A Piece of the Pearsons

11 Months Old today

2012-01-11T17:30:00.000-08:00

Precious little one

"I have two brothers"

2012-01-07T21:22:00.000-08:00

This is what Reese told his buddy today. THey were sitting in the back seat on the way to our house for a play date and Reese couldn't wait to welcome him into our home and play with his toys with his friend. But first you must know about us.... I didn't hear what sparked this conversation...and i was straining my ears to hear them two rows behind me as I drove. I heard Reese say, "I have two brothers." I knew where this was going and the next thing that I hear is his friend say, "where is he?" And Reese said, "Up there" as matter-of-factly as the color of the sky. His friend said something and Reese said, "he didn't get out soon enough." "Out of my mom." "Yeah, but at least we got to see him." "I had a headache that day." His friend said something else and Reese said, "He would be two now."

It feels like a dozen sharp cuts sometimes. I know it's coming. And it still stings. Hearing Reese tell his version of how his little brother died. Tell this story of when he was 3 years old. It tears my heart. It makes me want to vomit. It rocks me to my very core. Just when I think I am used to mothering my child up in heaven and living my daily life......I'm taken back once again. A blow to the stomach as I listen to the story that my little boy tells. The accuracy in even his little version makes the pain so raw. The pain for him....what he remembers....what he felt....what is important to share with his friend...at just 6 years of age. I'm so sorry, buddy. I hate that we lost our baby boy. I hate that you lost your baby brother. I hate that even you in your naive youth have such vivid memories of this tragedy. Yet this is all we have and we must hold tight to our memories. We still have a long journey ahead of us and this story as you see it is all that matters. I promise you you'll get to hold him one day. I promise.

Christmas morning....

2011-12-25T05:40:00.000-08:00

Oh my! We are ready! MOre than ready! Owen is just waking up....which means the house will soon be moving, rustling... crazy! And I can't wait! The kids are so excited. And it is definitely a joint effort. THey have been monitoring Santa's progress diligently and went to bed as soon as they could get done with all their last minute duties. Their Christmas cookies for Santa are adorable!

I can't believe this is the 14th Christmas I have spent with Patric. The 12th Christmas as a mommy (or soon-to-be mommy!), our first Christmas in Colorado.....and our third Christmas without Chase. Time certainly travels fast. The road has been bumpy. The highs have been pretty high and the lows have been as low as they can get. This is the first Christmas in 6 years we have been able to make it what we wanted to and even shop for each other! Because even though money doesn't affect the kids' Christmases, it does ours. In ways only a parent would understand. But we've come a long way.....the packages are plentiful. The tree is lit. (Soon!) the ham will be in the oven. The stockings will be animated first, then the presents. We will eat breakfast eventually. We'll play with our toys. We'll talk to grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins. (I have to add this!--We'll even get texts from friends!) We'll eat our Christmas meal together and play some more, probably watch football and maybe even get a nap in today. It sounds like a perfect day....and it will be pretty close.

But the truth is, no matter how happy and perfect any day or any moment in our lives is....it's always got a little bit of sadness hovering over it. Our hearts, though very, very full, still have a hole in them. Our third Christmas without Chase. I can't believe it. I play in my mind what he would be doing today. How busy he would be. Who he looks like. WHat he would wear, what he would eat, what he would be doing. I miss him so much. It hurts...even at the happiest moments. It's always there...because he isn't.

And that's all I get. Owen is now awake and tugging at me with a very wet (leaking) diaper. I need to add that he touched a hot oven yesterday and burnt two fingers pretty bad......just what we needed on Christmas eve. But I was able to evade the ER after calling the nurse and being reassured that he was just hurting really bad, and, in fact, not going to die. He seems to be over it now! Sure didn't help things last night--made things stressful. But we are headed downstairs. Merry Christmas everyone!

The Winner...

2011-12-17T07:44:00.000-08:00

Thank you all to entered my giveaway this year. I met so many new mamas that I plan on following--a few had 10-month old rainbows so we have something extra in common. This is the kind of support that this community offers: the feeling that you are never alone. There is someone out there that is suffering very much like you and can relate more than you ever wish they could. But this comfort helps us make it through the tough times. And from reading everyone's "scores", I can only offer words of encouragement this holiday season. You are not alone. The holidays are tough for everyone. Some of you will have a 10 Christmas morning. Some are in a place where you are a 2 on Christmas morning. No one is judged. Everyone's feelings are validated. Hang in there. I wish for you peace this Christmas and joy....in any form. Maybe a bright star you see in the sky, a tiny bird alone in a tree, a crisp breeze that kisses your cheek. Our babies are there....everywhere....don't ever doubt that. May this Christmas bring memories that make you smile.

Now for the winner......number 17, Jaime from Butterflies and Rainbows. Please email me or leave me your address in a comment field, Jaime, and I'll get this sent out to you toward the end of next week. Thanks again for stopping by!

25 Days of Giveaways

2011-12-15T18:56:00.000-08:00

Thank you to Tina for organizing this blog giveaway that has helped so many people make it through a very difficult holiday season without some very important little ones in our lives. This year I found this wood plaque with a saying on it that really touches me and hopefully it will you, too. I like having things like this around the house that are mindful of our little boy who left us too soon. It's a nice thought to have, in my opinion, anyway. Please leave a comment giving me a score of 1-10, 10 being the saddest or worst, how you are doing this holiday. I'd say I'm a 4...but Christmas morning I anticipate more like a 6 probably. Which is a big leap from the 10 I felt my first Christmas without Chase. I hope you will be honest and I hope you will find comfort in the other baby loss comments and blogs you are reading. This is truly an amazing community that we all belong to and if it hasn't already, it will help you in your journey, I promise. Thank you for sharing this with me....

I will draw the winner tomorrow nite. Good luck and I wish you all peace, love and happiness this holiday season.

Lucky

2011-12-15T08:55:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I feel blessed but not lucky. Sometimes I feel lucky and don't know what all my blessings actually are....

I was talking to a fellow BLM and dear sweet friend the other day on the phone. She is a little bit farther along on this journey than I am and I have looked to her for some specific help on mine. She has supported me in ways more than she will ever know. And hopefully I have given her the support she needs and comfort when it is not coming from anywhere else. I know a lot of what she is feeling and she knows the same for me.

Almost.

This is her fourth Christmas without her angel baby and my third and we were talking about the struggles we encounter during the holidays....the tears at the drop of a hat....the traditions that are happy but sad....the acknowledgement of our babies that is and isn't there and how to acknowledge them...still. I was telling her how it has been killing me the last few months whenever I see Chase's photos around the house--and I see them All.The.Time. They are everywhere. Not huge photos but little tiny "reminders" posted in about every room. Our bedroom, my bathroom counter, the office, the kids' rooms, the refrigerator door. The one on the refrigerator door is one my daughter put there this summer--a magnet that was in her school locker last year. Its of her holding her baby brother. The photo is a snapshot in time--a moment in time that is dreadfully painful. And whenever I see that photo, I feel on the edge of a very high cliff....one that if I am not careful I'll slip and fall right off of. Those moments were so dark in my memory. So very tragic and so very very painful. For a long time I needed those photos around me everywhere. I needed them to keep him near me. Everywhere I go. To see him....not all those tubes and the machines and the blood. But I saw him as my little boy.

Now when I see those photos I see the moment in time that they were taken. And it reminds me of what a painful time in my life that was. It's hard to pull through that and see our son for the babe that he was. I feel and see that pain all over again.

And then while talking to my friend I realize that I am lucky. So.Very.Lucky. to have those pictures. To have held my sweet boy. To have touched him and felt him and seen him. She never had that privilege and for that I am deeply saddened. I am so very grateful for having those pictures and that thought helps me see past the darkness of my photos. I am very lucky. I wish so badly she had a picture. I'm sure she does in her mind but one to see with her eyes and make a connection. Never in a million years would I have thought that I would be so *lucky* to have pictures with tubes and blood and machines of a very very sick child and that the child would be mine. But I am. And I love them with every ounce of my soul. Thank you to my sister for taking those pictures. Thank you to God for giving me those four days with my son. Thank you to my son for giving us the love you gave us in that hospital room and I am so thankful that we were all with you when you left us that very sad and painful day. Because you felt loved, from the very beginning, to the very end. And that love is still present and felt every day of our lives. ...til we meet again little man.... I love you.

Sleigh bells are ringing....

2011-12-04T13:04:00.000-08:00

It's full blown Christmas around here. We have snow and cold weather and pajama days and all kinds of Christmas spirit. I'm struggling a little bit....with parenting. All my kids. The kids I have with me I find myself wrapped up in spending too much money on them. Yet there is nothing to buy for my little boy who flies above us. I know money is just a number. And I know the kids don't know the value of things, but I find myself trying to balance with numbers. And all that seems to happen is the bottom line gets higher and higher. And then there's Chase. I feel like I am not doing enough to honor him. My heart is torn....only never to be repaired. Buying toys for Owen is so very fun and so much sweeter than it was with the others--because I know what it's like to not have the baby in your arms. I still think of the things that I buy for Owen that I should have for Chase but never got to.

Even reading this post I am disappointed. Sometimes I wish I could take all currency away from this holiday. I wish just for once we could celebrate, truly celebrate and enjoy this holiday without the expense. How different would things be then? I am so grateful for what I have and whom I hold in my heart and in my arms. But do I show it the right way? Do they know that? It's not just the kids, it's my husband--my best friend--that I feel the same way.

I am working on it. I look forward to my day of hosting the 25 days of Christmas giveaways because of what it represents for me--the good it did for me that first Christmas without Chase. I will find more ways. I promise myself I will. This will be the wonderful Christmas that it should be.

Gratitude Challenge

2011-11-10T19:31:00.000-08:00

From Emma's blog.....Since I'm 4 days late on this 21-day trek, I'm going to catch up. And then try to stay caught up.

I am grateful for:
My husband
My health
My children
My angel and the heavens above

A mess...I am

2011-10-23T21:02:00.000-07:00

I've sat down to write this post a few different times...unable to get the words out. No connection to the keyboard at all. As much as I've needed to blog, I have so many emotions going on, when I sit down to do it, my fingers are still. Even now...I struggle. Here goes...

I've been hit by multiple waves lately. I am not sure what is happening in my crazy busy life that is allowing for this but I have been caught off guard a lot the last few weeks, okay, months. I miss Chase. All. The. Time. And sometimes, I miss him so much it hurts. I have really felt on the verge a lot.....like if I look at a picture and think about it too much, I'll go straight down. The pain, the hurt, the aching is just right there...if I let it. If I go back and look at those pictures and all those memories, I can put myself right back in that hospital, back in that NICU, ... and it hurts. A lot. Just like it was yesterday. So I haven't let myself. There was a time in my grief that I needed that. I'd go straight to Chase's box of things and get myself a real good cry. Because that was what I needed. Now, I think I'm scared to. I'm scared to go back there. I've had so many good feelings and so much happiness since Owen that I'm scared to go back to those memories. And feel what I'm so scared of feeling: What it's like to lose a child. What it's like to not bring that babe home. The emptiness. The pain. An aching heart. My sister gave me two boxes of hand-me-downs, some of them which were mine from Reese. I find myself digging around in those boxes for the oldest of the outfits...the ones I had for Reese. Because I. Can. Because I remember the feeling when I couldn't use those clothes....and now I can. They are old and not as good of shape as the others, but they are mine. And I longed so badly to use them for Chase and never got to. And now I can.

I was in a store last week and ran across some cute little Superman.tshirts. They were adorable, so I picked one up for Owen. Then I decided to get one for my nephew. But when I put it in my cart, a 2T, tears came. Out of nowhere. Because that little tshirt should be for Chase. And I would have totally dressed them alike. It felt like I was headed for a spiral and I quickly recomposed myself. I didn't let myself go there. But I kept the shirt. Both of them. One I will put on Owen one of these days. The other one sits on Chase's shelf. That's all I can do.

There have been a couple other times I've been at the grocery store or something and something will trigger some tears. And I quickly pick myself up and dust myself off.....too scared to let myself go back down again. And not sure why. It was healthy for me to face those darkest moments of grief...cry them out...talk about them....and ultimately get through them only to ready for the next one. It's harder now that I have Owen, though because, like I said, I'm scared of losing him, too. I always will be. I know the hurt and don't want to ever put that and the happy emotions of having Owen in the same thought bucket. Ever. It's just too scary.

So I'm not quite sure when I'll let myself get through this wave. Right now I'm just standing here, taking in water. Catching my breath and hanging in there. Just happy to be here. Still standing. But, it's inevitable. One day, it will overtake me. I'll get through it. And keep on...because that's what we do. I miss you sweet boy. I'd give anything to hold you one more moment. I love you so much. I love you SO much.

Happy 2.5 years and Happy 8 months and Pregnancy & Infant Loss Day

2011-10-15T09:53:00.000-07:00

Owen was 8 months this week....Chase would have been 2 1/2. I can't imagine what this household would be like with both of them raising cain......but I want to know so badly. I would give anything for the chaos....and the happiness and joy. We think about it all the time. We also think about so many babies that left this earth too soon. And all the mommies and daddies and big sisters and big brothers they left behind. We are sending love and kisses...and lighting our candle tonight. I love you sweet Chase. I miss you so much little buddy. I can't wait to see you again one day.

It's Been a While

2011-10-12T16:47:00.000-07:00

I've had a lot going on.....the story of my life. Not enough hours in the day most of the time. Owen is a lot to handle....and I'm loving it. The kids are keeping me on my toes. I love days that we have nothing going on, and they do too! October is fun, though; we are having fun decorating for Halloween and fall as the weather starts changing. I have every intention of getting back to my blog, and I really want to make it over. But I had to just pop in and say hi...and show you this picture I found. It brought me to tears. To me, this is Owen and his big brother Chase. The older Owen gets, the more I ache to see Chase's face and how he has changed. His own look. I think he would look a lot like Owen. Anyway, my heart grows stronger....but the hole remains. I love my boys. And I miss you sweet Chase. You are with me wherever I go, all the time.

Never forgetting

2011-09-02T21:42:00.000-07:00

The kids are always remembering and talking about Chase, every chance they get. Being very careful about how they share their brother's story and who they share it with, they are still very comfortable mentioning his name or talking about him in school as if Chase is living in our house, sharing our physical lives as well as spiritual. I am getting used to these things.....things that used to take my breath away or catch me off guard, now are "normal" occurrences. However, sometimes, there are still things that make my heart skip a beat....or send me particularly comforting feelings. This, for instance, is a picture Reese drew today at school.

Reese's class was talking about freedom today and the teacher asked them to draw a picture of what freedom is to them. Reese's picture says "freedom is to sleep in" (which he asked me tonight to please, PLEASE, let him sleep in tomorrow morning). And then the picture he drew was of a bunk bed with three bunks so he and both of his brothers could all have their own bed. (Of course Reese has the top bunk. Chase is on the bottom and Owen is in the middle.) I thought it was so cool that he thought of both of his brothers equally like this. And I think he does almost all the time. I wish I could. I wish I could act like Chase lives with us...physically. I do sometimes; I have images in my head, but with Reese's picture, I can almost envision it. I am so thankful my little boy knows both his brothers.

This is Karly's picture that she drew to decorate her Friday Folder:

A rainbow, a butterfly and the sun. Beautifully colored. She said it was a picture of all the things that make her think of Chase. I am thankful for these things. And Emma shares her brother at school, too. She wrote a story about a little girl who lost her baby brother when she was nine years old. This little girl climbs a mountain and on the other side sees nothing but sweet beauty and all good things....something she refers to as Heaven. Right now, she's at 9 pages...don't know how long it will be!!

I love my kids with every beat of my heart. I'm so lucky to be their mom. All five of them.

First flag football game

2011-08-31T13:27:00.001-07:00

Bandits Flag Football 1 from Christy Pearson on Vimeo.

Reese's 1st Flag Football Game in Carbon Valley

I Remember When

2011-08-22T12:28:00.000-07:00

....my arms used to ache from being empty. Some days I hold Owen and hug him.....and remember those days. I never hugged my other babies this way. I'm glad I never had to. I remember the pain from the emptiness and there was nothing I could do about it. I just held Chase in my heart. Now I feel what it would have been like with Chase in my arms....and my heart aches again, a million times over. I will never stop missing my baby boy. And I thank him for sending us Owen. When I see Owen's quirky little smiles as he looks at my tears, I know Chase is behind it all. They have somethin' on me. I know it. I love you Sweet Chase.

Tough Week

2011-08-20T06:59:00.000-07:00

We had alot going on this week. Thankfully Patric was here to help with it all. Unfortunately we spent half of the week not talking much because of an argument and I really hated this because I knew I would need him for the deposition--I would need him to be there for me when I was weak and stumbling. And he was. We talked through our "spat" and got "us" fixed again....just in time.

I don't want to get into the deposition very much other than to "vent" about the whole purpose of this lawsuit from our perspective versus anyone else's. Like the attorneys, for example. I had met a few attorneys in our pursuit to find one that would represent us and those experiences were not pleasant, mostly given the circumstances. One of the attorneys was completely heartless when he spoke to me and finally told me he couldn't represent me because he didn't think we could prove negligence.....all the while his wife was having a baby any day. Ouch. The attorney that we did chose is very good and friendly, respectful of our sensitivity to the topic and his firm seems very nice whenever I speak with them. However, when I went to the deposition, I quickly learned the business of this lawsuit. And it started when our attorney was telling me the "important" points in our case. And when I told her things that led up to that or details that surrounding these points, she said "but none of that matters, stay focused" and I just looked at Patric with tears welling up and said "but it all matters, every second of every bit of this matters". I can't understand it, but I start to see it for what it is...

There was no human factor to anyone but me while I was in that room. This is a job for them and when the day is done, they go home to their kids and my dead baby means nothing to them. I don't know why I would expect that--this is a job after all. To me and Patric, however, this is about our baby boy and we go home at the end of the day, we only get to see his picture....and hope and pray we said the right things to the attorneys that will allow us to live proudly and with the same dignity we had before we walked into that deposition. And if the cards are played right, we will get the satisfaction of knowing that what this doctor did to us will not go unnoticed and will not be allowed to do the same thing to anyone else. But this is a game. And while our stakes are our dignity and grace and peace, the stakes of the attorney are the money of the insurance companies. And we are merely pawns in that game. They never knew my son. I don't think they have even seen pictures of him. They don't want to, though. They don't want to make this job of theirs "human" when it involves a death or loss. That would be too painful. Too real. To them it remains a job, a profession with an end in sight. Something we will never be satisfied with....the end to this story.

Growing up, my dad was a volunteer fireman for our community and I remember him going through weeks and weeks (or it could have been months and months, I don't know) of schooling to be an EMT, too. There was a siren in town that would sound off in code (one siren meant something, two sirens meant something different and so on) in our town and he would rush to the town firestation and prepare to go out on the call, whatever it was--a fire, a car accident, a farming accident or whatever. Being a small community, a lot of the time he knew the people who's call he was going to. One day he went out on a call and it was a 5th grade classmate of mine's house. Dad arrived at the scene with the ambulance to find blood everywhere in the house and a young boy on the floor, lying there lifeless, dead of a shotgun wound...by accident with his cousin, also in my class. Since there were only 13 kids in my class, we knew him well. I remember my dad coming home from that call and taking me in his bedroom and telling me what happened--that my classmate had died. Dad was very upset, I could tell. And that was the last call he went on in the ambulance. He quit that job (it was a volunteer job) because it hit too close to home to him. The human factor of his job when he saw the trauma of a kid the same age as his own was too much to handle and he couldn't remove this from his mind anymore. Unlike the attorney's. I wonder if there are any attorney's that represent malpractice cases that have lost a baby due to the negligence of a doctor. And I wonder if that experience makes them better attorney's when representing someone who has gone through what they have. It's kind of like talking to a nurse during your labor and delivery of your rainbow baby and finding out she, too, lost a baby and she, too, had a rainbow. You know she knows exactly how you feel. As her patient, that comforts me. WIthout her even having to say a word. I know she knows. But the legal system doesn't require such. Apparently you don't have to be human, though it would be nice. It might make this process more than just a transaction.

First Day of School

2011-08-15T16:29:00.000-07:00

Today was our first day of school. All of us were a bit anxious about the whole thing. Each for our own reasons...but some of the same, too. We have a couple short days before we go full days, so they are off playing the last days of freedom away right now....and I'm home getting done whatever I can when Owen lets me, which today is not much...(so I'm trying not to stress too much about it, despite the huge mound of paperwork and design I have on my plate). Anyway, the first day was a hit. The kids had fun, met new friends and new teachers. Cant ask for much more. And I'm having one of those "holding Owen, missing Chase" days....comes with the emotions of the first day of school, I guess. So very thankful for what I do have...

Half birthday, milestones and never say never

2011-08-11T22:13:00.000-07:00

A few pictures of Owen...

Sitting up...for a few seconds, anyway.

Sucking my thumb.

My half birthday today!

And the never say never part. Tonight, with very little time and effort, I turned this.....

into this!

Sweet potatoes and pears here....also apples, bananas and squash so far!

