After the Dust Settles

As I sit here facing another sleepless night filled with tears, my heart feels so heavy. Heavy for my babies, heavy for my friends, heavy for my family, heavy for the unsuspecting person that makes me cry...

Yes, I cry a lot over my angels. I also cry because I feel so distant from society. It's so hard to face the world when you're surrounded by the beauty of new life. Monday, the pregnant lady did nothing wrong, but she made me cry. My heart hurts that I can't overcome the pain, sadness, and anger to celebrate with others. The Facebook pee stick picture could've been an opportunity to share my love for those 2 lines, instead it made me cry as I sat with jealous pain over not having those lines. At one point, Facebook was a source of fun and connection with the outside world. Now it serves as a reminder of the babies who made it and mine that didn't. The pregnant neighbor merely walked out to get the mail. She did nothing wrong, yet I cried!  Yesterday, I stayed busy with a tedious task and came across our DVD from Kaitlyn's first 3 years. Was so excited to watch it and reminisce on her early childhood. I sat and cried not only at the beauty and miracle of her birth, but more so at the prospect of never seeing those phases pass through this home again.  

Last night, my sweet husband held me as I cried. My family and friends have loved me well during these last 7 months. Mike still holds me when I need it. The thought of comforting someone for 7 months straight is overwhelming for me to think about. So thankful for a husband who has put aside himself and held me, long after the dust has settled and most don't see the tears and pain. 

Tonight my husband held me again as I cried and apologized for being in a bad mood this morning. He had no idea my morning started off with me waking to nausea, happens multiple days a month. This morning, it compounded with the sadness from the prior days, made for a rough start to my day. I couldn't help but wish I was still sick and nauseated!  Who does that?  Who wishes to be puking and needing IV fluids?  Me, I am that person!  I am the mom that would sacrifice anything, even yummy food, to have a healthy baby. On the opposite end, people treat theirs and their unborn child's life carelessly while I have 5 angels despite my willingness to sacrifice for their good. 

There are people who I avoid, those with preggo bellies and those with infants. I've stepped out of my role as a babywearing instructor. I have friends that could use help with babywearing, but the thought of seeing them and their babies makes me cry. 

All of this to say, long after the dust settles, there's more to grief life after losing a child. It means crying a lot, avoiding people, crying some more, feeling guilty about being a burden on others, crying yet again, and the guilt of not being able to celebrate with those who deserve it! 

  

The Baseball Game with an Impact

In preparation for a post-church class, we packed a picnic lunch today. The "class" was shorter than we had expected so we took advantage of the already prepared picnic lunch and beautiful weather. What better way to do that than head to the park?!

Our kids were thrilled to be getting an unplanned trip to the park, and the fact that daddy was there made it even sweeter. Mike's work schedule has limited our chance to enjoy many moments like these over the last 6 months. After a long and tiring weekend, we made the most of our time at the park. At one point, Mike was pretending to play baseball on the baseball field adjacent to the park. Forget the slides, swings, and monkey bars- daddy's here and running around. They relished every moment with him and he embraced the fun, despite the sweat and breathlessness from running the bases. This is what childhood memories are made of, those priceless moments that stick in their minds!

Along with our kids, there was a young girl there with her grandma. I'm guessing she was around 2 1/2. As Mike ran around with the kids, she timidly made her way to the baseball diamond to join the fun with the crazy man and wild kids. Mike took the time to include her in "the game". Giving her a chance to pitch as well as hit and run the bases. It was definitely what I'd imagine a pee-wee t-ball field scene to look like. A man attempting to bring order to a field of kids running in disorganized chaos. I alternated between watching in awe and participating as I took breaks to "check in with Kaitlyn". Let's be real though, I was not interested in being sore tomorrow nor did I think running was fun, ever!  

Our guest player seemed to be enjoying herself and her grandma was thrilled she was having fun. Little did we know the impact our time would have on this family. As I was standing to the side, the grandmother thanked me for including her granddaughter. She proceeded to tell me that the girl had just lost her father and she was so thankful that my husband had taken the time to include her. 

Our fun time at the park, in an instant, changed. Not for the bad nor did it physically change. It did however change us and I'm fairly certain that the grandmother left with some joy in her heart from their trip to the park as well. 

