneaks up on me sometimes. Like today. Today we are celebrating the birth of our oldest child, but at the very same time, in the background, mourning for what should have been. Our lives are intertwined with grief, and so many of our happy times are bittersweet.

Four.

In a conversation with a family member the other day I was lamenting the fact that I only have a few months left of my 20's (although 30 suddenly doesn't seem nearly as old as it used to :) It was a light conversation, and she encouragingly replied 'but look, you have 3 kids, and you aren't even 30.' I looked away as I held my tongue and blinked back tears and in my mind silently corrected her. Four. I have four kids. She didn't realize what she had said, she couldn't know how it stung. It wasn't her fault. And so I said nothing. There are so many hard things, but feeling like little Miles is forgotten, like the world has moved on without him, that is the hardest.

4 months. And yes, we are still alive.

Today Miles would be 4 months old. Time goes by, and we are so busy, but there is not a single minute of a day that I don't think about him. I never actually knew that was possible. Miles has taught me that many things I never thought were possible are in fact very possible. That being said, this milestone kind-of snuck up on me. Usually I know the 1st is coming, and I am counting days, and I know it will be another milestone, and another hard day. Not this time. This one I started my busy day, then Mason asked if today was August 1st (he is counting the says until his birthday on the 12th). I thought for a minute, then realized it was and said 'yes.' Then it clicked. Oh. It's the 1st. Miles would be 4 months old today. He would be rolling over, and smiling, and cooing, and entering my favorite baby stage. And there it is again. The aching feeling, knowing how it should be. Not wishing to change it, but still wishing he could be here. Even for a little while.  And I don't know what it means that I stopped constantly counting the days. I don't know when I stopped, but I must have stopped, because this one snuck up on me. Does that mean I am starting to let go? Do I even want to? These are the mixed-up thoughts and emotions that nobody can prepare you for, or answer for you. All I can do is pray for peace and the strength to accept things as they are. It helps that right now things are so busy. We have been in and out of town and enjoying our summer - which has unfortunately allowed little time for blogging, we have barely had time to breathe. But, we are here, alive (despite the lack of breathing :), and happy and healthy. We are taking advantage of every day we have and loving us some hot summer weather. Happy 4-months Miles, we love you always.

the hard part

I met my neice's sweet new baby Ella Mae last night.  She is one week old, and just the most beautiful and perfect little princess that I have ever seen. I knew coming to California that I would see her, and I was so excited to finally meet her. I knew it would be hard. I held her and snuggled her and loved every minute of her sweet newborn-ness. She was so tiny and fresh from heaven, holding her brought back all of the emotions that I felt holding little Miles the day he was born. No, holding her wasn't hard, it was so natural and felt so right. I could have held her and loved on her for days.  That wasn't the hard part. The hard part came when it was time to go and I had to give her back. And my arms were empty again. The hard part was leaving her in her mother's arms and looking back, longing and thinking that's how it should be.

faith in God

includes faith in His timing.

{sidenote: this is a very personal post, so be nice.  I share some of the things that I have felt in hopes that it might help others who are going through trials as well}