I never thought I'd be making baby food on my own. I would have loved to, but didn't expect to ever have the time with my busy life and chaos. I just "knew" it was a lot of work. But after stumbling upon an article about making your own baby food and, what caught my eye, adding spices to it, I decided to ask my sister for her babycook processer. And let's face it, baby food is not cheap. I was shocked from when I bought baby food last how much the price has gone up. Anyway, it was amazingly easy, pretty quick, and a great feeling to do this. I just hope Owen thinks so, too. We'll find out tomorrow if he likes it. If so, I have some fun surprises for him!

Finding Time

2011-08-09T06:47:00.000-07:00

It doesn't seem like I have much time for my blog anymore....I hope that's not forever. I love writing here but my time truly does get monopolized. And it's only really therapy for me if I can sit here and type my thoughts out uninterrupted and in a continuous stream. But I am not the only one dictating it these days. If not work or the kids or errands or household duties, my little sunshine is with me. In fact, he's on my hip through all of that usually! I don't mind too much, though. Because I know what it's like to not have that "burden", too. And if I get a choice, I chose the former. (and he's kicking me and talking to me as I sit here and type!)

So much has been going on ..... I don't know where to start. That last post is still heavily on our minds. I got a call last week that our depositions are wanted. It completely baffles me that we are the last ones they want to talk to. Aren't we the ones this happened to? Wouldn't we be the first ones to ask what happened that day 2 years, 3 months and 3 weeks ago? I don't know that I'll ever understand the legal system. So we prepare for our turn. I expect the worst. I read the defense's response my attorney's questions a year ago and it was very painful. They actually blamed me for my child dying--the doctor letting me bleed all day long with this healthy baby in my womb was my fault. I certainly expect this to get ugly. Somedays I have no idea why I am going through with this. So I dare anyone who has not held their dying baby in their arms to tell me not to.

At the end of the day, I still miss my baby boy as if it were yesterday I held him. It's still just as painful to look at his pictures...and I have them everywhere. He's never very far from my sight. I think of him every time I hold Owen. Many times I still think Owen looks like Chase as my memory of Chase is so big. Actually, when we finally held him, he weighed almost as Owen does today with all the fluids they had pumped in him. I cry for him. These tears are random, sometimes triggered. The thoughts are constant. I still think of dying and getting to see him. Though I would miss these guys so much that thought is hard to bear as well. A conflict, still. Always. What I have and what I wait for. The hope that one day I really will get to see and hold him again.

Even after 4 kids and 3 of them in my arms, I still marvel at the love Owen can give us and we can give him. He is truly amazing. Everytime I look at him, he smiles. That's all it takes. Just making eye contact. I can't help but pull him close and breathe him in. Kissing him as much as I can. Love is a powerful thing. How can he give so much to us? I don't know. But I remember that feeling in the hospital with Chase, too. How even lying there, with very little physical, tangible response to us, I still felt his love. And I knew he felt our love too. I knew that deep inside me somewhere, that he knew how much we love him. He still knows it, too, I'm sure. Love is so powerful.

Well, this is going on day 2 of this post so I'm going to close for now. School is about to start and we are finishing up swim lessons, going to gymnastics, swimming and library. Can't imagine once school actually does start. I'll hang on for the ride, I guess.

So hard....but so necessary

2011-07-19T21:37:00.000-07:00

I am still in the process of litigation with the hospital and mostly the doctor who delivered Chase. The depositions have been completed and so things are moving forward. My attorney said I did not have to be and he might not want me at the depositions, but that I would have full access to all of the transcripts. Knowing that they were complete, I called and asked to see Dr. Harkins' and they put it right in the mail to me.

Patric read it first and gave me his opinion or his perception of the transcript. From this, I thought that I was going to be really confused after I read it. I thought I would see the doctor as remorseful and regretful and as confused as I was with what happened. It was all what I wanted to hear. What I did not get after the trauma. An honest explanation of what happened to me and to my baby boy....from a man who was not only my doctor and caretaker, but also my friend. I felt so abandoned after Chase's death by him....in every sense of the word. I was so lost. So confused. So hurt. And so mad. And I thought all of this had finally come out in his deposition--it was his one last chance to explain to me what happened and say what he wanted to say....with the help of my attorney and his.

So the deposition came in the mail. Patric read it and told me about it. Then he gave it to me to read. But I couldn't. I wanted the time to be right. I wanted to not be distracted, not be interrupted, but to read the whole thing as if I was in the room listening. So it sat here on my desk for more than a week. Waiting for the right time, when there is no right time for something like this.

100 pages of deposition...and it was the quickest read ever. Because even when I get the opportunity to relive that horrible day and try to figure out how everything got so screwed up, it all goes even faster. I couldn't get through it fast enough. And I see how stupid this doctor is. How much MORE stupid he is than what I ever thought. His deposition is so completely incriminating to me it's insane. And now I can't wait to talk to my lawyer tomorrow. Because half the time I read the documents from my attorney, my interpretation is so far off base from what they are saying (in all that legal jargon), that I think it's white when actually it's black and it's on our side. But what I read in that deposition was exactly what I thought the entire time. The arrogance, the incompetency. All of it. When I read it, I can hear his tone of voice, his innuendoes, his condescending attitude, his duplicity. And its rough. It's hard to read. But I've needed to hear this for so long. And for me, it's therapeutic. Reading his interpretation, even if it is for the attorneys, of the surgery that he did on me was healing. Hearing the horror even from his side.....something I that at one point I doubted that he even felt.

So I read this deposition with my baby boy in my arms. My healthy, alive, sleeping baby boy. And my heart aches for what should have been, at the same time that it melts for what is. I am so blessed with Owen. I truly believe he has his brother in him. Side note: I took him to the doctor because I thought he had an earache (duh, just overreacted to teething, oh well). This was a new doctor who does not know anything about us, not medically or anything. He took one look at Owen and asked how old he was and said, "oh, he looks so much older. Not in a bad way, just wise beyond his years sort of, you know?" I thought, man, doctor, if you only knew. My little boy is so much more than what you see. If only you knew....

Hafta share...

2011-07-16T16:15:00.000-07:00

a great book about about favorite blankies...

cousin baseball summer

playing dressup...even a guard dog

The Move

2011-07-16T10:49:00.000-07:00

We are all still adjusting to this move. The summer has been crazy with where we have been and what we've been doing. The kids played softball and baseball in my sister's town. We had 7 kids on 5 different teams between the two of us. The initial plan was that I was going to be staying with her for a good portion of the summer but as it turned out we moved into our house quicker than we anticipated. This meant that my dear sis had to shuffle kids to and from practice and games all by her lonesome, for the most part. I knew it would be a lot to handle with her and I keeping up with 5 different practice schedules and game schedules--I don't know how she did her just herself. And then to not get to spend the sister time that we had planned and hoped for on top of it all. Instead I was moving, finding schools, swim teams, gymnastics teams, activities for the boys and things for all of us to do together. And of course shopping.

That was the month of June. Now it's July and we've been settling in, though Patric's traveling back and forth to Ruidoso a lot, as we had planned. It sucks, though. The kids always asking when daddy's coming home and Patric having to be alone each nite (in the peace and quiet and solitude--in my perspective) while we are all here together (not getting any sleep because the sun rises sooo much earlier here and when you're the only one getting up with the baby at night, cuts in on your rest!). And what I realize is....it's not just us as parents that have been going through a huge change this summer. We have business opportunities and changes going on on top of it all and a lot to get used to. But also the kids have their side of all of this. I realize that they are going through just as big of a move....and they're just kids. A lot for them to handle. Leaving behind close friends and a whole bunch of (~~boredom~~) familiarity. It's hard on them, too. As excited as they have been to meet new friends, they are just as scared, too. I hate that. But I tell them that this adjustment period they are going through right now will help them later in life be more adaptable to big changes in their life. Maybe roll with the punches a little better? I hope so. I never expected it would be smooth as silk this summer.....but sometimes it's hard to keep looking forward when all you want to do is look over your shoulder. A chapter in not just mine and Patric's lives is closing, but in our kids' too. We are all starting over. And we are bringing Chase with us---he's on every page of this book. But as with many things in life, time has so much to do with it. Just getting past this and getting into our new groove--and I never want to wish time away--but it's how it works. We'll get there--just hopefully not too quickly and without smelling the roses along the way.

A new beginning

2011-07-07T11:04:00.000-07:00

We've been pretty busy. We relocated for one. Moving was a lot more work than I thought it would be. I was looking forward to a "purge", but it was hard....and I'm still not completely rid of my junk. That is going to be a lifestyle change, not just a quick one! Our new home is much more spread out. It is much cleaner. And it fits us perfectly. The kids each have their own room. Owen is in our room for now. We have a garage so the cars can stay inside. And I am living in luxury again with things like a garbage disposal and decent water pressure! I know I appreciate these things a lot more having lived without them for so long.

We really enjoy our new residence. The kids are getting involved in activities slowly. We met our neighbors last night -- they have kids and potential babysitters (yay!). They also have dogs so Kate even has made friends. There are a lot of kids in the neighborhood so it's just a matter of time until we meet them. We have found so many things to do and I am overwhelmed by all the choices....even just in the grocery stores! Really--I have to work to be efficient with my time. I can find myself getting lost in making decisions on a daily basis!

The move has been difficult in other ways, though. Leaving Ruidoso was also hard for what and who we left behind. We left a huge yard and a river....now our yard is about the size of the house we lived in! There are lots of parks and sidewalks and trails everywhere, however. We left a great church in our small town and we'll have to search for another one to suit us now. The friends we had left in Ruidoso after Chase died were true friends. I miss them, but keep in touch with them in several ways.

Our biggest challenge has been moving here without Chase. Of course he's with us in every way....except the one that settles our empty hands. The feeling of leaving him behind was excruciating. As we packed up, I guarded the 3 boxes I have of his things with my life. I kept them in my car through the entire move. We were a few different places until we found the house and I stored those boxes carefully. His shadow box and pictures were the last things I took off our walls in Ruidoso and the first thing I unpacked here. Placing them in our new home was painful, too. I find myself aching for my little boy all of a sudden. I squeeze Owen and hug him tight.....whispering in his ear messages for his big brother. How I miss him and how I wish he were here with us in this house. And then I look at Owen and marvel. He is such an amazing little man. And so much like both his big brothers, I would guess. I know Chase couldn't look much different .... but then it's hard to imagine. I unpacked my big pictures of the kids and framed more updated photos, added Owens to the mix. But my photo of Chase remains the same. It never changes. And it never will. It still hurts so much. Big sister Emma proudly puts her magnets on the fridge that she has unpacked. One of them is of her holding Chase in the hospital right before he died. These photos of the kids holding Chase are some of the most painful ones. Maybe because I don't look at them as often. I miss him. I wish he was here but he isn't. I don't always feel him, either. And I don't know if that is my fault or his. The lawsuit is progressing and we ask ourselves why? What's the point? It's painful. It's wrong. It's not fair. And there is nothing we or anyone can do about it. Sadly....

We are excited about our move. It's a good move for us. But it's also sad. Like everything is in this life of ours. But in a way, the sadness makes the happiness greater. Hard to explain.

I'm working on the blog--I wanted to give it a facelift with the move....part of my new beginning. Not sure when I'll get it finished. I need Francesca's help! Thanks for bearing with me. A couple pics, more later.

Reese's kgartn Grad day!

2011-05-26T22:05:00.000-07:00

Reese graduated from kindergarten today. I held together better than I expected, though I did not look forward to this day. My baby boy, as I will always refer to him, is growing up. He's a school kid now....and always will be.

But I know he will always find me in the crowd. He's singing "Skiddamarink-a-dink-a-dink, skiddamarink-a-do, I love you" in this picture. And he's pointing to his mama!

I love you sweet boy. Forever and always, my baby boy!

"Cherished" from Midnight Orange

2011-05-24T10:18:00.000-07:00

A year and a half ago I came upon Midnight Orange from my fellow BLM circle and found her sculptures so very touching. I knew I wanted to order something from her....I just didn't know what exactly. Then she went in a hiatus from etsy for a while and I kept in touch with her and told her I wanted one some day. I just didn't know which one and when I would decide. She emailed me back and said that was okay--just let her know when I was ready.

When I brought home Owen I went through so many emotions with having him in my arms and loving him so much....yet missing Chase so badly. I had such a strong conflict in my heart and I thought of D Antonia and knew that this was the strongest emotion I had so far on this journey I am on and I wanted a piece to reflect this. I found her on facebook and started working with her. She sent me a couple links to see which one I connected with most and I was so touched. The emotion I felt when I saw what she created just poured out. D Antonia is so sweet and wonderful. I received her box last week and opened it to find this.

I put her on my collage box from Francesca to take this picture. I ordered the box from her a coupe weeks and it took my breath away when I opened it. Both pieces are so very dear to me. A reminder of these friends I have met because of Chase. And each tells a story to me. Of what I have endured. Where I came from and where I am headed. And I think it is all going to be okay. My broken heart has a beautiful bandaid on it. And I am forever grateful for this.

Life is a highway....

2011-05-24T10:06:00.000-07:00

and we're going 85 miles an hour.....or so it feels like it! It's been a while since I posted and so much is going on in our lives right now. I can't (because I don't have time!) get into it all right now, but I need to write about a couple things that have really been about this journey I've been on these last two years.

We had the motorcycle rally last week so that's where I've been physically and right now I'm (supposed to be) working on the wrap up from the event. Everything went pretty well. I accomplished the things I needed to with work and the show went well overall. This is all good for our family. This event is our livelihood and it allows me to stay home with the kids and allows Patric to spend as much time as he can at home--something that he wouldn't be able to do working a full-time job for an employer.

This event has also been part of our journey. Two years ago, we were in a lot of pain from losing Chase, yet "the show must go on" as they say and we had to work this event less than a month out from our loss. I had to face a lot of people at a time when all I really wanted to do was crawl in a hole and be unnoticed, untouched, and left alone. Not a lot of kids come to our rallies, but more than you would think since we have a "family friendly" atmosphere going on.....so each baby that was carried in caused my broken heart to ache even more. Last year, not much was different. The pain of our loss was maybe not quite as sharp, but the dull ache was there...only to be sharpened with each 1-year-old I saw come into the show.

This year was different.

I had Owen with me for part of the time....so my arms were, for the first time in a long time, not empty. My heart.....was a little fuller. Actually, a lot fuller. I had a smile back on my face again. Every baby that was carried into the show made me think of Owen this time. And I thought of when I would get to hold Owen again. And I could smile. Because I had something to smile about....inside and outside. And I was thankful for this. I thanked Owen. I thanked Chase. And I thanked God. Every 2-year-old, this time, I pictured Chase in my mind at that age, too. And it didn't hurt quite so bad this time. I have Chase in my heart....and nothing will ever take that away. But this year I can hold Owen in my arms. And the hurt just doesn't hurt like it used to. I am thankful for this. My family is so blessed. I love you sweet boy. I love you so, so much.

Big sis taking care of little bro.

My piece from Midnight Orange. Something I have been thinking about for over a year. When I brought home Owen, I knew exactly what I wanted (almost). D Antonia was so wonderful to work with. I am so thankful to know her.

The visit

2011-04-18T22:17:00.000-07:00

Chase is buried in a cemetery 7 hours away, so we don't get to visit his grave but once a year. This makes the visit all the more painful and momentous. It's not something we do every day and get used to. Though I don't think anyone can ever get used to visiting their child's gravesite.

We had a very short window of opportunity for this trip as Reese has had baseball games nearly every other day or two this past week/weekend. So we got to the cemetery Sunday. It was a very different feeling traveling this time. First and foremost, I had my baby in the car seat this time. The car seat that for so long, hadn't been used. I remembered two years prior, instead of that car seat, we had a casket in our Sequoia. A casket with the body of one of our children. That was a feeling that nearly sent me over the edge. I couldn't think about it during that 7 hour drive, or I could feel myself losing my mind. But it was hard not to. I thank Chase for carrying me through those days mostly. Giving me the grace to handle all of that. It hurts to remember...it always will.

I remember buying flowers last year to take to the grave. We all agreed on an arrangement and I remember wondering if the checker would ever guess in a million years what we were buying these flowers for as she commented on how pretty they were. This year, they each picked out their own arrangement, and I still wondered....and it still hurts. I will never get used to that feeling. And I still feel like teetering on the edge of sanity when I buy those flowers for my sweet boy. It's a very surreal feeling.

Owen slept nearly the entire three hour drive Sunday morning to the cemetery. Leaving me to myself for the ride....again, remembering last year and the sadness of the drive. Having my rainbow in my arms this year definitely helped me, somewhat through distracting me, somewhat as a physical comfort. When we got to the cemetery, I woke him up because I wanted to take pictures. And he cried. The entire stay. It was terribly windy outside and I know he didn't like it. But it really infringed on our visit. We all had our time at the grave and said our prayers and did what we needed to do. But with Owen crying, it certainly wasn't as peaceful as the trip was last year. To make matters worse, I looked up in the sky and found not a single cloud. I looked all around me....searching.....but I didn't see him. I didn't feel him. As hard as I tried, I felt so abandoned. I couldn't find any sign of my baby boy. I felt guilty having Owen in my arms.... and I couldn't comfort Owen at all, either. So I didn't get to be alone with Patric much at all. Everything was just all wrong. My other kids looked so grown up next his grave this year. They were so little when I remember them at the burial. It makes me so sad to see them sad and to know how their brother's death has changed them. It was time to leave and of course Owen calms down right away. But I was so sad because I couldn't feel Chase around me. I wondered if God was mad at me and wasn't going to let me feel my baby's presence anymore. This made me more sad.

After a while of silence in the car and once the kids started watching their movie again, I told Patric how I felt, all the while crying. I mean, why would I expect to feel Chase there at his grave, 7 hours away from where he always is. He's with us everywhere we go every day. Why do we need to go all this way to visit him on his birthday/death day? Of course, how could we not visit his grave is also the question. I was so confused....and then....all of a sudden Patric turned up the radio. And we heard it. Sarah was singing Angel. And I felt him. It was like Chase was telling me at that moment, "It's okay, Mom. You're exactly right, I'm not there at that cemetery. That's just my body. I'm with you guys all the time. See, I'm right here." And for as long as the song played, I closed my eyes and felt my baby boy. Thankful for his presence. And after that I was okay. Because I knew he wanted me to be okay.

As a babyloss mom, we are always searching for signs. Some may call them coincidences or just luck. But as a babyloss mom, I'll take what I can get. And I got it yesterday.....I miss you baby boy. I will never stop loving you and I will never stop thinking of you. Sweet dreams, little man. Godspeed.

Happy Birthday Little Man

2011-04-15T13:32:00.000-07:00

Chase turned two yesterday. We've been without our precious little boy for two years. It seems like yesterday, yet it seems like forever ago. I can't believe how time flies but I can still imagine him in his isolette as if it happened moments ago. So many emotions, so many feelings, so much fear. The trauma that we both endured still clouds over the fact that he is gone. Still searching for reasons, answers, clues. And I still don't understand it. Emma asks questions from time to time about what happened and why Chase isn't here with us. I don't have all the answers for her. I never will, and neither will she. The anger I harbor surfaces at his birthday....I think it will for quite some time. I look at Owen and don't see any real reason Chase shouldn't be here. Yet I look at Owen and know he wouldn't be here if it weren't for Chase.

I am so lucky to have dear friends and family that sent their best wishes yesterday, letting me know we were in their thoughts. The difference this year....I am holding a sweet babe in my arms. When I cry, Owen smiles to let me know it's okay. He is here. He is healthy and he is here to help me through these moments. For now, anyway...while I can pick him up and hold him in my arms and see Chase in my mind, yet feel Owen in my arms. A pain that will forever be there, and a comfort at the same time. Just as I'm getting used to Owen being in my life, I am still getting used to Chase not. The absence of one, the presence of another. Both my boys. Both from my womb, sharing a part of me that only my kids know. And carrying that part of me with them wherever they go.

"I wanted you more than you will ever know, so I sent love to follow wherever you go."

We are doing fine. We are laughing and smiling and enjoying life. But we still miss our little one. We always will. Until we meet again...

Dear Chase,

Happy 2nd birthday my little man. I know you had a terrific birthday party up in heaven. I try to picture you as a toddler running around, eating cake, opening presents, sitting on my lap, playing with your siblings. But it's hard. I want you here with us. You are a part of our family and always will be. We will never forget you, always love you, always celebrate you. I love you sweet boy. I love you to the moon and back.

Mommy

My April

2011-04-13T22:01:00.000-07:00

April is here. I have hardly had a chance to notice. Though I know. I feel it. The date is creeping up on me. I did not get a chance to post anything about our Spring Break trip. We had a blast.

The kids loved the ocean. It was their first time at the Pacific. We could have/should have stayed there all day. It was very relaxing and very peaceful. My favorite landscape is definitely the ocean. I looked around to find Chase....I ~~hoped~~ knew he was with us. I found him in the clouds.....

Owen had a great time, too. This was at Sea World, our favorite theme park!