In church and at home, we've really been working on showing love and kindness, even when we don't feel like it or when someone doesn't really deserve it. We've had the opportunity to put words to actions recently and it has been amazing. Our chance to "love on" another child was simply an act of playing at the playground and making an effort to be kind and involve others, even strangers.  I definitely got teary eyed when I walked away and thought of how blessed we are to have Mike.  He could have easily chosen to let her play alongside without putting forth effort to include her. What a blessing that we were given a chance to show God's love through kindness to complete strangers.  Even more importantly, thankful for a God who loves us enough to use us as His hands and feet, even in the simplest of ways!

A Rainbow

Our grief following Curtis' death was compounded with infertility problems following the miscarriage. It took 18 months of trying to conceive until we finally got pregnant with our rainbow (what babies after a loss are referred to in the miscarriage community). After 3 months of fertility treatments using Clomid, we finally saw those 2 lines again!  Since miscarriages were rarely reoccurring events, we proceeded with caution but embraced the pregnancy. Arianna's pregnancy was stressful between the history of having a miscarriage and bleeding throughout the first trimester. I was sure we would lose her and feared every bathroom trip. We survived that, only to be faced with preterm labor issues and being on bedrest from September until she was born in February, one day shy of 37 weeks. Our now 5 year old is still a spunky girl with surprises around every corner! 

Since we didn't know how long it would take to conceive again, we decided to try sooner rather than later. Surprisingly, We saw those 2 lines on our first month of "trying". We had our share of issues with bleeding into the 2nd trimester and needing medication to prevent contractions but our little guy made it to 36 weeks and 4 days. He was healthy and the boy I had always hoped for!  Since we knew we would not be wanting another any time soon, I got an IUD to prevent conception. I always wanted 4 but Mike was happy with 3. The IUD would give me time to convince him we "needed" one more before making any permanent birth control choices. 

As we carried on with our family of 5, I began a journey to becoming healthier and living a cleaner lifestyle. As I was traveling this journey, I was seeing a Dr regularly to monitor my progress. Just a few days prior to an appointment, I called to see if she wanted to get some hormone levels drawn. I had been bleeding for 2 weeks which was not normal. She said the only thing she would probably do is check a pregnancy test. There's no way I was gonna wait to for my appointment to check so I bought a test, assuming it would be negative. I was shocked to see those wonderful 2 pink lines that day but feared it was already too late. I immediately called my OB who scheduled me for a scan and labs later that day. Since I "had an IUD", there was concern about its location since I was pregnant. The scan showed we had already lost our angel and that the IUD was no longer I place. Even though I only spent 8 hours hoping for her and dreaming about her, our hearts were devastated at the news of another loss. Aubrey should be turning 1 next month!

Since I typically need medication to help sustain pregnancy during the first trimester, we just assumed that was the issue. My Dr ordered labs to check for other issues since it was my second loss. When we received the labs, I was encouraged to find out that almost everything was normal. There was only one abnormality that shouldn't cause pregnancy issues. The hours spent thinking we were pregnant, was enough to give hubby the desire to have another. I was ecstatic to think that we'd start trying, find out early, and start necessary medicines to have our 4th and final earthside baby. 

Just a few months later, we saw the 2 pink lines again. We were torn between elation and fear but embraced it as everything should go smoothly since I started my meds early. Sadly, we never had a chance to see our sweet baby on the ultrasound screen. Despite being on my meds, my hcg levels didn't rise and the bleeding started. How could this be?  Things were supposed to turn out perfectly and we'd have the life and family I had always wanted. Maverick would've been due in August- the summer baby I always wanted. We live in FL and as a somewhat obsessive fanatic for birthday parties, Maverick was supposed to be my chance to finally throw a pool party one day. As I've said so many times before, those dreams began the moment the 2 lines show up. He was only with us for a week but in that short time, I was already celebrating his summer birthdays to come. 

Several months after losing Maverick, we found out we were expecting again. Given my history, we were seen early and often. Labs were monitored. I was started on my progesterone as well as precautionary aspirin even though my clotting labs seemed normal. Dr said it couldn't hurt to take it. We started seeing a midwife in addition to my OB because we planned to have a home birth. My normal pregnancies issues were present but we saw a heartbeat!  We saw it on multiple occasions and heard it countless times. The dreaded risk for miscarriage was reduced to a minimal when we celebrated the presence of a heartbeat! We also decided to not find out the sex until birth. What an exciting way to celebrate our last pregnancy! 