Today is July 1st. Today marks 3 months from the day we lost our little Miles, and 2 years from the day we lost Matt's sweet dad. 2 years ago today the first of a series of unimaginable events began. I vividly recall getting that phonecall while on vacation with the entire family at the Newport Coast Villas. I remember frantically trying to find a flight for Matt and his sisters to get home in time. I remember the anxiety we felt as we all waited to hear if they had made it in time, not fully accepting that his time had really come, still sure that he would pull through yet again. I remember the emotion and tears that were shared (in a hot tub) as we all received the news together that he was really gone. I remember 2 years ago today like it was yesterday. When we first found out we were pregnant with Miles, we considered it our 'rainbow,' our happy miracle after the storm that we had come through. When we found that he would have some health concerns, we held onto that hope. After all, with all we had been through losing both of Matt's parents so close together, and so recently, the Lord wouldn't put us through this as well. When he was born and the doctors weren't very hopeful, I continued to hold onto that hope. After Miles passed on, I will admit that part of me was a little hurt and angry that the Lord would do this to us. He could move mountains, why couldn't this be our miracle that we so needed. I resolved that there must be some purpose, and I wasn't going to be hurt and angry, I was just going to trust in the Lord and begin to heal from yet another loss. As the months have passed, I can begin to see. It had to be this way. We had to go through those trials to get through this one. For many reasons, but mostly for our marriage and for our eternal family. Matt was very close to his parents, and losing them was incomprehensible. It couldn't happen. And then it did. Within 2 1/2 months. But he somehow seemed to be fine. I can remember asking him in the weeks and months following their passing if he was okay, if he wanted to talk about anything, if he even FELT anything, he seemed to be too okay. I would cry at the mention of their names, yet he seemed to go on like nothing had happened. He would just tell me he was dealing with it in his way. I realized that when I paid attention I could see it. He called his dad's cell phone just to hear his voice, only to find it had been disconnected. He kept the cd recording from his funeral in his truck for months (I think it's still there). That wasn't just an oversight, he wanted it there. He loved his parents very dearly, and he missed them, but he just didn't feel the need to talk about his feelings very often. After Miles' passing I had the same thoughts and feelings (only, of course they were a little different, this was our baby, our son, a life that was never even lived), but the process was the same. The crushing grief, constant flow of tears, and that emptiness at every turn. And wondering if my husband even felt the loss. He seemed okay. Too okay. The loss of a child is often followed by marital turmoil and even divorce. I now can see why. Each person grieves differently, and it is hard to understand that. Not understanding your spouse's process easily begins to build resent, build up walls and create distance, and the harbor feelings that they didn't even care. But every time that I would feel that anger and resent creep in, I would remind myself that he is greiving too. Rather than withdraw in frustration and hurt, I talk to him and tell him how I am feeling, even if he doesn't ask. I know he won't, I know that's just how he is. He occasionally shares thoughts that he has had about Miles. One day after practicing baseball with Mason he said he just kept thinking he should be looking forward to doing this with Miles, too. I know he is grieving, just in his own way. I know that because we have been here. I know this is just how he does it. Had we not just been through this process, I would not have understood that. I know that the Lord knows me better than I know myself. That knowledge has brought peace at a time of unimaginable pain. Rather than viewing the series of recent events as being forgotten and forsaken, I know without a doubt that the trials preceeding Miles' passing were a blessing. I know that we needed to go through them to know that we could make it through this. That knowledge and hindsight reaffirms my faith in our loving Heavenly Father, and especially faith in His timing, infinite wisedom, and plan for me. On this anniversary as we remember Frank and little Miles, I give thanks to the Lord for the time that we had with them, however short, and I look forward to the day when we will see them again.

 (above) Mason loved trimming the grass and pulling the few weeds around the headstones

(above) McKinley carefully cleaned the headstones - Maylee usually 'helps' too, but she fell asleep on the way up, so we let her stay asleep this time :)

 (above) I love the view from Grandma and Grandpa and Miles' graves, we like to clean up, bring flowers, and make it look pretty and clean, but we also love to just sit and talk and feel close to our little guy and Grandma and Grandpa.

 (above) after the cemetery we went to visit family for the rest of the day - my kids love their cousins!

 (above) more cousin love

 (above) Uncle Greggy :)

(above) cousin time!

parade and random saturday stuff

AH, I am the WORST at remembering to take pictures!  My girls were dressed in cute 4th of July outfits today and I totally forgot to make them pose for photos, so these are the best we have :)  Last night was our ward's Fathers and Son's camp-out.  Mason and Matt had a blast, they planned their little camping trip all week long.  Matt bought treats, they went to Cabela's to pick up some new camping gear, and enjoyed every minute of it.  When they got there Mason helped Matt set up the tent, they explored and played, and the men did a push-up challenge contest (figures :).  While the boys were gone we did girly things around here :).  We helped a friend decorate her daughter's room, babysat my friend Natalie's cute twins, and then had some cute friends over for a little ice cream party.  Afterwards we watched Soul Surfer and stayed up until 11.  The girls thought it was so great.  Then we got up this morning and dresesed in our 4th of July best :) to go to the Lehi Parade - another highlight that might become a tradition.  They loved the floats, bands, and dancers, and they scored TONS of candy and little prizes :).  Such a fun morning. 