Last week I was taking care of sick kids. Owen had a cold that lasted 10 days. It was absolutely horrible and very stressful--for all of us. It turned into an ear infection at the end, which the antibiotics took care of. He's all better now, but was pretty rough for a while. Then Reese came down with some pretty bad bronchitis. Another scare for me....though these days, it doesn't take much to make me worry. After some meds, he's recovered, too. So just when I think we are back on track....I look at the calendar and realize it.

I scheduled and rescheduled appointments this month several times and turns out, a couple rescheduled appointments are for tomorrow. April 14th. I can't believe I scheduled them on this day. I don't know why, but I wish I wouldn't have done that. We have Reese's first baseball game and I am so concentrated on not crashing his happy times with "having" to celebrate his brother's birthday and angelversary in the midst of his baseball season kickoff and his own birthday. I'm not sure how to do this. We are not skipping any games and are trying to fit in a trip to go visit Chase's gravesite before Reese's birthday.....but it's going to be a rush to fit it all in. I hate that he is buried so far away. We still have not laid his headstone. It is finished and sitting at the funeral home....but we have not been able to complete this last step. There are so many questions that were never answered and this was one of them....one we have struggled with and still not answered....

I could not sleep last night after Owen's midnite feeding because I looked at the clock and was in shock at the date. I found myself going through all the events all over again. Remembering as much as I could as I looked at the pictures I have in my room. Wishing soooo badly I would have held my baby boy with so much more passion than I did in those pictures. Hurting because I feel guilty for not picking him up the first moment I saw him in the NICU. Not picking him up, because of course I couldn't, but I wished I would have put my hands under him....something I would do now without hesitation. Just to feel him. So that he could feel me. Those memories are so painful. My eyes investigate every millimeter of those photos now. Wishing I had more. Trying to distinguish actual images in my mind from the precise moments captured with each camera shot. Wondering if I really remember anything other than these photos nowadays. Hurting. Still. Hurting. So. Bad. I miss him. With every ounce of my body, I miss my little boy. Owen sleeps on my chest while I tell him I love him. And that I love and so painfully miss his big brother. All in the same beat of my heart.

This Life of Mine (Ours)

2011-03-31T10:28:00.000-07:00

After Chase died, I wanted to get pregnant immediately. And I didn't want to admit this right away, because I didn't want to replace Chase--or want anyone else (Patric or the kids) to think I wanted to either. But eventually I admitted it and yearned so deeply for the physical contact of a new baby that I did not get with Chase. I felt we needed one more link in our family, to make it 7. The doctor wouldn't give us permission to try to get pregnant until we had waited 6 months, he wanted 8 months, after my pregnancy with Chase. He said the longer we waited, the more I would be healed and would be ready for the next pregnancy. In my mind, I wasn't getting any younger, and didn't want to be having babies into my 40s, though I'm sure I would have changed my opinion of that if I had to! I told Patric that if we got pregnant again, I was "sure", though I was half joking, that I would need a shrink throughout the pregnancy. I anticipated those 9 months of being very emotional and me being very scared about what all could possibly go wrong. Though, even when everything went absolutely perfect at each checkup, we would both look at each other with thoughts going through our mind that everything was absolutely perfect with Chase, so until we brought the baby home, none of this meant anything in our minds.

I was surprised. Somehow, throughout this last pregnancy, I felt amazingly calm. It seemed like after our first ultrasound at 13 weeks telling us that everything looked perfect, I had a monkey off my back. I got through the first trimester (when my 2 prior miscarriages happened) and I credited Chase with this peace that I felt, thanking him for getting me through the pregnancy every day. Near the end of the 9 months, my emotions started going down a different path as I missed Chase so dearly. I could see the light at the end of the tunnel so-to-speak and I felt like I should have done all this with Chase--that he was all I really wanted. Fear set in again and I began to get a little anxious, but for the most part, I felt sane. I didn't feel crazy, as I read comments and blogs from other rainbow baby mamas that had felt the same things I was feeling.

Then Owen was born.

I never once thought of Owen as a replacement of Chase. In fact, I felt like Owen would help me heal slightly. He would help me remember Chase and imagine him at ages that I couldn't without this little physical being in my arms and under my care. But all in all, I thought I would be happy. I knew there would be sadness because I would miss Chase as I held Owen. But overall, I pictured a road of fun and happiness ahead of me with the new baby.

What I am about to say is not to be interpreted as I do not want Owen. That is not the case at all. He gives me light in my life, he puts a smile on my face, he has made my heart grow bigger each day he is here with us. What I did not know about this rainbow baby, is the state of fear that would come with him. I did not know that I would be so scared to lose him; that every cough, grimmace, cry would possibly send me into a mini (hidden) panic attack. My heart and head are at constant battle....still. I know in my heart that Owen is doing just fine. I know that his cries are because he is either hungry or has a dirty diaper and that his collicky moments are because his tummy hurts with gas pains. But in my head, I am constantly on alert. Is everything really okay? And I'm not the only one. Karly, who is not only Owen's big sister, but his second mommy, asks, "mom, why is he crying?" Sometimes I say, "baby, he just has a tummy ache like you do sometimes." But sometimes when my anxiety level is skyrocketed, I say, "I don't know." Then when I get him calmed down after a crying bout, she asks me, "Mom, is he breathing?" And the truth of the matter is, I'm always checking. Now, to some extent, we all do this as mothers. Even to our toddlers and big kids, we check...all the time. It's part of our instincts, habits, etc. But with Owen, our rainbow, it's to a much greater extent. I look at her with a little smile and say, "Yes, honey, of course he is." But when I know that my 9-year-old daughter really just asked me if her baby brother is dead or not, my stomach turns. Because when you have held a tiny baby in your arms that is dead or dying, it doesn't matter if he is your son, your brother, your nephew or your grandson.....you never forget what that feels like. And you fear it to ever happen again.

Editted to add: Tonight at supper Reese said the prayer. He always prays, among other things, that Chase is safe up in heaven and tells God he misses him so much. Tonight, though, he prayed that God will "let Owen stay alive."

I didn't know I would be living like this. In some state of fear, constant fear, that something is wrong with Owen. I find myself particularly scared of the things that happened to Chase, or the things we saw go wrong with him. Chase's legs were severely blotchy his last two days. I don't remember what they call it but it's due to poor circulation and it happens to us all, especially to our fingers and hands when we get cold. So when Owen's hands or feet get this way, I go back to the hospital when Chase's whole body looked that way and I get so scared. My heart knows that Owen is fine...but my head remembers. All the jerks, facial expressions, breathing changes....all of that which is completely normal with newborns, now sends me into a frenzy. Nothing that shows on the outside, but on the inside, the wheels are turnin'. My thoughts get worrisome until I see whatever it is I need to see to make me feel better.

Owen has been a little collicky this past week and it's very hard to comfort him, and then explain to everyone else that he's fine and give them their warm and fuzzy. Patric is very good about not stressing me out, but I know that he's feeling/thinking exactly the same as me. The kids are not so good about not stressing me but I can lie to them and tell them everything is fine, whether I know it is or not.

There are days when I think about all this and just marvel at this life I now live. I think about what life would have been with Chase compared to how it is now with Owen. I wonder how this will affect us all long term. Even Owen. I never look at him and not think about Chase. I feel the need to talk to Chase when I'm alone and talking to Owen, too. I don't know why. Owen is absolutely awesome. I wouldn't trade him or everything I've been through (recovery, nursing pain) for anything. He's worth every ounce of pain I've felt. I just didn't know that I'd be living in constant fear for his life. I was so laid back last time (with Reese). Everything went so smoothly compared to this. And I was even in the hospital with Reese for 4 days with RSV when he was 7 months. I don't know, maybe I'll get there. I tell myself that as Owen gets older, it'll get easier. Ha! Maybe if he could just tell me what is wrong when he cries, then I don't have to guess and tell everyone else for him. But I don't want to wish away time. I want to enjoy every moment. I want to love on him and squeeze him and kiss him each day because I know he will grow up so fast.

I love Owen. I love having a new baby at home. I just never knew a rainbow could be so scary.

Where we are

2011-03-19T10:51:00.000-07:00

My friend Carly just published some amazingly helpful posts for babyloss parents and anyone who knows anyone going through this, from friends and family to healthcare professionals. I find these helpful even nearly 2 years from losing sweet Chase. This journey is not one I would chose for anyone, but we don't have the choice. When we are on it, some days the only way to make it through the day is with the help of others on the same ride. Through blogs, emails, cards, etc., I have found comfort from "friends" that have reached out to me and honestly know what I am feeling and going through. Understanding that grief doesn't just happen and then it's over, but that it comes in waves is crucial to comforting someone experiencing this.

I knew that bringing home Owen would be emotional, but I didn't know that I would grieve Chase as deeply as I have in Owen's presence. There is not a moment that goes by that I don't think of Chase and miss him painfully. Catching a glimpse of Owen from afar, sleeping peacefully and remembering Chase in his isolette; wishing I had a better picture of Chase that I could see his whole face; blotchy skin on Owen and remembering Chase's when he was declining; the clothes that Chase should have worn and handed down to Owen with spit-up stains but instead, they are brand new. I worry every time Owen makes a funny face or twitches in his sleep that something is wrong, remembering how scared I was that Chase was going to have a seizure...and then he finally did. And newborns twitch a lot, let's face it, so just imagine my anxiety levels these days.
I have listened to Chase's song, Godspeed, a lot since Owen came home--it's on all the playlists I made for him. I could not listen to it before as it was just too painful. And now when I listen to it, it really isn't any less painful, but I want to hear it. It's strange to me because it acutely reminds me of the funeral service yet I want to hear it and listen to the whole thing, with Owen in my arms. I feel a little safer, I guess. I can still cry every time I hear it, but I almost want it to bring me happiness, too. I can't take away the sorrow I feel, but I can make it a little happier by sharing these moments with Owen....being thankful for Chase and everything that he taught me and brought me. It isn't any easier to hear this song, but now I want to hear it.....whereas before Owen came home, I couldn't bear to hear that melody.

I still feel a lot of pain, a LOT of pain. I have thought about some pretty painful moments that I never let enter my head since losing Chase and I cry. But again, I am thankful now, too. This journey has continued, but the path I am on has changed. Some moments I am so sad that I still don't think I can move on. But I do, because I want to. I have beauty in my life. I am deeply blessed. Yet no matter how much joy I feel, I will always feel sorrow. But I know that I will get to see Chase again some day. And that he is waiting for us in a place that is incredibly beautiful. I know this in my heart. Yet miss him with my entire soul. Carly said it this way and I thank her for putting it in these words. She is an amazing woman.

"I thank God every day for all 4 of my children. I am not angry now, but thankful that my son has given me this beautiful life that I live today. I know that the place that Christian is in is so incredibly amazing. I will miss him every day for the rest of my life. I thank my angels for helping me to rise above my sadness. I thank God for sending Christian into my life even if it was only for the shortest stay.

I found my way out of the dark forest and I am now living in the amber glow. Life is rich. Life is precious. Life is beautiful."

Still....

2011-03-09T11:17:00.000-08:00

I can't believe Owen is over 3 weeks old already. Time has flown by. So have all the struggles. Re-learning all the little baby signs and signals and Owen's own signals has gone pretty smooth. Getting used to seeing Chase in this little boy and missing him every time I look into Owen's beautiful little eyes, thinking about him. I've been letting myself think of those heart-wrenching moments of Chase's life lately. I'm not sure why. There were some extremely sad moments during that week back in April of 2009 that I have not let my mind visit for quite a while. And when I did, only for fleeting moments and then shifted to something else. The pain is fresh. Raw. And it's peculiar how my mind can conjure up such emotion without notice sometimes. The memories are there and resurface at some of the weirdest times sometimes. But as many painful moments as there are, I try to think of the beautiful memories, too. Even the fact that I have an angel son in Heaven.

I just read Heaven is For Real, by Todd Burpo. My sister found the book and left it behind in Albuquerque when Owen was born and I'm so glad she did. It's a story about a little boy who had emergency appendectomy and visited Heaven while he was sedated. I think this story touches a lot of people, but is special particularly to those of us who have suffered miscarriage and baby loss. We struggle a lot with imagining our babies faces and what the look like, who they might look like and to hear this little boy's story of what heaven is like, how Jesus really, really loves the little children, what he did while he as in heaven and who he saw and all the little children he saw.....it is comforting. The question of whether or not to believe the story, whether it is true or not, is almost abandoned. It is such a beautiful story, I want to believe it and do.......wondering how can I not believe it??? Through the eyes of a child and told this way, it is everything I want Heaven to be...questions answered maybe. This little boy is not scared of dying, because he knows what is next for him. And though I have felt this way before, knowing i will get to see Chase again, I am comforted a little more hearing this story and what Heaven is really like.....or so this story describes.

***

I am still getting used to this life. I remember for a long time being in my car and every time I looked in the back seat, I missed seeing the car seat and Chase in it. It was a very painful reminder and constant. I looked at my 3 kids and saw them, but more so saw who wasn't there. Taking that car seat out of the car when we left the hospital is one of those painful memories that I wouldn't let myself remember....until we took Owen out of the hospital and put him in that very car seat. It was cathartic in ways, sad.....yet happy. I sobbed as I buckled Owen into Chase's seat....the one he never got to use. Now, I am still getting used to seeing that car seat in the back seat of the car. Some days I can't believe I have my little boy with me. He's here with us. All the time. I don't know when it will ever get any easier. I will get used to it. But I won't ever stop thinking about the baby who didn't get to use it. The baby who is missing in our car. In our lives. But I will always be thinking about seeing him again. Seeing him in a place much better than this. One day....

Owen with his Chase bear in his brother's outfit.

Uphill from here...

2011-03-01T21:58:00.000-08:00

Chase Allen

Owen Chase

I thought it would get easier bringing Owen home. I thought my anxieties would lessen once we loaded our baby into our car, buckled him in the car seat and welcomed him into our home. I did not know instead, it would get harder. I hoped Owen would remind us of Chase, make our memories more vivid and help our imaginations picture Chase in phases that we have missed out on. I never worried about Owen erasing any memories of Chase or fading them. And he hasn't. He has made our memories of Chase stronger. We are constantly comparing Owen to him and the rest of the kids as newborns. His birth obviously brought back many memories, making constant comparisons during the procedure. Our anxieties heightened, or so we thought, at the moment we heard his first cries....waiting to hear that all was okay. Holding him in the Recovery Room, in complete awe of the miracle we had in our arms. I accompanied Owen to the nursery one evening for his nightly assessment. Only a couple other babies were in the nursery at the time but one of them was a very large baby. Large enough that the nurses were commenting that this one could crawl out of here practically, as he was so big. I attentively watched the weight come up....he was 8 pounds 12 oz., I think. I was curious because this baby reminded me of Chase, in just his size. I remember Chase seeming so big but I had no frame of reference as to how big he actually was. Even Owen seemed little, just 6 ounces less than his brother, but the difference was noticeable. During his assessment, Owen started crying as he did not like having his clothes removed for the scale, nor did he like the scale either. As soon as the nurse got his weight, I was able to comfort him, though, and that made me feel sooooo good. Just whispering into Owen's ear calmed him down. And I was taken back to Chase's hospital room where I whispered into his ear, knowing in my heart that he would hear my voice and get better. That if he felt my breath on his temple, he would miraculously heal and open his eyes. I was just sure of this. But it never happened. I couldn't fix my baby boy. I couldn't make it all better for him, like a mom is supposed to do. Being able to do this for Owen, helped me. It gave me that feeling that every mother needs to have....that gives their kids complete unconditional love and confidence that mom knows best.

I can't say it has been that easy coasting since we got home, though. I have been pretty uptight I must say. I am not the same person who brought my other kids home. I am scared. I know the fragility of life. I know the reality of pain. I know the depth of loss. And, unfortunately, it scars much more than I ever knew that it could. I used to love the infant stage--each day was a pleasure with a new baby. It was fun and it was probably one of my favorite ages. I still love babies, but it is not as fun anymore. I worry too much to enjoy it the way I used to. I hate that part.

So many times I look at Owen and I think Chase. Some times I even call him Chase by accident. I call him Reese, too, for that matter, but more often it's Chase that I confuse him with, since I am always comparing the two. Looking at these pictures, I can't look at one without thinking of the other. I wonder what Chase's eyes would have looked like if I could have seen them open like Owen's. I see Owen sleeping and I remember Chase lying there, lifeless almost, and I fear for Owen. Not obsessively, but I just worry. I don't know that I ever won't. I think this is how it will always be. Loving him with my soul, yet always fearing what might happen. I have so many people tell me how happy they are for us and have complete joy on their faces for us. I wonder if they know that I live in constant fear, though, of not having Owen some day. Of what could happen. I don't think they would have only joy on their faces but maybe sadness, too. For there is never anything that change the fact that we must live each day without one of our family members. And how we are to do this, only we can know.

Day by day

2011-02-25T12:06:00.000-08:00

I have said before that during my pregnancy I had followed other blogs of BLMs who were also pregnant with rainbow babies or had just brought a rainbow baby home. I was curious how to live with a rainbow. I was curious what emotions to expect with a rainbow while also grieving a baby lost. I wanted to know what to expect with the fears of bringing a baby home again and the if there would be sadness always prevailing, or if happiness would overrule. I was so excited and happy to be pregnant again, but I really wanted my sweet baby Chase back and I was too scared to think about the what-ifs. Because I knew this baby really would not even be growing inside me if Chase were here. My/our life would be so completely different. So completely normal. Without so much pain....and knowing...

Now I can speak about these things, because now I am here on this journey. And I can say that I am soo completely scared to death. I am so scared that something is going to happen or that something isn't going to be right with Owen. I have read about babies lost after a few weeks old.....I can't imagine. Losing Owen at this point would devastate me. Us. Just like losing Chase. And while my pregnancy was fairly stress-free and worry-free, I don't feel that way anymore. That peace that was over me assuring me that everything would be fine, or that everything was fine right now, is no longer around me. Having Owen in my arms is a constant reminder of Chase. And this is good because I love reminders of him and always thinking about him. But the fact that he isn't here makes these constant reminders haunting in some respects, too. I look at Owen and love him to pieces, like I love Chase. But part of me feels like I traded in one for the other. I couldn't have both so I had to pick. Like if you have ever had that terrible, terrible thought of what if you had to pick between one of your kids, which one would you choose? Maybe I'm the only one who fears that or has thought about that, but it's a horrible feeling. And sometimes I feel that way when I look at Owen. Like he's here because Chase is not, therefore I picked him over Chase. That tears me up inside and some days I'm not sure how to get past that. They are tears just under the surface. Thank God I'm home alone all day because those tears surface occasionally and I just cry. I love Owen so much. So.So.Much. But I miss Chase Just.As.Much.

I've read this on other blogs and know that I'm not alone. The rainbow baby doesn't fix it. We don't expect it to fix it. There are no replacements. But to the outside world, it does. Or should. And people don't understand why we could be sad with such a beautiful, perfect little babe in our arms. But then we don't care about being understood, right? We are here and they are there. There is no crossover. (or very few who can crossover) Two different worlds. And we rely on our new friends, other babyloss moms and dads, to help us through this.

I was in the dr.s office this morning with Owen for a weight check and when the doctor came in to look at him, after she had seen his weight (no gain), I started crying. I wondered if she was looking at me like a mother who was worried about her baby gaining weight, or a mother who had lost a child and was scared to death that her baby was not gaining weight. I think the latter--this doctor is absolutely awesome. She talked me through it and was not really concerned about Owen, but also wanted to see him again to check up on him and make sure we gained some weight next time. But these are the fears that get magnified when you are on this journey. And I wonder if I would have been like this if this was our first child, rather than our last child. Would I want more children? How would have this affected our lives if it would have happened years ago, when we were younger? I am so thankful it didn't. But I am quickly reminded that this shouldn't have happened in the first place. And I shouldn't be on this journey at all.

Here's my rainbow. He warms my heart, keeps me smiling, and I can't wait to see him playing with his brother and sisters. And neither can they!

So much love...

2011-02-19T20:49:00.000-08:00

Here are a couple pictures I just had to post. I know I'm biased but Owen is the most beautiful babe in the world (well, tied fifth, anyway--with his brothers & sisters!). I am breathing him in with every kiss, every whisper, every smell of his sweet skin. Loving him with my entire being. And there is no way in the world to do this without, at the same time, thinking about Chase. Sometimes these are happy thoughts, remembering his smell in the isolette, his soft skin, his feathery hair. As I was taking this first picture, I was talking to Owen. And when I talk to him, I'm usually right in his face, my mouth right next to his ear or at his cheek. Talking, breathing, smelling him all at the same time. And as I was leaning over the crib, bent down next to his face, I was taken back. Back to those few days when Chase was the one I was bending over the crib talking to. I remember talking to him just the same as I talk to Owen now, but he did not respond to me. I begged, pleaded with him to fight for us because we wanted, needed him with us. I remember leaning over to him talking to him thinking that I could actually fix him if he just heard my voice, felt my breath, smelled my skin. That these things would wake him up and he would just all of a sudden open his eyes and look at me, smile at me, cry, something. Anything. All he needed was his momma, I thought. I remembered this as I spoke to Owen and cried. I asked Owen to tell his brother hi for me and to tell him to come visit me in my dreams soon. The pain from missing Chase is just as strong now, maybe rekindled a little with Owen's arrival. But mostly I am thankful. Thankful to Chase that Owen is here. And thankful to Owen that I can imagine some things more clearly now about Chase and think of things we missed out on and how wonderful they would have been.