There's so much about her pregnancy that I remember because I was halfway through when we lost her. Paisley's story is in my first blog post, "Where to Start". I still look back and wonder what went wrong. What could I have done, or not done, to have changed the outcome?  Regardless of how many times I remind myself that I didn't kill our sweet girl or that I couldn't have prevented her death, I'll always carry that burden in the back of my mind. I was her source of growth and nourishment and somehow, someway, I wasn't enough. There's a constant struggle with feeling like a failure. Yes, I have 3 beautiful children, an amazing husband, and a life that many could only dream of having. That doesn't change the fact that my body has failed 5 times in one of its most important functions, producing life!  How does a woman get past that?  I still don't have those answers!  

Every Line

We have 8 children!  Three are earthside and 5 are angels. Statistically, 1 in 4 women will suffer a miscarriage. Only 1% of women trying to conceive will suffer recurrent pregnancy loss. I am that 1%. That harsh reality doesn't make my heart hurt any more or less. It does however, motivate me to speak out about my story. Before we openly talked about our miscarriages, we rarely heard about people who had experienced one. Why is something so common, so silently suffered?  It is the greatest emotional roller coaster I've ever experienced. Sharing my story won't bring my babies back but I refuse to let their lives go in vain. I hope and pray that my journey can bring comfort to someone suffering similar circumstances.  

I mentioned Paisley was our 4th angel, but the first requiring delivery. All 5 of our angels have names!  Curtis, Aubrey, Maverick, Paisley Jane, and Carly Rose. We feel so strongly that they are part of our family, whether they were present for a day or until we leave this earth. Naming them gave us comfort and gives us a way to talk about them individually. They all have a story which started with a pee stick and a double pink line. Every positive pregnancy test created an instant connection for me as that baby's mommy!  Every line that showed we were expecting, led to immediate dreams that would include our forever child. The next step was always an Internet search for the due date calculator!  Even after we had multiple losses, those things were still instantaneous. As hard as I tried to remain distant with my pregnancies after our losses, it was impossible to deny that miraculous reality- that I was a mom again. No matter how hard I tried to keep my heart protected by "not getting attached", there was no denying the love was there, regardless of my efforts to self-protect. 

Our grief journey began with our second child, Curtis. We were overjoyed when we found out we were pregnant. It was Mike's first experience with pregnancy and I couldn't wait to share the news. After seeing the 2 pink lines, I immediately ran out and bought a Big Sister shirt for Kaitlyn who was 2. We anxiously awaited his arrival home from work that day!  She was running around the house, oblivious to what was actually happening. When he came home, I stood back with camera in hand and watched as she greeted him while sporting her new shirt!  We were thrilled to be growing our family. Things went smoothly for a few weeks until I started having some problems with mild bleeding. No cramps or anything significant but scary nonetheless. We had labs done which all came back normal. The issues continued and we were finally far enough along to have an ultrasound. Our scan showed an empty gestational sac, meaning there wasn't a baby. We left with the hope of not being as far along as we thought and that when we returned in a week, we'd see our baby. What a grueling week that was!  Our second scan confirmed the worst, that the pregnancy never developed further so we scheduled a D&C for May 1, 2008. I was 10 weeks pregnant and would've been due on December 14th. 

I couldn't believe it was happening to me. The doctor told me miscarriages are very common and that I'll likely not experience another one. I found no solace in those words. I didn't want to "not have another miscarriage". I wanted to never have one and not be in the 25%. Mike and I didn't know how to grieve together so we grew far apart during those dark days following our angel's death. I was devastated and couldn't find a way to communicate my pain. He was confused and didn't know what to do with a wife that pushed him away. I spent the majority of the following year grieving in silence about our loss. Even though we had told everyone about our pregnancy and ultimately the miscarriage, it was not a topic discussed with friends or family. 

All of this occurred as I was transitioning between job positions. I was moving from the trauma ICU as a nurse to the NICU. How could this be?  I've just lost a child and now I'm expected to work with babies and care for them. My heart grew bitter as I cared for babies who weren't cared about or born early due to negligence. I became angry that women would harm their babies with drugs and manage to have a baby, scarred and tormented with drug withdrawals upon arrival to this earth. Why were they allowed to have a child and mine was stripped away. I still struggle with those same thoughts, almost 7 years later. 