Tonight we got a babysitter and went to dinner at Tsunami (first ever Sushi experience, LOVED it!) with our cute friends.  While we were eating, Shelly (yes, THE Shelly from The House of Smith's) walked in with her family and was seated at the table RIGHT next to us.  My friend Lindsay and I were totally startstruck, giggling like little teenage girls that there was a celebrity sitting next to us (our husbands had no idea what was going on and why we were all excited :).  As we walked out we sucked up enought courage to say 'hi' and tell her we loved her blog.  She was so super cute and nice, totally loved her!  Yep, that's my new claim to fame, I met the famous blogger Shelly (pretty much want to be her when I grow up).  Anyhow, that was our Saturday, pretty exciting (I know, not really, but remember how this is a journal?  It was exciting to me! :)

saying it doesn't get easier

As time passes, some things get easier.  Saying he is gone just doesn't.  I was in my home office working this afternoon when I got a random call from IHC.  The caller explained that she was conducting their maternity care follow-up survey, and so I began tentatively answering the interviewer's question, not sure where this call was going.  She asked my delivery date, what type of delivery, where I delivered, what we named our baby, etc.  Then she asked how much he weighed at birth.  I answered 3 1/2 lbs.  She was surprised and asked how he is doing and if he was in the NICU.  I could barely manage through my sudden rush of tears to choke out 'he passed away a few hours after he was born.'  The interviewer was sweet, offered her condolences and apologized for not knowing before her call, then kindly said she would just close the interview and not finish the questions.  I managed a barely audible 'thank you,' and we hung up the phone.  I sat there and just cried.  For some reason I can think of him and the joy we had holding him, I can wistfully wish he was here, I can talk about him, tell his story, compare his red hair and cute features to my other kids in conversation, and talk to my kids about him and not fall apart most of the time. Having to admit he is gone, having to say it out loud, having to feel by eyes burn and well with tears as I tell a new person that I lost my baby, that part just doesn't get easier.

Mason

This kid totally cracks me up. Seriously. He is pretty quiet, but hillarious at the same time. He is so excited to start Kindergarten in the fall. He has been doing karate and baseball, and LOVES them both. He is not afraid to get out there and play hard and try something new, and he doesn't let other kids' attitudes bug him. He is just an easy kid. He is so proud of his karate belt. He recently earned his first stripe, he loves that he is getting 'closer' to his black belt :) I am looking forward to him moving on to ANYTHING but his white belt. Seriously, who puts a white belt on 5-year-old boys and expects it to stay clean?!!? I mean, the uniform is white too, but I bleach that regularly. Apparently you can't wash the belt though, or you lose all of your knowledge that you have gained in class (?). Really? So they white each other with them, use them as lassos, and hold them in their dirty little hands, and these white belts get filthy. I am SOOO tempted just to toss it in the wash 'on accident' and not tell him... nobody would know, right? :) Haha, anyway, I just love that kid, I wish I could keep him at 5-years-old forever (but he reminds me every day that he will be 6 in just 2 months, oh, time is going too fast)!

(above) playing in the 'rainbow' bathroom - he thought the rainbow prism 'mohawk' was pretty funny :)

 (above) the gross white belt :)  The pic doesn't do it justice, it really is so dirty!

 (above) Mason practicing his karate moves :) 

 (above) stealth ninja moves :)

(above) such a Matt face, he is every bit his daddy's boy!

you can't come out unchanged.

"And once the storm is over you won't remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive.  You won't even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over.  But one thing is certain.  When you come out of the storm you won't be the same person who walked in."