Same....but different

2011-02-17T12:14:00.001-08:00

Some days I still can't believe it. I can't believe I'm not pregnant anymore....or that I may never be pregnant again--and I'm not sure after the c-section if I ever would go through that again! Things are so fresh from the memories I have of Chase. My house was cluttered with food, flowers, toiletries....just like it is now, but last time it was because we had lost our son. People stopped by, brought dinners, just like last time, but it was because Chase died, this time it's the opposite. The whole time we were in the hospital....it seemed like such a thin line between where we are currently traveling and where we had been just 22 months ago. The only difference was that we had a bassinet in our room with a baby in it this time. I had to pinch myself several times to realize what was happening before me....or to snap myself out of what had happened last time we went down this road. This time it was just so happy.....last time it was so incredibly painful. The difference between bringing a baby home and not bringing a baby home......and to know what both sides are like---it's almost surreal in itself. You are constantly checking yourself, making sure it's not a dream....just like last time.....

I talk to Owen all the time about his brother. I use him to talk to Chase....send messages to him for me....more directly than I could before Owen was here. I use Owen to gauge Chase's growth that I couldn't before because I had no frame of reference. Now, my little frame of reference is staring me right back in the face. And I can't deny him. Chase was here so much for me to get through the pregnancy with Owen. Now Owen is here to help me on my grief cycles with Chase again. Kinda weird how they "piggyback" on each other....guess that's what brothers do. I picked up Chase's footprints and held them next to Owen's and guess what? They were the exact.same.size. I can't even begin to put into words how I miss my little boy. Or how much I love my newest little boy. These two are part of each other. Just like we all are part of each other. But these two are connected--extra special. I can feel it. I know Owen can feel it. And I look forward to nurturing that bond as he grows. It won't be obsessive, or in a negative way. Just in a loving, guardian angel sort of way. That we are all protected by Chase in all we do.

We are so happy--I couldn't be more so about our family. We are so very full of love. We have a full house, a full car...I'm not sure what more we could ask for. Though we miss our little boy more than anything, we are thankful for him. For the gift he brought us. For the gift he continues to bring us each and every day. Welcome little Owen, to a family full of life and love and happiness. May you share in these with us and continue to teach us more about your brother that we never got to know.

Owen Chase Pearson

2011-02-14T20:47:00.000-08:00

We welcomed our 5th born Friday morning, February 11th at 8:34 am. More details to come but I just wanted to announce his long awaited arrival and thank everyone for their prayers and well wishes during this rainbow journey. Each one of us exhaled, so to speak, with Owen's birth. Here are some pictures.

This event was very emotional for all of us. I can't begin to tell how excited we are to have Owen home with us and how blessed we feel. Chase was part of this event in many ways; he protected us, he prepared us, he taught us how to love another one again. There is sadness in our hearts that Chase could not be a part of this, but yet we know that Owen wouldn't be here if we had Chase. Knowing this we love Owen with all our hearts. He is part of our family, just as Chase is. He will grown with us and he will share with us all the love in our hearts and then some.

Dates

2011-02-04T15:32:00.000-08:00

When you have monumental moments in your life, you recognize dates. Just the same as if these moments are tragedies. And those dates are triggers. When you see those dates, many thoughts come back. For a long time after Chase died, every expiration date I read on groceries, medicine, frozen foods, mail packages....I referenced each of them to Chase. Before or after. Or on some occasions, the date was Chase's birthday, or his death date. Or his due date. For the last couple weeks, I have been seeing dates, thinking about those triggers. Or hearing dates. When I see or hear about something on or after February 11th, I think to myself, "is that going to be happy or sad for me? Is that going to be before or after a tragedy? How is our life going to be different at that time?" I see that date a lot--it's on the milk cartons, the meat packages. And I remember that feeling when Chase died. I know I thought about it before he was born, too, and thought with excitement about how our life would be changed by that date and it would be so exciting. I want to think the same now when I see February 11th, but those thoughts creep in and I wonder if my world will come crashing down by the time that milk is expired. I don't make hair or dentist appointments, I don't sign up for baby emails, I don't do anything in advance of that date. Because it is such a huge date for us that I need to let it get here. If I anticipate it too much, I might be let down. If I make plans afterward, I will remember that I set that appointment before......it happened.

I know it sounds crazy. As does much of what I blog about these last few weeks. I guess it's just all those feelings and emotions that come along on this journey. And most wouldn't understand. But seeing these future dates have been bothering me for a while now....and there is nothing I can do about it. Just get past it. And of course I don't want to wish time away, because I have precious time on my hands right now. Every day I am carrying this little boy is a gift. I wouldn't give that up for the world. But I know futures are uncertain. And there is pain...just as there is happiness. But I just don't know what is out there for us. I know both sides....all too well. And I don't want to see or hear another February 11th (or later) date, until I have mine. And it is all good.

Scared

2011-01-26T18:56:00.000-08:00

Many times I have set down to write this post and the words are hesitant or I am simply interrupted. I don't have much time now, either so I'm typing this in hopes that I can get a little bit out of what I mean by this post title.

I have read, with great interest, the posts of many other BLM's regarding their pregnancies of their rainbow babies. I know there are several others out there that are on this journey and to hear their stories sometimes makes mine a little more understandable or easier to handle. I am sitting here typing and can hear the three kids playing in their bedrooms laughing and giggling together and there is not a more beautiful noise in this world than this to me. I love hearing them play together and I think about how lucky I am to have created that and to be able to raise them. I think I should be grateful and so happy, which I am. Totally. Yet there is the whole that Chase left in our hearts. That great emptiness that we all feel missing him so incredibly deeply, crying over him still to this day almost 21 months later, feeling the pain we felt the day he left us. And so there is our rainbow baby....growing in my tummy, for all to see and to love and to feel his movements and to talk to. And we all love him so much and are so excited for his arrival.

But we are still scared. Everyone of us. Some show it more than others, but we all feel it. Karly asked me last weekend while laying on my bed with me, "mom, what if we don't bring the baby home?" I didn't know what to say. Because I feel the same way. She continued, "because if we don't, all this is a waste," pointing to all the baby clothes and things in the crib and around the room. Tears spilled out of her eyes. She looked sad. Worried. I said, "We'll deal with it Kar. Because we have to and because we are strong. But I know, I know that we will bring this baby home this time." But I say that for her benefit because I see the pain and the fear in her eyes. For me, on the other hand, I have a constant battle between my head and my heart. My heart knows this baby is coming home with us, but my head knows that other things can happen....because they do. Not always for any reason, sometimes for specific reasons. This is life. But as we get closer to this baby's due date, and we plan for his arrival, and we celebrate him....I feel more and more rooted in to the public side of this journey. The part where others want to share in your happiness, celebrate your pregnancy and provide comfort for the culminating moments of birth. There is no hiding it....in a small town anyway. Everywhere I go, my belly precedes me and I don't want to be the woman who lost her baby again. Some days I still can't believe I'm here. Wearing the faces of pregnancy in front of the whole wide world. When I lost Chase, I knew I wanted to get pregnant as soon as it was safe to do so. But I didn't want to share it with anyone but my family. I wanted to stay holed up in my house and not come out until I had a baby in my arms....and even then probably not much! I hated being so broken in front of everyone. I hated every flower delivery that came to the house...and there were so many. I hated every card we received in the mail. At the funeral, I felt so bad for everyone being so sad there and it was all because of us. I know it is messed up to think this way, but I felt like in some ways, I had to let others grieve in their way so that I could then grieve in my own way...privately. As far as a pregnancy, though, I just couldn't imagine going through another pregnancy and everyone seeing me progress....thinking the whole time that this was the baby "after the baby". Not that I cared what anyone thought, just that I wanted to be alone, just us, in case something happened again.....and then there wouldn't be all the pain for everyone again.

Crazy, I know. It sounds ludicrous to type it out and I still can't even get it to make much sense to me. I want this baby so bad....I just want a guarantee that if anyone gets hurt again, it's just me because I didn't share any of it with anyone else. Because really, everyone just wants the best for you and they are, in at least some sense, putting their heart out there for you, too, to bring this one home. Anything else would be nothing less than heartbreaking...all over again.

And then there are the "things". I didn't get rid of anything when Chase died. I used the baby lotion I had (still using it actually) received at the shower and I still have all the baby diapers and wipes and even baby wash and of course the clothes. Some are packed away in his box or my shadow box but I knew in my heart that one day, Chase's little sibling would wear them so no way was I going to give them away. These things, though, stare at me every day. They remind me what it feels like to not get to use them. I can't do that again. I can't. I'm scared to death of that. And so is Karly. So I don't really know what to say to her. Other than whatever lies ahead of us, we will face together....and we will come out of it together. And in my heart of hearts, I know that we will get love this little one, physically, in our very own arms. Very soon.

Lessons Learned

2011-01-19T12:42:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I feel like I really have damaged my kids. I tried to teach them, leading by example, to conquer their fears yesterday, but I realized to a greater extent the trauma that they felt last week by our little accident.

After we "recovered" from the icy slide down the mountain in our SUV, I had in my mind, decided to change piano teachers--to never go back up that mountain, never even call that teacher back. However, I was having a discussion with Emma over the weekend about facing our fears and not letting them run our lives in a way that would always direct us toward what was the safe or "easy way out". It really had to do with her desire for swimming and losing her brother. Ever since Chase died, she has not felt the same or had the same drive to swim and she is confused about what she is going to feel when the new baby comes because she really misses Chase and just wants him back. She's afraid to swim for her new little brother for fear of the unexpected. I told her if she didn't give swimming another chance and see how she felt about it, it was like running away from it. She asked me why I wasn't going back to our hospital here to have the new baby then, and I told her that was for specific reasons that we had in our control, like the level of medical care that we required and the risks involved with delivering at our small town hospital again. But I told her it would be like me never driving up a mountain road again after last week, or not ever going back to that piano teacher because I was too scared of driving up there. I told her that this was a really good piano teacher and just because of what happened on that icy road on that one day, we couldn't let that affect our decision to go back and give piano lessons another try. Of course as soon as I said it, I knew that I had to reschedule those lessons and head back up that mountain. *gulp*

So with this valuable lesson at hand, we headed back up that mountain yesterday for Emma's first piano lesson. I was prepared to use 4 wheel drive, and I was prepared to take a different route. What I wasn't prepared for, was the fear that ensued in my kids' eyes, the terror that made them tremble as we drove up that road again, the horrible thoughts going through their minds of sliding down the side of the road at any given time, despite, dry, paved-slash-gravel roads. And I have to say, seeing that road again, I was scared, too. So we stopped, turned around and headed up another route. Unfortunately, that route wasn't any better. The roads only got steeper and narrower and only went one way: UP. The kids got more scared the further I went. Karly was crying, Reese was wanting me to stop and Emma had her fingernails chewed down to nothing. Beings I was lost anyway, I turned around, drove back down the mountain and we started over. We parked at the bottom of the hill that we slid down, got out and walked. Reese was still worried that I didn't have enough room to safely get out of the care and wasn't convinced until he got out of the car and could see for himself. We walked up to the teacher's house and while Emma had her lessons, Karly, Reese and I entertained ourselves, mostly talking about how we were going to get back down from where we parked. This street, though maintained by the city, is at least a 30-35 degree incline, probably more because of the curve. And as I didn't have the smartest shoes on my feet, I still was at risk for falling on my bum, which would not have been good. So I told the kids I needed help and Reese grabbed my hand, tight, and said, "Don't worry mom, I will never let you go." Karly had my other hand and Emma was right there and we made it back to the car. Safe and sound. No accidents.

But this experience made me realize a little more precisely, the effect that last week had on the kids. A cop had warned us the trauma that it might have caused and suggested we talk to them each separately about it and their role in helping mom get out. And we did. But putting them through that yesterday, I felt guilty for causing their fears at the time. I still hope and pray that they will learn to conquer their fears and that maybe this will help teach that lesson a little bit. No matter how scary it is....as long as decisions are made soundly and in good judgement. We talk about it a lot. I hope they won't forget this the first time they get behind the wheel, especially if it is in mountain country. And maybe they will be a little more cautious, a little more brave, a little more responsible than if this had never happened to them.

Here are two pics of the car and what the ravine looked like. The car was already pulled out--we were stuck on the culvert at the time. I do want to show the road now, too, because it looks even more ominous without the snow. I will post that pic when I get it.

Luck

2011-01-11T20:41:00.000-08:00

My family was very lucky today. And as I lay in bed with them kissing them goodnight, I realize exactly how lucky we were. How quickly everything could have changed for the worst and yet again our world turned upside down. I realize that I am very lucky to be sitting down to supper with my family, to help them with their homework, to sit in a foot bath while they pamper me with a foot massage. Because if things would have happened differently, we might not all be here, or we might be spending the night in the hospital tonight. But I am laying here in bed with my kids and life is going on, almost as if nothing had ever happened. We talk about our fears and what scared us.....but it is almost mute because we are all here laying together. And talking. And we are here.

On our way to music lessons, we slid down an icy road, headed toward a ravine with about a 15-20foot drop and then somehow found ourselves stopped, teetering (literally) on the edge of the road, two or three wheels on the ground, I'm not sure which, but very close to the edge and very close to falling into the ravine. Amidst hysteria and terrorizing fear, the kids got out of the car to safety while I remained in the driver's seat unable to move while Emma held the backseat passenger door open where the kids and dog exited....for fear of sending the SUV off balance down into the ravine.

Patric arrived in minutes, then shortly after the cops, firemen, ambulance and a tow truck, all came to help stabilize the vehicle so I could get out. I don't know how long it took but I was able to exit the vehicle unscathed and we watched as they eventually pulled the car out. We were all unharmed. But it could have been different. Of course my biggest concern after getting the kids out was sustaining a fall, myself, in the vehicle that would not be good for the baby. During the skid, while we were falling toward the ravine, all I could picture was what might happen; how we would fall, then roll, and what to do during all of this. The fact that we stopped at all is a miracle. And the terror in the kids' eyes to see me remain in the car was the worst part. Knowing all that they have been through and are going through, I would never want to scare them like this.....thinking mom was in danger....again. And the baby.....again.

But we are fine. We are all fine. No one was hurt. Thank God. But for some weird reason, I feel very weird about this dose of luck we have been dealt. Almost like we/I don't deserve it. We were so unlucky with Chase, that now that we were lucky today, I almost feel unworthy of it. I don't mean that I was recklessly driving or not paying attention or something, we were going very slow because of the road. I just didn't put the 4x4 in when I should have, despite having thought about it. That part happened fast, but the skidding...seemed slow motion. However, after being on the short end of the stick as far as luck goes, it's weird to be on the other end. And it makes me wonder about the baby. I wonder if I will feel unworthy when he is born.....I am so used to being unlucky now. Because, remember, all I really wanted was Chase in the first place.

Believe me, though, I am counting our lucky stars tonight. And looking back on the situation, amidst the panic and fear in the kids, I felt calm. Relatively speaking. Not how I would have thought I would have reacted before Chase died. I know someone was there helping us today; taking care of us. And I feel it was Chase....and God. Chase helped me to stay calm and keep my wits about me, though I was terrified of falling without a doubt. Tears were falling, but I was stable, my belly was "normal" (not too hard, still moving!) and I was, in my opinion maybe not Patric's, holding it together, thinking as smartly as I could in the situation (i.e., not trying to get out when it wasn't smart to do so). And I feel like I was protected somehow. Blessed by a god who has more power than I do in that kind of situation. And taken care of by my little angel, who follows us everywhere we go, doing more for us than I'm sure we are ever aware of.

So thank you Chase for helping us. And thank you God....for letting us be lucky today.

Difficult questions, even harder answers

2011-01-06T21:26:00.000-08:00

As we are nearing the end of this pregnancy, I've been asked a few questions lately that have had me thinking.... recapturing.....evaluating and re-evaluating. The answers aren't easy; they aren't simple; they aren't even very clear....let alone easy to explain. And because I can hardly get the words out in my thoughts to do this, I'm using this space to help me sort it all out.

I had a friend ask me, "so how are you handling the emotional side of this?" Coming from a babyloss mom herself, who has held her own rainbow for only seven months, I know she fully understands the emotions that I am facing and about to face as the weeks fly by. But I don't know, to be honest. I anticipate a barrage of emotions when we finally get to meet Chase's little brother, this gift....I have thought about it a lot. The moment we lay eyes upon him, the moment we hold him, the feel of his soft hair, the smell, the sounds.... But this entire pregnancy I have felt lifted up. By a higher power or someone greater than me. Rather, I have felt swept off my feet--in a good way! In our 7 month journey of trying to get pregnant (we had to wait 6 months before we had the green light) after we had Chase, as bad as I wanted to get and be pregnant, I was sure that I would be ~~scared~~ petrified throughout the entire pregnancy....that something would go wrong and we'd lose one again. In this babyloss world I have not only found comfort, but I have also gained an immense amount of knowledge of what all has and can and will go wrong with any given pregnancy at any given time. And this knowledge is frightening. I wish, just like I wish I didn't know the pain of losing a child, that I didn't know all these things that can go wrong with a pregnancy. However, it is with this knowledge that I have been able to love this pregnancy for what it is....not what it will be but for what I am blessed with right now. And that is a baby boy in my womb whom I am growing and loving every day. It's one of the most wonderful feelings in the world! I enjoy so much more in this pregnancy than I did with the other 4. I was a bit sad towards the end of my pregnancy with Chase because I thought it would be my last and I would miss feeling baby kicks and movements. But I did not appreciate it for exactly what it was at the time. I knew I was lucky--I had miscarriages. I was fortunate to even be pregnant and I knew that. But I still took it for granted to some extent. Not so with this pregnancy. And I credit Chase for that. I have received so much better medical care this time around....but it is Chase who has swept me up and laid this blanket of peace over me, allowing me to enjoy this pregnancy, get to know this little boy and love the life we have right now. Today. I have seen Chase in the clouds. I have felt his presence to some extent. But I know he is part of this experience....somehow.....every day. To not be consumed with horrible thoughts of this baby dying has been a blessing these past 7 1/2 months. That's not to say that I have not worried about things or been scared at points in the pregnancy--but when I do have those moments, I thank my lucky stars for how long I have had with this baby in my tummy. I give him an extra squeeze or rub my belly and talk to him and feel him move and kick in response. And for that I am extremely grateful. And happy.

So emotionally, I have been handling this pregnancy very well. Now, as the end nears, it has felt more surreal to me. To see new onesies or burp cloths or pacifiers come in (thanks to MIL at Christmas!), and think that they are not for Chase but for someone else, is a bit odd. I'm used to seeing baby things...because I have had them around since before Chase was born. But to actually look at them and then picture a new baby....not my sweet Chase's picture....is surreal. I am so excited to meet this baby, but in some ways, I am scared of what I will feel when I first see him and hold him. In what way will Chase impact this occasion? I am so used to finding sadness in any happy moment in our lives that I want to miss Chase and love the new baby all at once, yet I am not sure how to do that. Or how I will feel, or act, or respond. The pain of losing Chase is still new. It's been 20 months, but it seems like so much less. I'm not sure if this is clear, or even answers the question. Some days it makes sense. Some days it's clear as mud and very confusing to me.

I had a very close IRL friend call me up and tell me that there were some that wanted to throw a surprise baby shower for me but she wanted to talk to me about it because there was so much question trying to make it surprise. I was not expecting this at all -- so the first thing I told her was that I just didn't want any gifts. First of all, it's my 5th pregnancy so other than having very caring friends, I'm not really entitled to another baby shower under normal circumstances. I'm not outfitting a nursery by any means and I don't have an item list of baby gear I need. Besides (now enter the grief factor), the number of people that would come has dropped, and the ones that would come had bought me gifts for Chase already...which I still have and of course have not used them and there is a practicality factor in baby showers, right? She was very open to my thoughts and desires on this but didn't want to tell people not to buy gifts when the people who were wanting to do this clearly want to celebrate this occasion for me and my family and bringing a gift was something they would want to do to celebrate with us. I understand that people are happy for us and wanting this baby for us almost as badly as we do ourselves. But to explain to someone the feelings of guilt, failure, and pain of going through the loss of a child....and then to go through another whole pregnancy again in front of the same people is nearly impossible. I can't even sort it out in my own mind. There's just a feeling of guilt that someone bought you something that you never got a chance to use.....because you didn't bring him home. Then your pain and your life being so public as you attempt to continue life, taking your kids to their activities and picking them up from school...when all you really want to do is crawl in a hole and not emerge until you do have a babe in your arms. I don't know why I would feel guilty for this--it wasn't like it was our fault that Chase died and no one else thinks that either. It's just something grief has done for me. And then of course, there is the jinxing factor. Like I don't want to get any gifts for the baby for fear our luck will run out once again and we won't bring this one home either. Buying stuff for him, which I have not done yet, is like just a glutton for punishment, right? Well maybe for those of us in baby loss land but for "normal" people who haven't experienced this pain, probably seems completely absurd. Insane. Morbid. Definitely pessimistic, in the least. So I struggle to find the words that explain this messed up world we live in...but I certainly appreciate and feel blessed to have people who care this much about me in my life. It is certainly very humbling to be thought of and cared about in such a way. As I said, originally I would have preferred to be invisible throughout all of this but I guess through the grace of God, or Chase, or something, I have allowed myself to share this pregnancy with those who have participated in it with me...or who have just been there for me or a part of my life in some way. And I am grateful for those.....for letting me share...for not judging me for closing up or for sharing too much .... when there is no way to understand or imagine what it is we are going through. And it is under these circumstances that I would love to celebrate this baby with my friends...it should be celebrated....it needs to be celebrated. We will enjoy female conversations, some nonalcoholic cocktails and share the happiness that I feel and that they feel about this new life I am carrying and the hope it has given our family despite the sadness of losing Chase.