We honored our angel in many ways. First we named our baby!  We named him Curtis in honor of Mike's mom who died when he was 25. She had ovarian cancer and although she was in remission, she died from complications as a result of her weakened immune system. His mom, Ann, called her IV pole Curtis while she received her cancer treatments. She and Mike had plans to get a dog after her recovery and name it Curtis. It seemed fitting to name our child in honor of her memory. We didn't know if the baby would've been a boy but since we already had a girl, we chose to believe our angel was a boy. 

We bought a garden plaque for our flower bed in the front of the house that reads: "Our hearts still ache in sadness, and secret tears still flow. What it meant to lose you, no one will ever know."  If you come to my house today, you'll find it in the garden, at the walkway to the front door.

We also memorialized him with a ring. I wanted something to carry with me as I carried the emptiness of a childless womb. We had his birthstone placed in my original wedding band that was waiting for a purpose (long story for a different day). What better way to utilize it than to honor our child that was conceived in love!

Since he was due in December, as the holiday and his due date approached, we bought an ornament of an angel holding a baby. The ornament sits on our shelf and every Christmas, even 6 years later, we still put it on our tree!  

Sometimes these small tokens of our love blend into the background of everyday life, just as the pictures on your wall at home aren't always noticed by you. Sometimes they catch my eye and bring a smile as I reminisce on the memories. Other times, they become a source of comfort for me when I think about their absence. Honoring our angels has been very therapeutic in our healing process.

Even though we never saw the little bean develop or the flicker of his heartbeat, he was ours. Our love for him and our dreams for him started with a little pink line and his impact on our lives is one that will never fade!

Where to start?

This blog has been months in the making!  I've been posting notes to Facebook and thanks to my dear friend, I'm stepping out into a new world. I don't follow or read any blogs so this is uncharted territory for me completely. What has lead me here is a grueling 6 months of grief and indescribable pain. My husband and I experienced our 4th miscarriage in August. Paisley wasn't our first angel baby but she was the first one we had the privilege of delivering and holding for 5 sweet hours. She was 18 weeks when we heard those heart wrenching words, "there's no heartbeat." How could it be that she was fine a week prior but now, her lifeless body is portrayed on the ultrasound screen?  Our sonographer had been with us through all 3 of our prior losses and through the pregnancies of our 3 living children. She cried with us that day!  I'll never forget her hugs and the comfort she provided with the simple acknowledgement that our baby was real and now gone. Since we were planning to keep the gender unknown until delivery, we asked if she would scan again to see the gender so we could prepare and name the baby. As hard as it was to see her lifeless body again, we knew we wanted a name before delivery. 

It was my birthday, August 4th, and we left my celebration lunch for the scan. The last words to my worried daughter were, "the baby is fine. There's nothing wrong with the baby, it's just mommy's body is having problems. We will see you later at granny's and bring pictures for you to see."  As we heard the words from the sonographer and I cried out in anguish, I remembered what I had told Kaitlyn. How do I now tell her, mommy was wrong and the baby had died?  We left the Dr's office with plans to return in the morning for an induction. Before going home, we went to mom's house to tell the kids the dreadful news. We cried a lot and I spent the rest of my birthday in bed, alternating sobbing and trying to relish the last moments of carrying our sweet angel, even if she was lifeless. She was ours, created in love and fully loved from the moment we knew she was there. 

Mike shared the news on Facebook. We knew we wanted our friends and family to pray for us and retelling the story seemed overwhelming. So thankful he made the post and opened the door for tons of prayers and support. By sharing on Facebook, he began something that has ultimately led me to this blog. We shared our story that day- a story that led others to share theirs, whether publicly or privately. Every single comment and story shared was much appreciated as we tried to navigate through the days, weeks, and months ahead. 

How do you prepare for a trip to labor and delivery, knowing you'll leave without your baby?  As we began processing the news, we knew we wanted to have as many memories as we could of our precious angel. We had already chosen Paisley Jane as the name if we had a girl. Jane is my grandmother's middle name. I still remember telling my granny how hard it was to think that Paisley was supposed to carry her name for years to come. Looking back now, I know Paisley will carry her great-grandmother's name, just not how we had envisioned. 