I can't say the storm is over yet, but I can say that I am not the same, Miles has changed my life in ways I couldn't have ever imagined. 

unlikely comfort

I have always had a paralyzing fear of spiders.  Like deathly afraid, can't even move when I see one.  When I was about 10 years old, I remember sitting on the floor in the kitchen putting away pots and pans, when I happened to look up and see a big black spider crawling up the wall.  It FREAKED me out!  I started to panic and yelled for someone to come kill it.  Nobody was all that concerned, this was a usual occurrence, and it was usually a teeny little spider or a 'harmless' daddy long-legs (I don't care how many times people tell me they are harmless, they CREEP me out!).  Anyhow, my mom told me to just squish it.  Nobody was coming and it was getting away, and if it got away who knows WHERE it would go... probably straight to my bed or something... so I made a pathetic attempt to kill it.  I swatted at it with a dishtowel just hard enough to knock it off of the wall and flip it upside down onto the kitchen floor.  Underneath on it's belly was the telltale red hourglass.  My biggest fear, a black widow.  I froze as it scurried under the kitchen cabinets where I had no hope of anyone killing it for me.  I was an anxious mess the rest of the day.  I couldn't focus, I couldn't calm down, and I couldn't even imagine going to sleep with that thing wandering the house.  Nothing my mom said could make it better.  Finally when my dad came home, my mom had had enough and told my dad to tell me to knock it off, I was being ridiculous.  He asked what I had seen, and I told him.  He told me he couldn't do anything, that it was long gone.  What he said next has always stuck with me.  He said, "well, I don't know what you are panicking about, there are tons more of them in this house, I have seen plenty of them in the attic."  I know, it sounds strange, but for some reason that was comforting to me.  There are tons of other ones out there, and they haven't killed me yet, so this one probably wouldn't either.  That was all I needed to calm down and let go.  And yes, I did sleep that night.  So how does this story relate to my life right now?  I don't know if it really does, but I tell you that story to tell you another.  A couple of weeks after Miles' passing I received a letter from a close friend's mother-in-law who had lost a baby a little over 40 years ago.  She shared her feelings and experiences, and said that she to this day still thinks of him, and still misses him.  My first thought was 'really, in 40 years I am still going to feel like this, it's never going to go away?'  But just like the with the spider, it brought an unlikely feeling of comfort and peace.  She had made it 40 years, and she was happy and had a good life, and it hadn't killed her yet.  There are plenty more years of pain and grief ahead, but knowing that they are out there and that they are survivable has brought comfort.

it happened

Tonight I was doing the dishes and watching my cute kids play tag and push each other around on ride-on toys on the deck.  They were up way past their bedtime and enjoying every minute of it, giggling and playing and being just so cute.  I smiled to myself as I watched them, and then I wistfully thought about Miles.  I got that same feeling, that tugging on my heart, that constant awareness that someone is missing.  It happens all of the time.  But this time it was different.  I didn't cry.  I imagined him out there playing with his siblings, just as I have so many times, but that was it.  No tears.  Just a wistful sigh, and then I finished what I was doing and called the kids in to get ready for bed.  I didn't know how I would feel when it happened, when that moment came that I thought about him in that way, but didn't cry.  I didn't know when it would happen, or if, but it did.  It was small, but it was something.  It was evidence that my heart will heal, and I will always be able to keep him a part of my life and think about him, but it won't always hurt so bad.  It was only a small moment, and there have been many tears at other moments since, but it gave me hope.

Father's Day

We are so grateful for all of the fathers in our lives.  Today I am especially grateful for Matt for being such a wonderful father to our kiddos.  He is my other half, my partner in crime, and he makes up for what I lack.  He loves spending time with the kids, and they eat up every second of attention they can get from him.  They were so excited for their Father's Day project/present.  I had seen this idea on Pinterest and I knew they would get a kick out of it.  I pulled out a white shirt and some fabric markers for the kids in the craft room (with the door shut so dad couldn't peek :) and explained to the kids that we were going to make a 'back rub' shirt for Dad.  I drew roads and buildings on it where they told me to, then they spent the next several hours (seriously) coloring it in and making it perfect for Daddy.  It comes complete with a racetrack, road signs, water feature, park, garage, carwash, and baseball field (of course). They were so excited, and SO proud of it!   

And of course, Daddy loved it! They thought the placement of the Gas Station on his lower back/bum was hilarious :)

Now whenever Dad wants a backrub, all he has to do is put on his special shirt and the kids will go to town (literally :) getting it done! :)