So again, not a real clear answer or explanation about a shower....but just some of the things I have been trying to sort out in my own mind. So much for sorting.... ;o)

Christmas Joys

2010-12-29T11:49:00.000-08:00

Christmas Morning 2010

Remembering Chase Always

We had a wonderful Christmas Day this year as my sister and her family visited us from Nebraska. The cousins had a wonderful time with their cousins and we did several holiday traditions including, but not limited to, sledding, making reindeer food, Christmas cookies, and opening presents. The time flew by as I knew it would and now I am sitting here reflecting how thankful I am that my family was able to visit and share such an joyous event with us. Christmas morning was again an emotional time for me and as much joy as I found in this little one kicking me and constantly loving on me with his movements as well as sharing this time with my sister, the pain and sadness of Chase not being amongst all this chaos tore at my heartstrings. I know he was here.....just not how I wanted it to be. I love and miss you little man. As much as the day you were born.

Merry Christmas to all....

2010-12-18T15:18:00.000-08:00

Merry Whimsy Christmas

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Christmas festivities

2010-12-16T21:32:00.000-08:00

We are so very busy right now. Some days I can't believe how hectic things are. Then the next day seems to be just as if not more hectic and I begin to wonder if things will ever slow down. Here are some pics of the programs the kids have been performing in.

Reese's Kindergarten Program with Santa afterwards.

The kids at their church program.

I will post this on my other blog but I did want to mention that I had to go to the hospital (here) to get my weekly BPP & NST done here...something I was having some anxiety about since I have not been back to the OB dept since Chase was born. I had avoided as much of the hospital as I could and was hoping to skip out on this appointment but decided to meet it head on. I called in the morning to the OB nurse's station to make sure they were expecting me the day of my appointment and the nurse who answered happened to be my nurse I had when I was in labor all day with Chase. I had not seen her or spoken to her since then and she was the one single person I had secretly wanted to encounter....yet did not want to at the same time. The day ended up being crazy because one of the kids was sick, the other ended up needing labs done that day, then went on to school, so my plan of not going to this appointment unaccompanied did not pan out...and I needed to just get it over with.

The ultrasound tech was very nice and she totally caught me off guard by telling me the baby had lots of hair already. And she showed me how she could tell--that was one of the coolest things I had never seen before. Then when I went to get my NST done, I was met by my old nurse and we hugged and cried together for a brief moment. A moment that was so long awaited for, yet so distant in my mind, too. I had thought so much of her and was never able to discuss the events that had taken place with her and to finally get that chance was almost like the last missing link to my puzzle. She was so happy to see me there under the circumstances (being pregnant) yet the tragedy was so fresh for both of us. I am not sure I will go back, but if I have to....I will. My Abq appointments continue next week and this pregnancy just keeps moving along, fairly uneventful and peaceful. This is a picture at 31 weeks with Reese after his Christmas Program. He loved taking pictures with me during Chase's pregnancy--always had to put his hand on my tummy. So, so precious.

Giveaway Winners

2010-12-11T07:47:00.000-08:00

Sorry it has taken me so long to post the winners this morning. Thank you to everyone who entered and thank you for leaving sharing those things that are important to you. Many gave me ideas for things I would like to have or create. I also met many new BLM friends and read their stories that I had not come across yet. For me, this is the one of the biggest reasons for participating in this project and though I am sad for all of us even being part of this community, it is always nice to meet someone new that you can relate to and who understands your feeling, thoughts, worries, etc. Right? Thank you again, sweet Tina for creating this opportunity for us all. The network you have started and nurture is priceless to us!

Now for the winners.....

The random number generator chose the numbers and they are.......#18 & #6. Congratulations to Teresa Farmer and The Zoo! My email is on my profile page. Contact me and I will get you your coupon codes! Thanks to all, again, for entering and sharing your stories with me.

Don't forget to check out today's giveaway on Tina's blog!

25 Days of Giveaways

2010-12-10T06:52:00.000-08:00

Today is my giveaway for the 25 Days of Giveaways. Thank you to Tina for this wonderful idea of helping babyloss moms through the holidays. I remembered doing this last year and it was certainly a needed "distraction" during such a difficult time. Our thoughts are never very far away from our babies but at least there was a focus....something to think about and look forward to each day and share with others that are on this journey. I met several BLM friends through this and, as I have already this month, have found new stories and old stories and some of them very similar to what I went through. These friends helped me through tough days and I would do the same with comforting comments or emails, letting them know someone else was walking very close to them on a very similar path. This community is therapy for many of us....therapy we could have paid a professional for, but never received the empathy of "I've been there...so I know how you feel." Thank you to everyone out there who has helped a fellow baby loss mom out with kind and comforting comments, an email, a letter, or whatever form of support you offer.

And on to my giveaway! When Chase died, my sister found this wonderful website and worked with the creator on a custom canvas that perfectly represented our little boy. They spent a lot of time on getting the art just right, the words just right and everything she wanted it to say.....while keeping it a secret from me the entire time! The creator of this website is an artist that loves every piece she creates and does so with a compassion and care that gives the customer the most adorable, special piece of art to display. The balloons on this canvas are the exact colors that we sent off to Chase the day we got home from the hospital, the number of balloons for each person in our family, his stats, the words that we said to him. Everything was perfect--couldn't have been more fitting. She also had a Picture Pal made that matched the canvas! It was very touching and I was very emotional when she gave it to me. Thank you to Therese for all her time in creating the special piece for me and my family!

So this is what I am giving away today......TWO (2) $25 gift certificates to Farmhouse Five for you to choose your special piece(s) for your little one. I promise you will absolutely love her store and find several things to choose from. The quality of work is amazing....just like her talent. Leave me a comment and if you like, tell me what is your most special "thing" that you have made or had made that represents your angel baby. Tonight I will use random.or.g. to choose the winners so check back tomorrow to see if it is you!

Thanks for reading & Happy Holidays to you all!

An ugly post....for BLMs only

2010-12-03T15:57:00.000-08:00

I hate to follow that post of such positivity with this one....but my blog has come to my aid countless times providing me with comfort and support from the only people in the world who truly can understand me and empathize with me for being the social outkast because my baby died: other BLMs. And so I share this....

I have not vented nor had the need to vent, about lost and broken friendships for several months. Those doors are closed, or so I thought, and I am focused on what matters in my life: my family. Not friendships that appear smooth on the surface while causing me pain underneath. I no longer have room in this heart of mine that has been slowly pieced back together, though one piece will forever be missing. My circle has definitely shrunk. And my family is really my center point and where I get all the love, nourishment, companionship, and entertainment from. I just wish what was in my head was the same as what is in my heart.

I don't know if I have written about the doctor and his family leaving town but they did this summer and it gave me a small peace of mind knowing I don't have to worry about turning the corner and running into them or seeing them on the road, etc. My guard was lifted a tiny bit. And I probably have written about losing friendships because the doctor's wife is still friends with those in our old circle, while we are not. I had "friends" tell me that we need to remember that this tragedy happened to TWO families in this town, theirs and ours. Though it was our son who died while theirs get kisses and hugs from them every day. As if it is important enough to mention, I was once very close friends with his wife, but our friendship fell apart about a year before I became pregnant with Chase. I have never been able to decide if this severed friendship led to the demise of my patient/doctor relationship during my prenatal care or not. There was nothing offered or received from her after the birth or death of Chase so all of it is neither here nor there in my mind. The problem I had was the support my friends were offering her rather than me. Why was it so important to them to remind me that she was not in the delivery room or that horrible operating room where her husband cut into me while I was screaming my lungs out and hitting him.....hours, hours, after he should have done something to save Chase, but was just too arrogant to admit that he might need to be concerned about the care he had given up to that point.

This has surfaced once again because though the family has relocated, she apparently, is back in town...for a party. A party with my former friends, whom I really wonder why I ever called them my friends or me theirs. This is one of those "clicky" desperate housewife type parties that the invite list changes every year--depending on the party thrower. I have never made the cut anyway, which is funny I know (pie in my face), unlucky me--whatever. But this year, they went out of their way to invite her again.....so she could make a special flight back into town just for it. Makes it sound like a pretty special party, huh? I thought so, too. These are the same friends who threw the doctor and his family a going away party this summer in a town three hours away bidding farewell to them with hugs and kisses and nice gifts. Wow--that kind of support for the man who did all this to me? Do they know that....or have they just forgotten? From the people who were supposed to be my friends? They never offered me that kind of support. Unless you call coming into my home the second Chase died to break down my crib and remove all my baby belongings so I wouldn't have any reminders of him when I walked in the door. Really? LIke I was going to leave Albuquerque and forget about my dead son if the crib and his clothes were not in my room anymore? At the time I tried to look into this with the best of intentions and understand these things as best I could. But wow, 1 yr 7mo2wk and 2 days into this grief cycle and it sounds insanely absurd to me now. If they would have truly known me and been my real friends, they would have known that that baby furniture had been in my bedroom far longer than it had not over the prior 5 years and removing it from my room under normal circumstances would have not even felt right to me. It was definitely not going to be something to send me over the edge coming home from the hospital without my baby in my arms. Quite the contrary, in all actuality, but again, how would they know that.

My anger comes out again....not from my heart, but from my head. A conflict so very difficult to mend....and will forever keep me out of balance. But my heart is in the right place. It is my head that still seeks confrontation and closure, which I will never get. Not the closure I want. When I ask what I could have possibly done to these people to make them so nonchalantly continue including this family in their lives and support them, someone said to me, "they just don't know what to say to you probably." Not. They feel guilty for supporting that family and not supporting ours.....despite over 30 years of knowing our family. I'm only venting here because it is the therapy I need. I don't seek their friendship or their comfort or their companionship. I am a different person. One they will never understand and will never know and I don't expect or desire that to change. I am getting this anger and frustration off my chest (out of my head) so I can once again lay it to rest without being judged.....and just hope it doesn't ever surface again. Because rest assured you'll hear about it here if it does. *sigh*

A ladybug, a shower, a shooting star and my little rainbow butterfly

2010-12-02T21:12:00.000-08:00

I can't believe Thanksgiving is already over. We had a wonderful holiday with family but it went too fast. I have read on blogs of other BLMs about the significance of things that never used to be significant. Our family sees the simplest things from a whole new point of view since saying goodbye to Chase. When we packed up the vehicle and were saying our farewells to the family, a peculiar thing happened; though I doubt it would have been as peculiar had Chase been in my arms. When I opened the car door for the kids, immediately I saw a ladybug on the seat. I really wish I would have taken a picture of it because I had never seen a ladybug so big and with so many spots on it. Never like this. It almost seemed to have character as I picked it up and showed the kids, whom were all intrigued by the little bug. Of course they referred to it as Chase right away and wanted to bring it with us. I, too, wanted to think of it as Chase. But the rational side of me says it's a bug, we don't need to bring it in the car. However, when I picked "him" up, he snuggled right in under my watch and I couldn't get to him without removing my watch and picking him out of the buckle. It was a little odd and I really did think of this ladybug as either Chase or a gift from Chase or some sort of connection. I felt this way because I felt the freedom to think and feel freely about this little beauty--as a result of my perspective on the universe since Chase passed. I was comforted in a way while listening to the kids play in the backseat, talking to Chase (the ladybug, who was in the console between them) and including them in their imaginitive play. Thinking....wishing it was all real.

***

Our holiday tripped was capped off by a surprise baby shower that Emma had planned and, with the help of her aunts, threw for me the night before we left. I had suspected Emma was trying to plan something a few weeks ago and emailed my sisters telling them I just didn't want a baby shower this time and wasn't ready to buy or receive a bunch of baby gear and stuff for this baby yet. I want to celebrate Chase again this year and didn't want to feel like I was overlooking him by prematurely celebrating the next baby, when, as we know it, is not guaranteed. Right? However twisted it is, that was my feeling about a shower but I told them (my sisters) that I also didn't want to take anything away from big sister Emma who might want to be a part of or organize something like a baby shower. If anyone could police this plan, I could trust my sisters to do it gracefully and tactfully, satisfying and fulfilling both hers and my wishes.

It was beautiful. It was sweet. It was fun. It was special. It was intimate--just my sisters and their kids/husbands. It was absolutely perfect. Emma had everything planned from the games we played (the kids had a blast!), to the decorations (a sign made that said "Chase has brought us a gift. A baby boy!"), to the design on the cake (an angel in the clouds and a baby with a stork) and everything in between. And Aunt Lyn & Aunt Meg made it happen! They told me that Emma had contacted them about this shower the day that we told the kids we were pregnant--so that was at least 4 months ago! She had even written me a poem and framed it. You can read it here. The memories we made that night were priceless for all of us. I am so grateful to have sisters that will go to those measures to make my family happy and a daughter with such a big heart.

***

I was talking to Reese the other day about Christmas gifts and asked him teasingly what he was going to get me this year. He said he wanted to give me a picture of Chase but that he was sad that we had all we were going to get for pictures of him and we couldn't get a new one. But then his smile perked right up and he said, "I know, Mom. I will take a picture of something beautiful and put it with glass and wrap it for you. Because, you know, everything that is beautiful is Chase."

***

I had an appointment yesterday and went by myself. The baby is doing fine--measuring 3.7 lbs and nearly 15 inches already (in the 71st %-ile). That is reassuring and all but unfortunately I am a product of "there are no guarantees in life" so when I see him on the screen, I see him for what he is today. What this little angel looks like today that is kicking me all the time and moving all about. And I love that. I cherish it and could watch him on the screen all day long. It is such a gift growing this little person inside me and I couldn't be more privileged to be in this position. But I can't help but think every time we get these BPPs with "all the points" that Chase was just like that. He got all those points on each BPP, too. Yet he is not here with us and it is still no different than missing a limb or other part of my body. Anger ensues and I thank my lucky stars that I have the best doctors and best facilities I know to take me through this pregnancy but hate myself for not taking those measures with Chase's pregnancy. Those thoughts don't overtake me, but they linger, and they will never go away. I walk out of the room with a smile on my face and joy in my heart, holding my precious little one tucked away in my belly....yet broken on the inside missing a piece of my ever growing heart.

On the way home from this appointment, I received a gift. I was in the desert part of my drive in pitch black night skies; nothing but the stars looking down on me. I looked up out of the side window just in time to see the brightest shooting star I have ever seen. Ever! It was amazing. And it was a long one! The longest one I had ever seen. Just like the ladybug, I felt comfort in this star because it had to be a sign from Chase, there was no other way I would ever look at it. And again, as crazy as it sounds, this was my gift from him--in my eyes. But I have the privilege of seeing it this way, because of this universe that I now live in. So amazingly different from where I used to be.

Happy Birthday Ethan!

2010-11-18T09:55:00.000-08:00

You are loved and missed. We hope you and Chase and all your friends are having extra special fun today!

A very busy weekend

2010-11-08T20:45:00.001-08:00

We are finally home and I am unpacked from a weekend of going this way and that, splitting up and getting back together, starting and almost ending together, too! Thursday was our doctor appointment, which is always very time consuming, and the kids stuck it out, waiting patiently (as patiently as we could expect anyway) in the waiting room. The look on their faces when they got to see the ultrasound pics was worth it, though. They loved seeing their little brother! Then went to a fun concert that the kids enjoyed (mostly) and was a "blast from the past" for us--since they sang mostly 90's songs. :o) Then the girls & I did swim meet while the boys went back for Reese's last soccer game.

Anyway, they came back for the 2nd day of the swim meet and Reese had his Chase book packed in his backpack. He had taken it to school last week but I had a talk with him about how to share it; and that I didn't really want his teacher to read it to the whole class (mostly because I know she wouldn't/couldn't and I would never expect her to) because it was our (semi) private book that we shared as a family. It wasn't really a book to read to the class, I told him. He was okay with that but still wanted it in his back pack and I was fine with that. Sometimes we need to have something physical with us honoring Chase, memories don't always cut it. So when he had it with him at the hotel, it was our reading material for the night.

We were already in bed so I asked Emma to read it to him since they were sleeping together. As I lay there in bed listening to her read, I pictured every page and every picture as I have that book etched in my brain. Partly because I made it and partly because there are only so many pictures I have directly relating to or of Chase and they are in the kids' books. As I expected, Emma reached the last third of the book and her voice started quivering and tears began to fall. I ached for her, for me, for all of us, and laid there in a puddle of tears and as soon as she finished, I got up and walked over to her, leaned over and gave her a long kiss on her forehead and cried with her. I gave Reese a kiss, too and he asked me to lay with him so I did. We talked about Chase for a little bit and then I told him that the baby was kicking me like crazy and he couldn't wait to meet his biggest brother. Reese told me, "I know, if we get to bring him home." I told him that we were going to bring this baby home and he said, "maybe." Twice more I bluntly and specifically promised him that we were going to bring this baby home and he kept doubting me and then finally said, "but you don't know that, mom." This shattered my already broken heart and I cried as silently as I could laying there next to him but this did not go unnoticed. Finally he said, "can you cut it out, the crying?" I had never heard him say "cut it out" so it almost made me smile. I told him I loved him. And then he said, "you are the greatest mom in the world" and my broken heart melted.....back into place as I continue on this journey of life without our sweet little Chase.

A Dream I have been waiting for....

2010-11-02T20:27:00.000-07:00

I wanted to document this dream this morning but have not had time to sit down and put it to words. I have thought about it a lot and told it to Patric, but even as the day passes, the vividness of the dream does, too.

It seemed so real. Unbelievable, yet real. We were in the hospital as we had received word from the doctors, I guess, that Chase was finally improving--like he had been comatose or something. We were in the hospital, though, and I was in a hospital gown, still recovering or something. I saw him open his eyes in the isolette and I hobbled over to him as quickly as I could. But he was his age now, 1 1/2. He was bigger, his hair was a little longer, a little curly. His eyes were opened and I was so happy. He was laying there and he looked at me and said "mommy" and I was just so happy. Already, my recollection is choppy but we got to hold him. He had only a couple tubes coming out of his chest, so we had to be careful, but he was very strong, actually completely normal if it weren't for the 2 little tubes. It was just so wonderful to be holding him and talking to him and kissing and hugging him. I don't remember where the dream led to, but what was really weird, was that each time he met or saw someone for the first time, he already knew them. He would say their name before they would speak. He already knew everyone in our family yet we had not seen him since he was born. I wanted so badly to take a picture of him but I didn't have my camera. I wanted to take a picture of him on my phone and send him to my friends but I couldn't get it to work. This was just to bizarre but it was so real and it was so wonderful that we got him back. The dream moved on and I don't think we were in the hospital anymore. It amazed me so much that he already knew us. And then I asked him if he knew God and he said, "yes". Like he just came from there or something.

This is the last thing I remember before waking up abruptly. I was so sad to realize this was a dream. I could have cried had I not been half asleep and too exhausted to. I went to the bathroom in a daze and returned to bed making myself resume this wonderful dream. I just wanted to see Chase again. And I did. I went back to dreaming this wonderful, amazing dream of having him back with us but this time in the dream, I knew I would wake up eventually. This time I knew it was only a dream. But it was finally the dream I had been waiting for.

An emotional journey

2010-10-25T20:54:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I forget. I get so used to these kicks in my growing tummy and feeling them all throughout the day, every day, and I forget that I am the only one who has these constant reminders of this angel that is soon to be gracing our arms, our home, our hearts. I spent the morning with Emma last Friday in the doctor's office waiting to have a terrible rash of hers looked at, which turned out to be an allergy. But I was grateful for the alone time we spent together. We read, we talked, she watched some TV but mostly we talked. She was very emotional and I thought this had maybe brought on or aggravated her rash, she was so emotional. She wanted reassurance, or guarantee, that the baby was going to be fine. And then she wanted just to talk about Chase. She didn't want Chase to be forgotten when we brought this baby home. Chase was/is her little brother. He reminded us all of her and she was so proud of that. This was very special to her and she didn't want that to ever go away....even though everything feels so distant the more time passes. I tried to share with her my experience with this pregnancy....my reassurances, my signs from Chase, my peacefulness, the physical signs, the kicks, the messages that this baby was sending me. These things I feel constantly. I wish I could give her all those things that I have that help me feel peace, but I can't. I put her hand on my tummy and she patiently waited and felt the baby kick and a glow instantly appeared on her face. I told her that when this baby was born and when she held him in her arms the first time that her heart would heal in so many ways. I promised her that Chase would be there with us to share that moment and to help her, too, feel that it was OK to love this new little baby like we so badly want to love him, Chase that is. I want her to feel OK with these emotions like I do, but I forget what it's like to not have any thing to feel to remind me of Chase. Because I feel him all the time around me with this new little one. She asked me what if this baby looks a lot different from Chase, are we going to forget him? I told her this baby needs his own identity. But he is most certainly, in my opinion, a gift. A gift that Chase has helped bring us. And for this reason, Chase is always in our hearts and our minds when we prepare for and bring this baby home. Which I am most positive that we will.