As I packed my bag, I knew I wanted comfortable clothes to come home in but also knew that putting maternity clothes on would be too traumatic. I found some comfy, non-maternity clothes and a t-shirt. We had planned for Paisley to be born at home. How could I make this experience more relaxed and provide some natural comfort in a time of being surrounded by the medical equipment I had longed to avoid? I packed my diffuser, some oils, and my Rescue Remedy. I wasn't sure how they'd play into the day ahead but I was grasping for some comfort in the midst of the nightmare. The last thing I packed was my Heaven's Love woven wrap. For those that don't know me, I am obsessed with babywearing and wrapping was my favorite way to carry my youngest. This particular wrap was created by the babywearing community in honor of a mama who lost her preemie son. The colors of the wrap were the same colors on his ducky blanket that covered his bed in the NICU. I followed her story and knew I wanted the wrap to commemorate our first angel, Curtis. Now it not only commemorates the legacy of all angel babies, it also bares the blood stains of our precious Paisley.

Besides the name and packed bag, I knew we needed a photographer there to capture the few precious memories we'd have with our daughter.  Through Mike's Facebook post, a sweet aquaintance reached out and offered her services. Someone I barely knew, had only met on a brief occasion or two, offered to spend her time and give of her talents in our most desperate time. I am eternally grateful for Lisa's sacrifice and gift. She captured our most precious and tender moments and did so selflessly. Because my body was not ready for delivery, the induction took 18 hours. She arrived and spent more than 12 hours at our side. As a doula and birth photographer, her presence was invaluable.

As we arrived in labor and delivery, we were treated with such compassion and love by the staff. The nurses and staff, whose daily job was to bring life into this world, took Mike and I in and held us through what had to be difficult for them as well. We never once felt like Paisley's life was any less important than the other lives they touched. They provided us with a memory keepsake box that included footprint cards, offered to take pictures, and most importantly, they called her by name!  They made a certificate for her album and it included her full name. Just hearing our sweet angels name, brought such comfort. With my youngest, I suffered a spinal leak and felt like death for multiple days. Because of that experience, we had decided to just do a home birth since we didn't want an epidural. Here we are, in the hospital, facing life's most intense emotional pain. As much as I feared another epidural, I feared the physical pain would have been more traumatic. I resistently got an epidural and it stopped being effective before delivery. My second epidural took 2 attempts to get right. Just adding more injury to insult. Never wanted another epidural but here I was, getting stuck for a 3rd time. By this time, I'm beginning to lose my faith in God's goodness. Not only has He taken my baby, He's now throwing my other desires out the window as well. 

With the epidural in place and nightfall approaching, we sent mom home to be with our other kiddos. I got some medicine to help me rest in preparation for the emotional storm that was coming. After a few short hours of sleep, the Dr came in and found I was ready to push. My regular OB was out of town. I forgot to inform his partner how effective I was at pushing. She sat at the end of the bed and didn't even put me in stirrups. With one small push, Dr Glas was surprised by her swift arrival. She scrambled to put another glove on as she prepared to let us hold our angel. She even let Mike cut the umbilical cord. We stared at her perfect, lifeless body!  Still unsure of how or why we were there. Definitely unsure of how we'd survive the days ahead. Five short hours!  How does one embrace a child who's supposed to be there until you're old and gray in just 5 hours?  We spent those hours embracing her, kissing her, talking to her, inspecting her tiny and perfect 10 toes and 10 fingers. I held her against my chest where she was supposed to lay and nurse for years to come. We took a nap with her, so minute in comparison to our youngest who spent several years in our bed. How could this be?  How can we have such love for our children and be stripped of the precious memories and joys that come with being mommy & daddy?  I still don't have those answers!  What I do know is that Paisley Jane has left an unforgettable imprint in our life and the lives of our children. I still struggle with the "why us?". Some things may never be known on this side of heaven but I do know that I held an angel that day, August 6, 2014. Heaven sent us an angel and I held her. I carried her for 18 weeks and held her in my arms. I take comfort in knowing her Heavenly Father is holding her but it doesn't make me miss her less. She escaped this world's earthly pain but that doesn't take the grief and pain away!  This is just the outskirts of our journey and I look forward to sharing more in the days ahead. 

I'm So Sorry- A Facebook note from 2/14

Went to a store at Oakleaf today with my sister and my 2 girls. As we were leaving, we see a guy pulling a stroller and holding a gas can. We pull over and ask if he wanted us to go get the gas for him so he could get the baby out of the cold. He gladly accepted the help and told us where he was parked. He seemed upset and mentioned he just got a c...all that his brother was dead. We left to get the gas and didn't even know what to think of the situation. As we approached the van, he was almost back to the car and visibly shaken. I poured the gas in for him while my sister and girls stayed in the car. When I asked if there was anything else I could do for him, he responded with the all too familiar words "only if you can bring the dead back". Oh how I've thought those exact words and probably even spoken them on more than one occasion. Oh the pain of life changing in an instant! I asked if he had someone to be with him and if he was ok to drive home. He said someone was coming to the house and that he was only a few minutes from his house and would be ok to drive. As I went back to the car, I see him clinging to his son, sitting on the ground, sobbing. My sister agreed to let me drive him home and follow close behind. As we drove to his house, he told me that he was hoping it wasn't true. He knew his younger brother was going down a bad path and he had hoped it would lead to jail, not death :(. He wasn't sure what to tell his mother. He said she was on the way to his house and was scared she would beat the cops there and find him dead. His story continued in today being his 2 year wedding anniversary. His wife is divorcing him. He has been drug free for 6 months and his wife won't give him another chance. He then says, this isn't making it any easier. I'm sure his body is craving for the escape that drugs provide. I reminded him that no matter what, even if his wife never takes him back, he has a son who needs him clean. I can only hope he remembers those words in the days and weeks ahead as he attempts to navigate the new normal of life without his younger brother. His life is falling apart around him and I'm a total stranger, given very limited time to impact his life and moment of grief. Here I am, the should be expert on grief, faced with a seemingly impossible to answer question... "What do I say?" There are no 2 griefs alike. Not matter how different or similar your circumstances are, one thing is certain- no two people grieve alike and the same person doesn't grieve the same every time. What do I say?! The only thing I know to say... "I'm so sorry". There are no words in that moment to heal the hurt and shock. There's nothing I can do to change what has happened but I can let him know that I'm sorry about his loss. Did I cause it? No. But something about I'm so sorry seemed to make me feel validated in my pain after losing our babies. That my grief was recognized as something worthy of acknowledgement. I don't know where this man's road will lead but I can only hope and pray that he forever remembers that I'm sorry he lost someone he loved. That his brother, no matter the life and path he was on, was worthy of the acknowledgement as a person and life. As we pull up to the house, he runs to the officers and gets confirmation that his brother is dead. He comes over to the van where I'm sitting with his son (probably 16 months old) and says he'd take it from here. Once again, I tell him I'm so sorry. He gives me a hug and sobs on my shoulder for about 30 seconds. How I wish there was some magical way to alleviate the all too familiar pain of losing a loved one! As I'm walking to my sister's car, he drives off, away from the house. Since he had a young child with him and didn't seem in a condition to drive, I walked over to let the officers know. They suggested that I call him and try to see if he'd return. I'm sure the officer thought I was a crazy lunatic when I told him that I didn't know the man. I only helped him get gas and get home because I was concerned about the child and his safety. As I'm walking away, the mother pulls up to the house. Since it was technically a crime scene, she wasn't allowed on the property. I witnessed them informing her that her son was deceased. I saw her drop face first to the ground in terror and anguish. This woman I've never met, but I felt so much heartbreak for her in that moment. The overwhelming pain of losing a child. I couldn't help but flashback to those dreaded ultrasounds where we heard "there's no heartbeat". She had received that very news about her grown son. There I stand in shock and once again, speechless. I muster the strength to say the only thing I knew, "I'm so sorry, mama. I'm so sorry". I couldn't leave out the mama part and I don't know why. Being called mama in regards to a child who's no longer earthside seemed to help me in my grief. Whether it was because my babies never made it earthside and I found comfort in being acknowledged as their mom or if it was simply being called mama, even in reference to your dead child. At one point, she looked into my eyes and I almost lost it. The pain in that moment was so real and again, I could only say "I'm so sorry". I'll never know if my words impacted these total strangers but I know the experience will forever live in my memory and hopefully touch the heart of my 9 year old who witnessed the entire thing. As we left the house, she began to ask questions. We had the chance to talk about how our actions and words will most likely be forever remembered by the man we helped. She asked questions about why they didn't take him to the hospital and why they weren't allowed to go inside. It gave me a chance to talk to Kaitlyn about how he most likely died from making bad choices- the choice to use drugs and too much. She said that's why she's never gonna smoke or do drugs. I can only hope this memory comes to mind if/ when she's given the chance to "just try it". As we get closer to home, she expresses concern about it getting dark before she's had a chance to shoot her new BB gun from granny & papa. We had the chance to talk about how I really want her to shoot it and partake in the activity with her. Then, we talked about the possible life changing effects of our actions. Would I be bummed if she didn't get to do what she's been anticipating all afternoon? Yes! She and I agreed that helping him was more important and that the gun will be there even if she didn't get to use it tonight. The chance to help this stranger helped show her heart, and mine, the importance of loving others, even strangers. I hope we will never be the same after today! I hope the strangers received a glimpse of love from strangers in possibly one of their darkest moments. I hope my daughter sees Christ's love played out in an act so simple yet impactful. I hope the child is given a chance at a bright future because a stranger cared enough to help and remind his dad how much his son needed him. I hope...