But these are things we talk about. I share my feelings with her in hopes that she, too, will feel some of the same things. Because the pain is too close to think of this pregnancy any other way. There are lots of things I am worried about and scared of but I strongly feel that we need to help ourselves get through this waiting part. I can't even begin to explain how much I love feeling this baby kick me. It is purely amazing when he is going crazy in there. With the other 4 pregnancies, I never EVER thought of it the way I do now. I never appreciated it or loved it or cherished all those movements and "totally bizarre" kicks. They were just a part of being pregnant. But now I absolutely adore them. It is the coolest thing ever and I am so lucky to be carrying this little guy with me every day 24/7. I can't imagine when he is born and I have to share him with Patric & the kids! That's sometimes how I feel, honestly. Not realistic, I know, but I love carrying him right now that much. I love him that much. And I can't wait until he is part of us....on the outside, too. Thank you Chase. You are my sweet angel, my sweet baby boy. I love you so much.

Pregnancy & Infant Loss Day.....18 months Old

2010-10-15T21:40:00.000-07:00

These are most of the babies I "know" or have met through this babyloss community. I am thinking of these and so many more tonight. I wish I never knew this support group, yet I am grateful that I do. Sending prayers to you and your babies that we will be with them again one day.

Yesterday, Chase would have been 18 months old. I miss you baby boy. You are in my heart and in my soul and I know you are with us wherever we are. If only we could see you, hold you, hear you and smell you. If only...

It hurts to know so much

2010-10-13T13:12:00.000-07:00

Last night I went to check on Karly and found her deep in thought about something while she was getting ready for bed. I could tell she had something on her mind just by the way she was going about her business. In fact, her mind was almost speaking out loud. When I asked her what she was thinking about, she said, "Mom...(long pause) do you think the baby is going to be okay?" I said, "Definitely, I do, honey." And she started talking about her close friend at school whose mom just had a baby boy a couple weeks ago and how she wanted that so bad. "Hope is just so lucky."

Yes, Hope is lucky. But only you know how lucky she is, sweet girl. Hope loves her new baby brother for sure, but she doesn't have the slightest idea how incredibly lucky she is. And I wish you didn't know either, baby girl. Karly said, "It's not fair, mom." I know. It most definitely is not fair, but you will get to hold this baby brother very soon. "But mom I have to wait like 6 months or something and that is just so long." Well, not quite that long but you get to feel him move in my tummy and talk to him and you'll get to hold him in your arms soon enough. You just have to wait a little bit longer, honey.

This is the strangest thing about this pregnancy. Not only for me, but for all of us, in some ways it seems like a continuation of Chase's pregnancy. I don't know why it feels that way. The time between Chase being born and getting pregnant again certainly was real. It was painful. And it was long (or so it seemed). But now that I am pregnant and with big belly, it seems like I've been pregnant the whole time and we are still waiting for this baby to come out. Why? We all miss Chase and talk about him and ache for him daily. It's not like he's still in my tummy at all. I have heart-to-heart convos with Reese & Emma, too, about missing Chase and longing for this baby, but not wanting to forget Chase. This feeling is odd and a struggle for us all. But this is how we operate. And, as tough as it is, we are making the most of it. Loving our angel in heaven.....yet dreaming of holding our next one that is on his way to earth in due time.

Real Life

2010-10-05T13:00:00.000-07:00

I know how hard it is to parent a child in heaven. But sometimes I forget how hard it is to be a sibling to one. Last night the kids were at the table doing their homework and Emma brought in a package that had arrived from gramma. She opened the box and gave everyone their little goodies that gramma had sent. There was something for everyone....mom, dad, the three of them, and the new baby. And she was not happy. After a lot of prying and a couple threats (which I am not proud of), she spilled her feelings to me. She was upset that gramma had not sent anything for Chase. She was afraid that Chase was being forgotten and I could see it in her eyes as her tears began to flow, that this terrified her. She was happy that everyone including the baby had a present in the box, but nothing in there for Chase meant he was forgotten, to her. I explained to her that I didn't like the idea of buying things all the time for Chase as we have a big collection of memories and keepsakes for him and adding more things to that collection, is not something I wanted to deal with anyway. She insisted that it didn't have to be a lot, maybe a photo of him or a letter or note to him. She just wanted recognition of her little brother. That's all. Acknowledgement that he is part of our family and always will be even though he isn't here in our presence. I grabbed her and hugged her and told her that we were not forgetting about him. I told her we talk about him all the time and we will talk about him to his little brother every time we hold him and play with him and that this was her job, too. She knows that we do that....she told me that whenever her friends at school ask how many there are in her family, she tells them "7: me, Karly, Reese, Chase, the new baby, mom and dad." She said she doesn't explain what happened to Chase unless they ask. But she wants to say and hear his name to know that he is remembered by all and is a part of all our lives. It hurts not to feel this confirmation.

Since we were having this conversation and I was including the other two in it as well, Reese got a real sad look on his face and said to me, "I really hope we get to bring this baby home, mom." I told him that we most definitely will and then he said to me with raised up sad eyebrows, "Mom, do you have a different doctor this time?" I said, "Yes, baby, I do and you are gonna love her. She is very nice and is taking very good care of me." To that, he replied, "Good."

Woah. I looked at each of the kids and my heart felt so incredibly heavy. I could see and feel their pain, their worry, their fears and I wanted nothing more than to make it all go away. But I know I can't. I know that, like me and Patric, through all their excitement for their newest little brother and their anticipation for taking care of him and loving on him, they are scared to the very core that this, too, will be taken away. It's like we are all standing here, tightening our guts, just waiting for someone to punch us there again. Because they, too, really just want Chase back. And it's this sadness and longing that makes the rainbow very hard to see, at times, through the dark and heavy clouds in our sky above us.

Welcome....,my baby boys....

2010-10-02T07:38:00.000-07:00

I have great news. I just did not ever feel the time was right to share it here. This blog is about our life, our family. But it has been, for so long, a place for me to grieve--to talk about Chase and what he means to us and how much we miss him. Because that is what I needed this blog to be. I see my friends here, hear from them here, share with them here, all of our feelings about missing our babies. And I understand, now, how BLMs have so much trouble announcing their rainbow pregnancies. There are so many conflicting emotions, and I have been blogging may way through them over here, if you are interested. But it is time, now, to officially share our news....Enter....Pearson baby #5, due February 13th:

I can't share this news, however, without including a picture of Chase, too. He has to be on this post, right there with his little brother. He is such a big part of this baby. He is the reason this baby is here. He has helped carry me this far through this pregnancy, no doubt. But now there is a new little one to focus on, and that is hard to do, when you know all you really want to do is hold the one that should be here.

I am so incredibly happy about this pregnancy. I love this little guy already more than I ever thought possible. With every kick, every swoosh I feel from him, I feel love. I am normally not a peaceful, joyous pregnant person, but I have to say that I have enjoyed this pregnancy more with the perspective I have than I ever thought I would. I have fears, of course. I am scared out of my mind for what can happen. But somehow, I have been at peace with all those concerns. I have felt Chase carrying me, assuring me it's okay to be happy, not to be sad. There are pangs of guilt, when I see toddlers his age or when I hold his clothes or things that his little brother will now wear instead of him. But these feelings are overwhelmed by the love I feel for this little one, the joy I have, the anticipation of bringing him home and holding him.

Saying these things, typing these words, I still painfully miss my little guy. Even Emma said to me the other day....."Mom, I'm just not sure what I want more. I really am excited for the baby, but I miss Chase and I don't know if I want the new baby or Chase more. Because the new baby probably wouldn't be here if Chase was alive." We all feel it. The confusion. The emotion. The fear. A million times I have imagined this baby in my arms, carrying him out of the hospital, taking him home. But a part of me feels that there is a huge gap in there. The emptiness; a void. That something is missing in the middle of all this. And how do you move on from that? I used to wonder how I could move pass Chase and love a new baby. How could a mother just move on like that? It's not something I want to do. And I don't feel entirely like I am moving on. I feel like a part of my life stopped when Chase died. It will always feel that way. But there is not a bone in my body that won't and doesn't already love this new little baby. And that is where Chase is helping me. He is holding my hand & my heart this whole time, letting me know he is here with me, loving me and loving this baby, and that it is ok. He knows how much I love him. It is me that can't measure that, making it so hard to be okay with loving someone new now and physically giving that love to this baby instead of Chase. But he is helping me with that and I am grateful for him.

So this announcement isn't a typical "We're having a baby!" announcement. It's more than that. It's where we are with our grief, where we are with our "new normal." And it's about Chase still being with us. I feel in a way he is taking care of his little brother, they are somewhere in the same "place" right now. And when the time is right, Chase will bring his brother into our world, to hold and love on. Until then, however, I will love what I cannot hold, with every ounce of my broken heart.

A blog award

2010-09-28T18:13:00.000-07:00

My friend Karol, at Loving Laynee, has put my name on her list as an award winner. What a compliment! I love Karol's blog but hate that she ever found me or I found her in the ways we did. This tragic history we share has brought us comfort...in knowing there was someone out there who felt exactly the same way, which seems impossible. I am very thankful for this community for this reason and hope that I have offered at least some of the same comforts to those who have given me so much. These 10 blogs I check up on at any given moment, pretty regularly. But there are so many others. Some were on Karol's list, so I tried not to duplicate. Some I check in on to see how big their rainbow babies are. Some I just visit every now and then. But they all helped me. When I first found this community, I would get "lost" easily in cyberspace, wandering around from blog to blog, bookmarking or following so many of them. Because we are all on the same journey. The journey varies from person to person, but the pain is so familiar. So I hope these 10 bloggers feel as complimented as I did in receiving this acknowledgement from a friend who sadly, but gracefully, walks in the same shoes.

Here are the rules:
1. Accept the award and post it on your blog with the name of the person who has granted the award and his/her blog link.
2. Pay it forward to 10 other bloggers.
3. Contact those blog owners and let them know they have been chosen.

Looking for Blue Sky
Have You Seen The Insanity
Caring for Carleigh
The Happy Sad Mama
Footprints on Our Hearts
Living Life Without Sophia and Ellie
Through My Mother's Eyes...Vayden's Story
Missing Mackenzie
Love Reign Over Me
Two In Heaven, One on Earth

Always like this

2010-09-10T21:41:00.000-07:00

It's never a long period of time that passes when I don't read a post on one of my babyloss mom's blogs about a milestone that was reached. A year since the birth, the death, the due date....and I look at my calendar and see 1 year, 4 months 3 weeks and 2 days since Chase went to heaven. I can't believe it has been that long. A year ago I never thought of this day. I was trudging through each day as the sun rose, but I certainly did not have on my mind what my life would be like when Chase had been gone for a year and more. I didn't want to think of that time. I remember feeling like I was drowning because I wanted time to stop and because with each passing day, I felt like he was slipping further and further away from me.

This is the worst feeling, speaking from my experience, as someone who has lost a baby. When there are only so many memories to hold on to, and even fewer sweet, precious moments type of memories, to hold on to the legacy of your little one. There is an immense longing to see my little boy as a toddler. I wonder who he would look like, probably just like his big brother, but I will never know for sure. When I see babies that I suppose are near Chase's age, I always try to guess. First how old they are, then what my baby must look and act like.

I have not had the dreams I thought I would have had by now. I may have dreamt about Chase, though, and not remembered it. I had a dream a few nights ago....one that is fading because it was so.....real.....so...weird.....and so scary once I woke up. I can't remember much of it now but I remember having a baby, that I think was Chase, because it was Chase's age, but I don't remember the face. This baby was in a crib or bassinett or casket, or something, laying there, lifeless. There was another baby tinier, laying in another bed, too, lifeless. I'm sure the older one was Chase, because I had "kept" him. Somehow. Since he died. And eventually, he gasped and started breathing. And I just picked him up and held him and cried. And cried and cried. That's all I remember about my dream. I think the little baby took a breath, too, in my dream. They both "came to life". Right before my eyes. It was a very disturbing dream. I long so dearly to hold my sweet Chase, to feel him moving and hear him and touch him. And I got him back in this dream. I didn't get to "see" him really, I don't remember a face or any details...other than him coming to life finally.....after laying there this whole time....this past year plus. And I don't remember much about the other baby, either. Just that he, too, had started breathing.

And as I checkup on my BLM friends and read their stories, I realize that we are moving on, our lives continue. But then again, we are stuck. In a time when we try to remember our babies. A place where we forever will be.....until we are with them again some day.

I miss Chase as much today as I did the day he left us. I feel differently, my struggles are different, but I still ache for him. I look at his picture every day and though some times I just see the picture, there are other times when I take myself back to that very point in time....trying so hard to remember more than what is in the photograph. Wishing, still, I had more. Because as these days pass, I do feel further away from him. The pain not so sharp, but dull and everlasting. And maybe, maybe some day soon, I'll get a visit from him in a dream I can hold onto.

Are you smarter than a 5th grader...

2010-08-24T14:57:00.000-07:00

I woke up feeling off today. Not like anything is wrong, health-wise at least, just off key. Out of balance. Not balance like I have too much of one thing to do and not enough of another thing....out of balance....with the universe, or something like that. I was a little concerned feeling this way, and then we had my 5th grader's literature assignment.

She read a little story by Leo Tolstoy, a Russian author for those of you who have ever heard of him, of works like War and Peace. It's called The Three Questions and is about this king who is looking for someone to answer three questions for him: 1) Who is most important person to you? 2) When is the right time to do something? and 3) What is the most important thing to do?

Wow, when I read that, I thought, "man, could that be any more precise than if I wrote them myself?" I/we have been struggling with #2 & #3 pretty adamantly lately. When raising a family, these are very common questions we as parents ask. And if we knew the answer....if we only knew the answer.

Well the king was determined to find the answers. And when he didn't get them from his people, he left to seek out an old wise man to help him. (This was too familiar and freaky to me because feeling so off-kilter this morning I had a passing thought while I was eating breakfast that maybe I should talk to a psychic.) He took off his cloak and his crown and left them at his horse and walked up to the hut of an old hermit. This wise old hermit was busy digging holes in his garden and would not answer his questions, though, so the king took the shovel and began digging for him. He finished digging the holes and then asked the questions of the hermit again and no answer. Then a man came running at them with blood coming from his chest and his hand covering a wound and the king stopped the bleeding and took care of the man until he fell asleep. The king himself was so tired he, too fell asleep.

The next day the injured man woke up and told the king to forgive him but the king had nothing to forgive him for. Turns out the man had set out to kill the king because his brother had been killed and he could no longer afford the taxes so he had followed the king into the forest but got caught instead by some knights who attacked him. The king, however, this deed unbeknownst to him, took care of him and saved his life.

So the king then asks the hermit again why he won't answer his questions and the hermit tells him that the king has answered the questions himself already.

I'll skip a short explanation here and end the story with the last paragraph:

"Remember then: there is only one important time---Now. It is important because it is the only time when we are masters of ourselves. And the most important man is he with whom you are, for no one can know whether or not he will ever have dealings with any other man. And the most important thing to do is to do good to him, since it is for that purpose alone that man was sent into his life."

Somehow this story put some balance back into me. I can hardly explain it, but having this discussion with my daughters about what this story means to me, at my ripe old age, helped me teach a lesson to them that I really felt was meant for me. And hearing them repeat the lesson to me in their own words was priceless to me. Now to grasp this is a whole new level of learning. Because I never thought I'd be searching for these answers at this point in my life. But I know that what matters is the present time. And whether we are by ourselves or with someone, we must give that person our best of who we are because we never know if we'll get another moment with them or ever meet them again or what their story is. It's not everyday that I wake up excited to teach homeschool, I'll be honest. And today was one of them. But I am so glad I got to be a part of this lesson. This lesson I will continue to learn, the rest of my life.

School begins

2010-08-22T08:08:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow Reese starts school....and as usual, I will miss him. The first day of kindergarten, when I'm sending one of my kids, is always one of the saddest days for me. He is a little apprehensive, but very excited to be with his friends, I know. He'd rather stay in the comfort of home, but knows this is his next journey he will embark on. So off another little Pearson heads to school. And the next Pearson, well, he'll never get to. I am sad for this, too. The kids should all be in school during the days, Chase home with mom, waiting to pick them up every afternoon. But that is not the way it is. The girls are my students this year, teaching me as I teach them. And we get to visit little brother at lunch times, parties and field trips when we can. With another little brother floating above us everywhere we go.

A Cemetery

2010-08-15T13:30:00.000-07:00

I stopped by the cemetery that we are considering moving Chase to today. My friend's son is buried there and I wanted to visit his grave. She lost her son just after his birthday in 2007. He died the 13th of April and Chase was born the 14th of April. I feel a connection there, not only because I knew her son, but also because of the dates being so close to Chase's death and birth date. Her son's birthday is just 6 days before his death date, 23 years later. Chase died just 4 days after his birthday. She has reached out to me and provided comfort to me like only mothers who have lost children can. For that I am grateful.

I saw a grave of an infant, died in 2007. It tears me up to see graves like that with all sorts of little toy trucks and airplanes and helicopters so curiously laid upon it. I wish I could visit Chase's grave and share toys with him in this way, too. Reese has a handful that he has saved just for his little brother. I long to visit the gravesite of my son, to see his name in stone, to see our names right with his, as close as we can get in this human life of ours. I looked around the cemetery and felt it would be a nice place to keep his "box", as we call it. When I asked the kids the other day if they thought it was a good idea to move Chase to this cemetery, they said yes. Actually Reese said, "no mom I want him at my house! Please? Can we have him at our house?" I explained the purpose of this cemetery and I think they all understood. The fact that we may or may not be living in Ruidoso makes our decision to disinter him more complicated. But, again, I looked around the cemetery and it felt "right". Twelve years ago, Patric and I were married about 15 minutes down the highway. Three of our children were born here. Whether or not we live here in 5 years doesn't mean we won't ever be back. We have several reasons to come back here, several concrete reasons, and one of them is his grandparents. I would have the comforting feeling that his grandparents will always be here. They will never move so they will always be close, and I know his G would love that. These thoughts make this decision a little bit easier. If that is ever possible.

I'm writing these thoughts down because I want it be known that when your child dies, cemeteries and grave sites are not something that you had ever thought about before. Choosing a place to keep your child for the rest of time as you know it, is really an impossible choice. There is no way of knowing the right answer. Because, as our funeral home director pointed out to us, where we bury him, is where we will want to be buried essentially, so we may as well purchase 3 lots instead of 1. See? Things you never thought about, right? Who would have known that when you give birth, days later you will be deciding where you want to be buried when you eventually die 50 years later. Cremation was, for us, not something for considering on the spot but choosing which cemetery seemed preposterous to decide.

The first year I was only consumed with having his grave stone ordered and in hand. Then when it came time to lay the stone, we felt the permanence of this deed and wanted to do something about the fact that we wanted Chase closer to us. Once we decided to do this and talked to the funeral director to find out if it can even be done, only to learn that there is even a word for it, then we had to pick where. The cemetery I visited today was our pick, until we started to consider the facts--that our family would not forever reside in Ruidoso. We weren't convinced that we would be raising our family here and did not want to move Chase again when we decided we were leaving. And so here we are. His stone sits in the garage at the funeral home across the street. And his "box" is still 6 hours away.

So these are my thoughts today. I hope to close this chapter soon, though I won't ever know when that will be until it actually happens. I would rather think of my son as I saw him in the hospital isolette and those days when he fought for his life. I would rather remember him as best I can than think of the cemetery where his box will forever remain. But this is life as best as we can understand. I was searching on old (really old) computer CDs the other day and found this saying that gave me chills. I have no idea why it was on my computer years ago. Here it is....

It is a deep mystery, This matter of Life and Death.
That the same person who brought us a thousand joys, can one day leave us shedding a thousand tears.
So suddenly, sometimes we grope blindly for words left unspoken, and for the hug we needed to give, to say goodbye.
And we wonder, how this thread holds us all to life can be so thin and fragile..
Until one day we find the faith and courage to accept, that the living aren’t meant to understand death, only to accept and celebrate life, and to remember that the only real death is forgetting.