My Motto- Facebook note from 2/11/15

Friday was Paisley's 6 month birthday and today is Carly's 2 month birthday. Arianna's 5th birthday was on Sunday. What an emotional roller coaster to navigate. Celebrating the miracle of Arianna's birth while mourning the passing of 6 months without Paisley and 2 months without Carly. Knowing I'll never host a birthday party for any of my angels is so hard to accept. Now that the hustle and bustle of party planning has ended, my heart is so heavy. I've spent several days trying to stay busy and be strong. Finally took time to sit with my pain last night and stop pretending that I'm ok. Spent an hour alternating between sobbing and talking with Mike. Listened to the recording of Carly's heartbeat for the first time since she passed. So glad to have that memory but so painful at the same time. Talked about how much we regret not having pictures or footprints with her. Listened to our angel baby songs which continued the sobs while I held Paisley's blood stained blanket. I want to hold her, not her blanket. I want to kiss and snuggle my babies not just hold their memories in my heart.
The hurt continued to consume my heart today so I busied myself with more tasks to make it through the day. This afternoon, I had a house full of neighborhood kids. At one point, there were 8 kids running amuck in my house. My heart was so full having the wonderful chaos. Couldn't help but think that it should be like that all the time if all 8 of my babies were here! Told my sweet friend that if I can't have more of my own, I'll just have to borrow some from the neighbors. So hard to live with the pain of not feeling like my "quiver is full". I continue to stand by my motto: some days I'm ok, other days I'm not. Either way, I'm ok with where I am that day! Today, and the last few days, have been not ok days. I know every day holds new adventures and love so I'll wake up tomorrow, ready to look for the beauty in life and be ok with where I am. 

6 months- Facebook note from 2/6/15

As I sit here, an hour away from sweet Paisley's 6 month birthday, I can't help but think about all of our angels, even Curtis who would've been 6 in December. Only taking into account the events of this past year, we should have a 10 month old (Aubrey), a 6 month old (Maverick), a 1 month old (Paisley), and be 22 weeks pregnant with Carly :( I don't even know what to say in addition to that! It has been an extremely trying week. The joy of my middle turning 5 on Sunday, is overshadowed by Paisley's birthday and the heartbreaking reality that I'll never be able to throw a party for her or our other angels. I am so thankful for the 5 hours we did have with Paisley and they will be cherished forever. Those 5 hours were no where near long enough. I should have years of holding her. Instead, I can hold her ashes in a box or cuddle her blood stained blanket. The harsh reality that her scent no longer remains on her hat has been quite an emotional blow . Another piece of her that I feel has been ripped away. I found such solace in her smell and now it's gone, forever. Better days are ahead but for now, I sit in my grief and remember the love that was involved in Paisley's creation and the love we felt from the moment we knew she was there! Not a day goes by that I don't miss her and long to snuggle her and kiss her. Please keep us in your prayers as the next few days will be especially challenging!