Rainbows and sweet moments

2010-08-06T09:13:00.000-07:00

Patric & I went to Albuquerque yesterday, just us two. We had appointments and then we had a nice late lunch before we headed home. It was a really good day. The kids stayed with a dear friend which allowed us to have this day, worry-free and kid-free. I know we need more of this kind of time together but when we do get it, I am so incredibly thankful and feel so blessed to be spending the time together. We had a long drive so we had plenty of time to talk and, being woman, this is important to me. ;) Patric is my best friend and my soul mate and I am so fortunate to have him. We don't always agree on things but that's part of marriage and any relationship for that matter. Being able to discuss our life dreams, plans for our family, our kids and how we are raising them with the man whom I am forever in love with makes me the happiest girl in the world. I never would have gotten this far on this journey without him. We have obviously had a tough life together so far, but I wouldn't have chosen a different one if I could have. I am with who I want to be with doing what I want to do (for the most part!) and we are blessed. On our way home we saw the brightest rainbow I have ever seen and I think

if we would have veered just a little bit off the road, we could have found the pot of gold! When I told Karly about this rainbow, she smiled and said Chase was just so happy for us, that's why it was so pretty. I like to think that, too. He was with us and is with us, every step of the way.

Ready to clean....

2010-08-02T08:25:00.000-07:00

This is not about dusting and cleaning on a normal basis. I don't dust regularly anyway, but it was beyond time to clean up some thigns that had collected in the crib. I'd call it Chase's crib but it is really our crib. All the kids have slept in there and any subsequent children will sleep in there. But for the last year and a half, it has been filled with memories of Chase. From the first week we had gotten home from the hospital until now, I have collected cards, small gifts, photos, letters, sculptures, clothes and anything that reminded me of our little boy. I had been feeling for the past couple months that I was about ready to box up these things. I still want them available to me to look at whenever I want, but I wanted to get a pretty little (medium-sized, actually) box to collect it all in. And the crib was getting pretty dusty anyway--it was time to do something.

So I ordered a pretty box and assembled it and started storing his things. Though it seemed a pretty unemotional task at first, the wave came over me, as I figured it would. In some ways it was comforting to see go through these memories--in a way it's hard to describe. But then the sadness....the deep sadness....came. And the tears.... Those things that will always be there. Not far from the surface. I had saved things like the hospital bracelets which I have in a shadow box. But I forgot about my hospital bracelet. The sight of that brought back a bunch of memories. I had even put back some of the clothes that we had on the day we held him and he died. Those are things that I don't see as "normal" and when I would see them come through the laundry, I'd think about our last day with Chase so I finally pulled them an put them in his crib. I have stuffed animals and wonderful, wonderful cards from my family that have words in them I cherish very deeply. Words that bring tears, but words that mean so much to me that it is hard to explain in a human capacity. I have little airplanes and nerf bullets that Reese gave to his brother that I put in this box. I have Reese's little santa hat that Chase was going to wear last Christmas. I have Chase's first birthday cards and memories and my mother's day cards from Patric and the kids the month after he died. I probably have hundreds of photos in there, several duplicates, but of course none of them I could throw away, so they are all there. And then all the legal documents from the funeral home are in another matching box, just smaller. The baby book from the funeral home with all the signatures of those who attended the funeral, which still surprises me to read through sometimes. I have my blog book in there, too, which is sacred to me. It is what helped me most through this loss....writing down my feelings and the comments from those who cared enough to tell me I wasn't alone on this journey.

I still have plenty photos, some candles, statues and things on the wall to see....my blanket I sleep with every night... And we talk and pray about Chase every day. But for now, the crib is empty. We hope to fill it again some day. Maybe we will move first and I won't put the crib back up until we need it. Maybe it will sit here until I am ready to take it down. Maybe....

My memories are in my heart. They are in my head and in my soul. And if I need something tangible, I can go to the boxes and touch him. I know I have a lot of "stuff" but I couldn't get rid of any of it. It's as close as I want it to be. Without having him here.....it's as close as I want for now.

I am curious, for those that are a year or more out from their loss, what have you done with your memories? I would love to hear your stories.

Summer Days...

2010-08-01T11:21:00.000-07:00

We had a great week camping at the lake with my family. The kids had a great time, I had constant "sister time" and the guys got to fish and jet ski and nap. True vacation! We explored Colorado a little more and found some really neat things. I love the farm houses where you can go pick your own vegetables. And I LOVE the fresh sweet corn. Lots of stuff to do and lots of places to go. And always something new to find.

I enjoyed the time away, but I miss Chase badly when we are on those kinds of trips. I absolutely adore my little nephew. He is about 8 weeks now and so fun. I changed his diaper and thought to myself how I would so love to do have done this for Chase...or one day for our own baby. I know--I thought I was so done with diapers! I imagined Chase running around after the kids and chasing Kate. It's always going to be hard....and so is life. Even though there is so much to enjoy....this is so much to yearn for, too.

It's nice to be home. We have lots to do...unpacking for one. Then school for another. Then work. Then hopefully a huge garage sale!

I miss you, little man. Thinking of you always. Love, mommy

Lurking reminders

2010-07-12T14:33:00.000-07:00

I dropped off clothes today at the cleaners--I don't do this very often. However today, the clerk was happy to see me. ??? I don't even know you. When I gave him my name, he said he had something for me to pick up and did not have a current phone number for me. He said that I had a jacket of Patric's that had been there since May 2009.

My look of bewilderment was immediately replaced with a quick reminder of the emptiness in my heart. All I could think was, "of course, our world had come crashing down on us in April and and it was all very fresh then." It didn't surprise me one bit that we had forgotten about that jacket.

It's these kinds of reminders that I always wonder if there are still more out there. What else did we lose when we lost a piece of our hearts?

Enough....

2010-07-06T16:23:00.000-07:00

I am learning as I get older that life happens....there is nothing you can do about it. You can't slow it down, you can't stop it, you just roll with the punches and deal with it. And hopefully enjoy it, too.

As if Karly's accident wasn't enough, which has healed beautifully btw, I rear-ended someone last week in my SUV. We were all fine, no one was hurt, but I did enough damage to the car that I'm dealing with insurance agents, rental car companies and body shop repair. We are also moving along on the law suit finally so there's enough emotional stress involved with that to take it's toll. And as the summer keeps flying by, I am getting trying to make schooling decisions so I'll have enough time to order books if I need to.

And in the middle of all this, I miss Chase badly.

So those are the top stressors in my life right now. There are more, I just don't feel like writing about all my sob stories right now. But since I have realized I can't control what life deals me, I am rolling with the punches. They are not all fun and sometimes it is exhausting. But I won't give up. I'll get back on my feet and get through it. Because time keeps traveling and the only thing worse than getting through tough times is dwelling in how much time has been lost. When I look at the last 4 years of my life, I am floored at how things have changed. And the majority of my changes have been since Chase died. I had my life mapped out quite differently than the way things happened, but unfortunately things that I have no control over dictate my journey. It doesn't mean I still can't win the race, just that I will have to take a detour to get there. And the detour--the detour is nothing I would trade. Because sometimes it's the detour itself that teaches us the most about who we are and what we are capable of.

Note: Though I am vague in the metaphor, I am literally talking about races. I have enjoyed running the last 10 years of my life and had taken "time out" to have our last baby and anticipated a quick return to my hobby. But when our last baby was Chase, and he was taken from us, my goals were shifted a bit. I miss my training but am also dedicated to my family and our needs. TTC does not lend itself well to the kind of training I would really like to do. But I also know that I am still fully capable of the physical demands and that I will get back to where I want to be....all in good time.

Let this be done...

2010-06-29T12:11:00.000-07:00

I am ready for this trauma of Karly's accident to be over with. We went back to the dr. on Friday because I was worried about the oozing from her wound. The doc put Karly on some very high dose antibiotics and she has been so bravely drinking the worst smelling medicine I have ever seen. Sunday she was not feeling well and though I was pretty sure it was the antibiotics making her sick, I was paranoid about her wound not being well so after she registered a fever of 102+ at home, I decided we would go back to the ER to have it checked out.

The good news was they liked the wound and said it looked great so they took the stitches out. The bad news was Karly had what looked to be strep. For the love. What else does this kid need to damper her summer? We've been nursing that with double-dose ibu/pain reliever meds when she needs it. Ugh.

Then, like clockwork, Reese comes to me this morning with, "my throat hurts, I don't feel well. I'm going to lay down." Of course. Why would I think no one else would get this?

I'm tired of worrying. When Karly fell and had such a bad cut, I was scared. I felt my kids' mortality so acutely. Once again. Every time they get sick, I have "the worst" looming in the back of my mind because I know what it is like to lose a child. I wish I didn't, but I do, so those thoughts seem to surface whenever someone is ailing. But Karly fell and it happened so quick and it looked so awful and I couldn't believe we were dealing with what we had at hand. And I've been so worried about her arm and it healing that to have another, unrelated infection on top of it....I just don't need this! When Karly got sick I just didn't know what to do. And I was tired of not knowing what to do. I know what that feels like and then losing Chase--I didn't want to feel that way again. I finally broke down that morning with an overload of emotions feeling like a mother who can't take care of her own children. Like a failure. Of the worst kind. I was just tired, mostly, because of lack of sleep, but the burden of worry was making me more fatigued.

And now that Karly is almost halfway through her antibiotics, has her stitches out, and seemingly getting better, I feel another low blow knowing that Reese is coming down with her throat infection now and we are starting to battle this. Same bug, different kid.

I hate it when my kids are sick. Everybody does. Just those of us who know loss, seem to hate it a little bit more, almost on a level of paranoia.

Add this to my list of "things people say"

2010-06-24T17:06:00.000-07:00

I wrote about Karly's fall last weekend and her bravery and courage for enduring the events that evening. I wrote about how we talked about Chase and how he helped us through the ER visit and was there watching over us, taking care of us.

I went to the church where she fell the next day, with Karly, to tell them what happened and the (many) dangers of the sidewalk where it happened. I was emotional and upset when it happened and the whole night through. But by this time, I was not so angry anymore but merely needed to have this horrific obstacle removed from the sidewalk. In my opinion, it was a hazard not only to the children but also the elderly, and for that matter anyone who could vouch for having tripped on a terrifically uneven sidewalk. What happened to Karly happened, but I did not want it to happen again to anyone in my family or anyone at all.

The person we spoke to at church, however, was not so impressive. He seemed genuinely relieved that Karly was okay, but made comments implying that children should not be running in this area. Nevermind that ridiculous thought--this sidewalk is located between the day care playground and the parking for the parents who pick up their children from the day care. He told Karly directly, in front of me and 2 other adults, that if she were attending church and would pray more often, this wouldn't have happened.

{Gasp.}

He did say this as a joke, I am aware, but it was an uncomfortable laughter because it was a horrible joke. I wondered if he knew he said this to a little girl who not only has more compassion than he does in his little finger but who lost her baby brother a year ago--a sweet boy who had to fight harder than this man will ever know for his fragile little life and lost that fight despite very specific prayers from thousands of people all over the world.

There were no words for this man. Just a mission to remove a hazard....and the mission was accomplished.

This day

2010-06-20T22:36:00.000-07:00

What a day. And I can't remember a bit of it before 8pm. I had taken the kids to help with Patric's youth group at the church and we had a great time. We got back to the church to drop off some kids and mine wanted to run across to the road to the playground. We were there for no more than 5 minutes. I saw the kids running around the church on the sidewalk. And I saw Karly crash and burn, not an unusual site for her. She immediately got up and all three kids ran toward me and as they got nearer, they were only about 30 yards away to begin with, I could tell Karly was crying. Then it's all just a rush....They were all talking. Apparently she fell on some rocks and landed on the metal border that goes around the flower beds. Karly showed me her arm and where I expected to see a minor scrap was a laceration about 2 cm wide, 8 cm long and down to her....well, I saw raw muscle I know that much. I didn't think at all I just got the kids in teh car, told the adults were were going to the ER and raced about 200 yards down the street to the hospital. It looked awful. I have never seen a wound like that before. And it was on my kid.

I was back and forth between hysterically crying and calmly talking to the kids telling them everything was going to be alright. Emma took care of Reese like a champ and waited with him in the waiting room while KJ and I went into triage. To make a long story a little bit shorter, she ended up getting 15 stitches and Patric made it to the hospital from work, about 30 miles away, before the stitching started. After the numbing shots, which were the worst part, but we were there together. And Chase was there, too. I could feel it. Karly and I talked about him the whole time. She was as scared as I've ever seen her. She didn't want stitches at all but obviously this cut was leaving her no choice. She kept telling me she couldn't do this. She couldn't believe this was happening and she couldn't do this and she wanted to leave.

But she did it. With amazing strength and bravery. She did it because she is a tough little girl who has been through far worse than most kids her age. She did it because she knew her baby brother was there helping her through it. I felt him there, too. She did it because we were there to hold her hand through it and suffer through the pain until she was numb and couldn't feel anything. And when you face what life throws you, this is what you must do. She knows this. She can do anything. Because when we can't be there to hold her hand, Chase always will be and he has given her more strength than she realizes. He has for all of us.

This day I feel him. I am so blessed he is here to help us when we can't physically see or hear him. He gives us strength we never knew we had. I love you Chase.

A new day

2010-06-02T14:22:00.000-07:00

I have been visiting family a lot lately and having a much needed break from life in my small town. My little sis had her second baby and I got to hold him at just 8 days old. What a blessing. I had imagined many things anticipating this event and it was nothing I thought it would be. I feared it would be emotional, heartwrenching, and painful for me, probably because of my encounter with Faith. But it wasn't. Somehow Faith prepared me for this. I was afraid I would only be able to see this new baby and feel what wasn't there. But I didn't. I was anxious for fear of loving this baby in a way that I wasn't supposed to or that was unhealthy. It wasn't that way at all.

I had the priveledge of holding my brand new baby nephew in my arms and seeing him for who he is....a piece of my baby sister and the newest member of her precious and growing family. I got to see her grow as a mom and see her daughter change into a big sister. I got to talk to her about our pregnancies and her trials as a new mother of 2. I spent priceless time with her and her children and got to share that with my kids. I never felt the sadness that I feared I would. I thought of my sweet Chase often, but I did not see him when I held my new nephew. I felt Chase's presence and his protective shield around me, but I did not feel sorrow for myself or my family. I watched my kids hold their new baby cousin and saw their smiles and shared their joy. My longing for my baby boy is something that will never fade away for me. But it doesn't take away from the many blessings that I see before me every day. My friend Carol put it this way: "...the sadness that we carry, the weight of that stone on my back, doesn't subtract from the happiness that I have now."

The hardest part about being around family is when everyone is together...from all the families. That is when I miss my little boy most and that is the hardest thing for people to understand. This hole will never be filled.....but we live with it and enjoy each day for what it brings.

More than what I was looking for

2010-05-10T13:49:00.000-07:00

When I married Patric almost 12 years ago, I didn't just marry him, I married his family. A family who had no kids around, had only boys, and was living in the past (his state high school championship in '85 was relived in every conversation.). This was completely opposite of my family--ok, except for the high school glory days part. I only had sisters and my 2 youngest sisters were still in school and my older sister already had a baby. So we were breaking molds left and right in his family almost as soon as the ring was on my finger.

My mother-in-law, having reared two boys, and both of them having waited to start their own families, was very protective of her baby. I often felt like I was not good enough for their son, but this was mostly my insecurities (I promise!). I was extremely smitten with Patric and blissfully in love, but terribly insecure so I did not deal well with his family conversations which included the names of ex-girlfriends.

This all changed when we had little Emma Jeanne. Our firstborn, who took both her grandmothers' names and won everyone's hearts. Patric's mom had waited painfully long for a grandchild and to have a little girl in the family was icing on the cake. She hopped on a plane and visited us (not easy for someone scared of heights) just a couple weeks after Emma was born and spent several days with us. It was my first time spending real quality time with my mother-in-law and it changed our relationship forever. Shortly after returning home, she wrote us letters which I still have and cherish to this day. I was looking for these letters recently because Emma turned 10 and I intended to commemorate our mother/daughter-in-law relationship by sharing the words she had written to me so many years before.

I found the letters today and never expected to find what I did. The letter literally took my breath away when I read it this time. I had read it several times over the years, but this time it meant something different. I showed Patric and neither of us remembered the names we had chosen for the baby in the boy/girl scenario. I just remembered she was either Emma or Madison and it was really a toss up. I had completely forgotten about the boys' names.

It brought tears to my eyes to read this. Sobs, actually. But it made me feel so incredibly warm inside, too. That Emma could have been our little Chase and how much joy she has brought us....and then how much joy Chase has brought us. My MIL also wrote a letter to Emma at that time and in this letter, my MIL tells Emma:

"You do know, however, at this early age, the "feeling" of love as you are touched and talked to by people who love you more than anything else in this world! You've brought so much happiness already just by coming into this big ole' world!"

This warmed my heart, too. Because I knew that Chase, too, could feel just how much we loved him when he was born. Babies really do just know. He knew so much love while we were in the hospital...by all of us...near and far.

It is amazing, this life of ours. How things change, but really stay the same. I can look at not only Reese and see this little baby boy of ours, but now I can look at Emma, and think so many of the same things. And what is funny is that we really thought just as Karly & Reese look so much alike, that Emma & Chase were bound to as well. You are with us, little man, in so many different shapes and sizes. You are all around us. All the time.

A tough week...

2010-05-06T07:53:00.000-07:00

It started out with a dream I had Monday night. I dreamt I had my confrontation with my Dr. and it was horrible. It was painful, I was sobbing and it was a very very unsettling dream. I woke up and couldn't fall back asleep. I checked on all the kids, was worried about them for some reason. It was just an awful night.

Tuesday was a sad day. I don't know why really. Why this day in particular. I was just sad, maybe because of my rough night's sleep. I was just sad that Chase is not here with me doing all this stuff I do every day. I am making a video of Karly of old pictures and home movies--it's going to go in her "time capsule" at school--and the pictures of babies make me miss him so much. It's like seeing exactly what you are missing out on. And I miss baby Karly, too. She's all grown up and it's incredible how fast that happens.

Patric was planning on taking the kids to a youth meeting/praise singing/speaker night. I had no intention of going and was looking forward to getting some things done on the computer and around the house while they were all gone. At the last minute he asked me if I would go with him and pretty much wouldn't let me say no. I got ready and hoped the evening would go fast...for a few reasons.

After we ate, they started the band off with a prayer and the woman leading it said, among other things, "tonight will change someone's life here" and those words echoed in my head. I don't remember anything else she said and wondered how that could happen, mostly thinking about the adolescents around me but also thinking if that was possible for me.

The girls loved the music but Reese not so much so I went outside with him. We found his football in the car so he was suddenly a happy boy getting to run around outside and play. We were not alone...a young mother was out on the deck with her baby girl. I am a pretty good guess at babies ages, go figure, and expected her to be around one. Indeed, she turned one last Wednesday, her mom said. That would be 2 days after Chase's due date. I watched her wiggle in her mama's arms and my eyes started getting wet. I realized she was wiggling around so she could watch Reese and it made me smile and get sadder all at the same time. I asked her name and it was Faith. Hmm. Mom was just as cute as Faith was. I told her about the kids and wanted to tell her about Chase....but I didn't want to tell her about him because I didn't want to scare her. She is young and Faith is her first, I didn't want her to know about what can happen.

But then I asked if I could hold Faith. And I did. I was smiling through tears that wouldn't stop. It was so nice to hold her, she was as cute as a button. And I told her mom that Reese has a little angel brother the same age as Faith and I was sorry but couldn't keep my tears in this time. Having a one-year-old on my hip felt so natural. It felt like it was supposed to feel, but it didn't make me feel better about anything. It didn't make it easier, it didn't make any pain go away, it didn't make me think about Chase any less. It just felt right. I was so nervous about asking to hold the baby that I barely got a chance to enjoy it. I didn't know how I would act in this situation, though I had thought about it many times. I gave her back after just a couple minutes and I can hardly explain how I felt ... other than to say it felt like something was lifted from me. I felt clear of mind, fresh, new, okay with a lot of things--though I'm not sure of exactly what. I want Chase so badly, I will never feel differently about that. But I love babies, too. And it's okay to love babies even though Chase is not here. I don't feel guilty about that. I miss him, but I don't feel guilty and maybe I was afraid I would.

So I am thankful for the three kids I have in my arms. I am thankful for the one angel baby I have. And I am thankful that Faith's mom didn't think I was crazy for crying as I held her precious 1-year-old. I feel Chase around me all the time. I know he was there with me helping me through that moment and will be there for so many more.

Disolutions

2010-04-30T21:05:00.000-07:00

It's hard to believe we are a year out...not only of our tragedy....but moreso from Chase's birthday. He would be walking around by now.... following everybody all over the place....trying to get in on the action. Today I could nearly see him. The kids were all in the kitchen after school. At least 2 of them were talking to me at once. And for some reason, I could see Chase right there in the middle of them...or off to the side maybe. But definitely in the mix. And it never seems like a lot of kids now. Before we had Chase, I would have thought, "wow, 4 kids, that's alot". Not now. There is such a hole where he should be.

I was stricken with guilt today. I realized that he is not at the forefront of my mind when I'm running around busy in the day-to-day hustle. It's not like the other 3.... I don't feel guilty when I am busy with things and don't think about them all the time. Some days not until it's time to pick them up. THey are never far from my thoughts, as is Chase, but I don't feel guilty about it. Because I can see them and give them a squeeze and a kiss and tell them I love them. I can't do that with Chase. I talk to him. I told him I was sorry today for not thinking about him and promised him I would never forget him and that I missed him so terribly much. But it didn't make the guilt go away. I want him here so bad I can't stand it. Sometimes I feel like I don't know what to do anymore than I did the day he died. I do my best to steer clear of little ones....not because I want to....but because I don't know if I should or not. I'm afraid of what feelings would surface. Feelings I want only for Chase and am determined to save for him still.

How I wish you were here sweet boy. How I wish you could watch your big brother play his first season of Tball....and go fishing with daddy....and be read to by Emma...and fussed over by Karly. How I wish I could just hold you in my arms....
Loving you always,

Visiting Chase's Grave

2010-04-18T20:57:00.000-07:00

We visited Chase's grave this week. It was a six hour drive returning to a place that would remind us so acutely of a time of deep pain and anguish. The weather was grey and gloomy the entire trip and even if we wanted to, we would not be able to set the monument for Chase. The sancrete would never have dried with the constant drizzle. We paid our respects regardless and arranged and re-arranged the flowers we had brought for him, from us and both his grandmas. As if we were "fixing" them for him, like a parent always feels we must do. Something to busy our hands, I guess. The rain was persistent, but not obtrusive. We were able to have a good visit, if that is possible. For a moment, maybe two minutes, while Patric and I were alone at his grave and the kids were in the car, the sun poked through the clouds. It was so magical how this happened. I wish I would have pointed my camera up and just snapped a shot, in hopes that I might have deciphered something later that I couldn't comprehend in that moment. If ever I have felt it, though, it was Chase speaking to us. Looking down on us tell us he was okay.

Patric and I have had several deep conversations lately about him and where we each think he is or what he is or just what we think period. And in those conversations I have been comforted in a way only my soulmate could comfort me. It turns out that we have both been feeling Chase's presence in and around us. There have been specific moments and specific feelings, however indescribable they are, that we have communicated to each other and felt the same thing.

We are not on the same path in our journey as we were in the beginning. Patric is seeking different things that I am right now. He is comforted in different ways than I am. We feel very much the same on a lot of things, and we are both searching, but searching for different answers and different explanations. I had received several texts and emails and cards and even some packages in the mail leading up to and on Chase's birthday. My sisters, in particular, sent me some very, very touching gifts that mean so very much to me and remind me how exactly my little boy touched their lives as well. Friends of ours from all over the country sent texts, to my phone, letting us know that we were in their thoughts and offering any help that me might need to get through this last week. It wasn't until we were in bed Wednesday night laying, waiting, to fall asleep, that I realized that Patric hadn't personally received any of these things that I had. No texts, no emails, no phone calls, no package. Nothing. Nothing specifically directed to him. I know he didn't expect this, he's really not the type to even want something on an occasion like this. It is comforting to him to see that I have family and friends in my life that care enough to do this for me. But as his wife, I want to just cover him up with love from me and the kids...in hopes that he feels just as loved as we do. I know men grieve differently and have different needs in grief but it doesn't stop me from wanting to protect his feelings with some sort of force field of love from us to try to equal that which I feel. The truth is I know he has more of that from us than he ever bargained for and that's really all he will ever need. But in a time of such pain and suffering I want to make it better for him when I can't.

Returning to Chase's grave this week stirred up a lot of emotions I hadn't felt for a long time. The pain felt raw and the wound felt very fresh. It did for all of us, you could see it, hear it, and feel it from the girls as they cried from their bellies, quivering from their sobs, missing their baby brother so dearly. My anger came back. I became very mad again, like it had all just happened, recalling in my head how the events throughout those days transpired, wishing things had been done differently. So desperately wishing I had done something when I knew I should.

But this visit was about Chase and thinking about him. And I have been working on/thinking about this a lot lately....my vision of my sweet baby boy. God how I miss you sweet Chase. I can't begin to tell you how much. But I want you to have fun up there...and enjoy this birthday and all those to come...and one day, we will all be together again. I love you.

Happy 1st Birthday, Chase

2010-04-14T20:43:00.000-07:00

Here are some pictures from our celebration of this very special day. A very sad day, a little bit of happiness, but an immeasurable amount of love.

Balloons for Chase

Sending them up

The wild horses, a rare site....with a baby.

Thank you all for the emails, comments, cards, gifts, thoughts and prayers. We felt them all and love that our little man was in the hearts and minds of so many, today especially. The worst feeling, I now know, about losing someone, is that they will be forgotten. And on this day, we felt so much love in remembrance for Chase. I know he felt it, too. Thank you.

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Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star

2010-04-14T07:30:00.000-07:00

"....do you know how loved you are?"

Some of Chase's birthday wishes. Wishing you a happy #1 birthday up in heaven little man. We miss you more than words can say and will be celebrating you all day. I love you baby boy.

EJ made you this card and we all signed it. We'll be sending it to you.

Your presents from Aunt Meg & Aunt Lyn, who love and miss you very much, too.

Here we are

2010-04-13T13:25:00.000-07:00

I have been busy. Busy with a lot of things that I need to do....and don't need to do. Busying my time, maybe. Spring is here, the hummingbirds singing, the flowers blooming, we have started T-ball and Allie is white again after the rain showers we had yesterday!

But still, there is a cloud. It seems to be looming. It has been, for me, the last 6 weeks. I'm not sure why. I'm not sure what it is even. I am confused by the calmness that I have been enveloped in. A sort of calm before the storm, I anticipate.

I have not had much emotion...but it is coming. Little by little. I have felt protected in some ways these last weeks. A sort of peacefulness that I my little one has laid over me. I have felt this way, yet I can't really explain it.

This is a big reason I haven't posted lately. I couldn't really find the words to describe my mood, my behaviors, my feelings, my thoughts. It's complicated, yet simple. Reese has started T-ball and the whole family has had a blast watching him get his time to shine finally. And I can't help but think what his little brother would be doing the whole time, too. It hurts to let those thoughts enter my mind, but makes me smile, too. And most of the time, whatever it is we are doing, I feel him there with us. He is in my peripherals everywhere we go. Like I can't focus on him, but I see him out of the corner of my eye. He's there. I know it. I just can't see him or touch him. But he's with us. Always.

Thank you to the many many people who love us and are sending us their thoughts and prayers this week. It's sad to see you hurt for us. I wish it wasn't so. But we have received gifts and blessings from those where were a part of Chase's life and those who weren't...and those on this journey with us. There is comfort in this tragedy. Somehow, we will heal from this. As tomorrow approaches and the rest of this week, we love each other with every breath we take. We feel Chase in our hearts and see him in our minds with everything we do. He will always be with us.

Moving On

2010-03-30T19:06:00.000-07:00

That post title does not mean I am moving on after Chase. I am stuck in time with him. That one thing is motionless, while everything else around it keeps moving, he is frozen in time and I miss him every day with every bone in my body. I should be a whole year into his life soon...watching him learn to walk and listening to his first words and watching his big sisters and big brother entertain him and care for him. I never stop thinking about those things. And then I look at his picture and I am taken back. To those 4 days of excitement, fear, hope, sadness and confusion and it feels as though time has stood still.

I don't see this changing, though eventually, I'm told, it will. But what has moved on is life as we know it. I have moved on with life. I laugh with my children, with my husband. I learn things about myself. I love like there is no tomorrow. I feel things ever so acutely. I empathize with people, things, situations. I am sometimes amazed at how I am able to move past things that, before Chase died, I would have dwelled on, fretted about, stewed over....for weeks. I don't do that anymore. My adult relationships have changed. That's because my needs have changed. Things that I say, feel or do are not justified always. I can't explain "why" when it comes to my feelings. When they get hurt, I make sure it won't happen again. And if that means moving on and not looking back, then that is what I do. I protect myself much better than I ever did before. Or maybe I have a little extra help from up above, I don't know. I don't need anyone to understand me. There is no reason for that because there is no way they ever will. And as a result, I have no desire to explain myself. I go on because I have to. This, I have learned.

I miss my sweet boy. Every moment of every day, I miss him.

Not in the mood

2010-03-20T19:23:00.000-07:00

We took the kids to Albuquerque this weekend to watch Walking with Dinosaurs. We went to the Children's Museum and thought we might catch the zoo, too, but the weather had other plans for us. Instead, before heading home we stopped at the mall to take care of some exchanges we needed to make and one of them was in GapKids.

I didn't need to go in BabyGap, we were strictly in the kids' side but the checkout counter is the divider between the two stores. There were so many cute things that kept catching my eye and I always wonder what I would be stealing from the budget to buy Chase from these kinds of stores. I wanted to be sad that I didn't shop in babyGap anymore because my kids are too big for it. I wanted to be sad that I didn't shop there because Reese refuses to "dress up" in jeans and anything with buttons. But I don't get that privilege. I hate that I don't shop in that store because I can't bear the site of the things I should be showing off my baby boy in. I hate that I don't have a reason to shop there because my son is gone. Standing in that store, looking at those things is torture to me. And what is worse, I did this to myself, I snatched a super soft, tiny stuffed blue elephant at the counter as the clerk was checking me out and asked her if I could buy that, too. As luck would have it, it had no price tag. Of course she couldn't look on the other tags of the same brand of animals to see that it was $5.50. She had to look at every book behind the counter to find the right "number" for it. And when she couldn't find it, she had to call her manager to look through the same books only then to go to the "back" to see if they had any more back there with the tag on it. We stood there for probably 20 minutes waiting but I had to have this elephant. I wasn't exactly sure why. I used to always buy these little stuffed animals from Gap when the kids were babies. They were just the right size for them to hold as babies and for some reason lovely to chew/suck on. Gross, I know, but this elephant reminded me of that. It reminded me of my babies that have grown up. It also reminded me of my baby that would never grow up. I had to have it and standing there waiting for the stupid clerk to find the right number was like twisting the knife that has been stuck in my heart for 11 months and a day now. Especially when she looked at Karly and asked who it was for. I guess she didn't hear her when Karly asked me if it was for Chase and if we were going to send it up to him in heaven on a balloon. And then, as the timing was impeccable, the "funeral home guy" calls to tell me the proof for the monument is in. Lovely. While I'm busy wasting time with a @*$&# clerk buying a stupid $5 toy for my son whose headstone is waiting for my approval to be carved. Tears welled up in my eyes but I couldn't leave without my baby's soft toy.

Just weeks away from Chase's birthday. I can't even explain how sad this is. That time is going so fast and that our littlest Pearson is not here to share it with us.

Lost in Time

2010-03-11T20:24:00.000-08:00

I don't know how I'm doing lately. I feel weird. I have felt different the past week or two and I don't know why. I can't say that I feel good, but I do feel that this roller coaster ride is about to dip. Soon. I haven't shed many tears lately. That is odd. I feel like they are close, but they are not falling right now. I don't feel any peace. I don't feel normal. As usual, I feel like the facade I am displaying is very believable. But it's completely fake. I don't know if I feel numb. I don't think about Chase any less. I think of him all day long, when I fall asleep at night, when I wake up in the morning and a thousand times in between. I still miss him...but some days it feels so unreal. Like, did it really happen? It feels like yesterday, but yet so long ago. It's so hard to explain.

I don't know why I feel this way. It is unsettling. I doubt so many things about myself....am I good mother? A good wife? A good homemaker? A good ANYthing? I can take compliments, but I don't believe them. Not at all. I have no confidence in me right now, or who I am. I don't even know that person. Sometimes it feels like the old me almost, but I know that person died with Chase, so it can't be. I'm confused. I'm lost..... Hoping the dip in this ride comes and goes quickly....just waiting.

Judging Grief

2010-03-08T17:21:00.001-08:00

What I am about to say is not intended to touch everyone. It is not going to be understood by most. And by all means, I am not trying to change or fix anyone. I am purely and genuinely going to vent.

I don't understand the way people react to someone's grief. I have read about, been told it would happen and seen people react to me in very peculiar ways. Specifically, people have left my side and no longer fill the role of a friend.

I know someone who's son, years ago, was killed just days before his college graduation. My heart went out to her. She was not a close friend, but a friend indeed and I didn't know what to do for her. She was surrounded by so many who loved her and had so much support, or so it looked from the outside. I felt so bad for her and wanted badly to reach out to her. I had been told that a couple months after a tragedy is when people generally find themselves alone as their family goes back home and everyone goes on with their lives. So I wrote in my day planner on the day 2 months from her tragedy to send her a card and I did so. I saw her a few months later and asked her how she was doing and was surprised how much she shared with me. At the time, I did not know how to handle her grief. Now I do. Now I know and understand how much she wanted to talk about her son to me, a distant friend. But one thing I didn't do, was judge her.

Before Chase died, I could have never imagined the pain she went through and how it would guide her every day. How that pain would override every thought, every emotion, every feeling, every thing she did in her life. So I never judged her actions, her choices, her weight loss, her weight gain, her change in appearance, her behavior. After the loss she had endured, any of those things were destined to be affected or change and change again and my heart continued to ache for her. This was the outsider's point of view of grief that I had.

Now, having lost my own child, and having endured the pain of this and learning to live with it every day of my life, I don't understand why I am judged. "Chase died and then she just quit talking to me." In my head, I can just hear these comments. "She got mad at me because I'm still friends with her doctor's friend's sister's husband's cousin's neighbor's uncle. How insane is that? Like they had anything to do with it."

I can't explain my feelings. I can't tell you why I feel the way I do or why I do the things I do or why I say some of the things I say. I'm hurting. Inside. Always. And the anger side of grief will sometimes guide me to do things that I could not ever expect you to understand. Unless your child had died, too. Think of it this way, and then try to justify the way you feel. Try to explain it to someone why you can't stand to be around someone who is 6 degrees of separation away from the person who is responsible for your son's death. Sounds crazy, I know.

The "funeral home guy" told me that his very close friends lost a teenage son and because of the whole funeral and burial thing, his grieving friends quit talking to he and his wife. He acknowledged that they probably equated the death of their son to them but he didn't know why they quit talking to them--they had been such close friends. My reaction to that was, "Don't judge them". No, you didn't cause the death of their son, but you remind them so vividly of those particular moments following their tragedy that I don't blame them. I don't know why we act this way, but I completely understand. It's unfortunate and, sadly, I can totally relate. I, personally, wanted to jump in a hole--to hide from everyone, everything. All the while feeling like I was living in a glass house. Maybe it was my own insecurities, my shattered faith, my pain, but I didn't want to see anyone I knew....except for my closest friends.

To date, however, nearly all of those closest friends are gone. Most have left my side. Some made choices. Choices I could not accept. For reasons I cannot explain. So I remain misunderstood, misjudged. As if it matters. Because I am much better off than I was, all things considered. There are new friends in place. Some closer old friends. And I am starting over, the new me. I'm not going to say improved, but I will call myself real. I see things with people so much more clearly than I ever had. My family, though the most important thing in my life before Chase died, is the center of my universe. And I love them with every breath I take.

Dry Eyes

2010-03-06T09:25:00.000-08:00

I had gone probably 4 or 5 days without shedding a tear and it was not because Chase was on my mind any less. And it wasn't like tears were not appropriate in the kind of week I had. But despite their being just below the surface, even welling up in my eyes, I was unable to cry...to let go and let the tears fall. It was really odd to me but I think I was dealing with things that I was simply too exhausted to cry about this week. We picked out our stone for Chase, but it was I who met with the funeral home guy (what's his job title?). He came over twice and, being a small town, he is very easy to talk to. In fact, I think in this town, in his line of work, he makes it a point to "talk" to his customers if that is something they so desire. There are times when I do think I need to talk to someone, but it's so hit or miss when I want this that it has never been worth my while to check into it. But it did help, a little bit, to talk to this man and share with him some of the difficulties I was having with my grief. It's also about "sharing my story" in this small town so that people know what happened, what happened to me and what precisely we are dealing with besides the loss of our child. But I never cried. I got cold and shivered like I always do when I talk about it, but I had no tears to share with this man.

I had some deep conversations with Emma about Chase this week. The kids go to a counselor and I talked to her about how that was going and we decided that it was time to end this. She feels much more comfortable talking to us about Chase than the counselor because the counselor doesn't know what she's going through. I understand. I feel her pain. I see her pain. I hurt because she hurts. But I shed no tears.

Patric has been working extremely hard and been away from us alot for the last week. All I want is to be alone with him. I want to be able to talk without distraction and since I stay home and our business is out of the home in his opinion, we have all the time in the world any couple would want together. But he is my everything. Besides the kids, who are my best buddies in the world, he is who I confide in, socialize with, share ideas with, dream with, grieve with and love with. And when we are not on the same page, things just don't feel right. I raise all these questions in my head and my imagination runs wild. Out of hand, as he would say. I had just ensured "the funeral home guy" that we were cemented to each other...stronger than we ever have been together. And then we have an argument and suddenly I don't know what page he is on, what chapter he is in or if he's even reading the same book. Fortunately, though, we are cemented. We are united. And we can talk (eventually). And then just like that, we're back on the same page again. We're on the same team. The one that has had some rough games, but the one that wins. Somehow. Because we have what it takes. And for that I am thankful. I need him to get through this. I need him to keep living this life we live with all the pain and sadness and the love and happiness, that is still to be had. I have changed, just as he has, and I no longer have the outlets I used to have to share my pain. It only makes sense that when you change, you have to start over with everything else, too. The five of us are different. And only we know who we are now. My adult relationships have changed....I have begun starting over that aspect of my life, as well. What I seek from adults is far less than what I used to. I have started new relationships, to replace the old. Or just left emptiness where there used to be something I needed. What I need is in front of me, in my reach. We lean on each other and we get through those hard days. And then we cry together, when the tears start falling again.

Happy 2nd Birthday Nate!

2010-03-05T12:16:00.001-08:00

You are loved and missed by many little man. Sending hugs to you and your precious family here on earth.

I wish we hadn't met this way, Trisha, but you are a dear sweet friend to me. Here for you now and always.

I learned something new today

2010-03-01T12:58:00.000-08:00

...about my youngest son. I was making these foot molds out of his foot imprint (trying to negate the negative....wish I could do that with life) because that's all I have. After working for a good 20 minutes with the molding compound, I was able to make 2 little feet out of it without too much difficulty. I have no knowledge of clay or this kind of stuff so I was kind of winging it. So I baked the molds for a little while and then set them to cool on the counter. A little while later I picked them up to see how well they dried and that's when I noticed it.

I have these deformed pinky toes on both my feet. It's something my lovely mother passed down to me and her lovely mother passed down to her. I have been self-concsious of these pinky toes of mine my entire life. So much so, I guess, that with each baby I birthed, this was one of the first things I did after counting all fingers and toes...I examined their pinky toes to make sure they didn't get mine!

I never did that with Chase. Too many things on my mind. Nevermind the state of shock I was in his entire life with us. But I never looked at his piggies and wondered if he got "mine". We took off his socks and rubbed his feet but I was pretty much busy worrying about other things than his vanity for his own pinky toes when he grew older.

Today, when I examined the mold I made of his left foot imprint, I noticed almost too clearly, that it looks like he had my pinky toe on his left foot. As far as I can tell anyway. I wished I would have taken more photos of him before the blood products and medications had changed him. I wished I had pictures of every little crease and dimple on him I wish I knew him as well as I do my other children. But when you only have 3 days to love and touch and talk and sing to him, you don't really think about those kinds of things. You don't think to capture every moment and photograph every ounce of his tiny little body so that you will forever have that tucked away in your keepsake boxes. Because you are busy thinking about when you will get to bring him home. You are busy worrying about his kidneys and his liver and his heart and his brain to even get to appreciate the fact that he actually has your toes.

I miss you little man. You can thank me for your little piggies when I get up there but I am so happy you have a part of me with you. And since they remind me of you, I will love my ugly toes forever and ever.

xoxo

The Courage of this 2nd grader

2010-02-25T10:10:00.000-08:00

Can't Let Go....the ugly side of grief

2010-02-24T12:45:00.000-08:00

During a very cathartic, blood vessel-popping workout, I listened to this song...several times. I'm dripping in sweat and tears & high on endorphins and am writing this down because I've had this in my head for 10 months now and never said it. There is so much of this song that says it for me. I know what this song was written for but when I listen to the words, so many of them are mine. Because I'm not ready. I can't let go of the issues I have with him for letting my delivery happen the way it did.

I’m through with doubt
There’s nothing left for me to figure out
I’ve paid a price
And I’ll keep paying

I'm so mad and I can't let this go. Be it in a court of law or in the back alley, I need the closure that I don't know if I will ever get. I need to ask him why he did what he did and didn't do what he didn't do. I need to know what he was thinking and why he told me not to tell anyone what he did. I can't let this go. I see his wife and though I have conversations played out in my head with her, I can't let that go, either. She didn't do this, no, but maybe she shares his secret. Maybe he has been honest with her. Maybe he has told her something that I need to know.(Edited to add:) But no one understands this....why I can't treat her like nothing happened...why seeing her makes me feel the way it does...why I am so hurt by the sight, mention, or someone's interaction with her...why I have a problem with her at all. And to tell you the truth, I don't know why, either...but have him be the cause of your son's death and then tell me how you feel about it. Then try to justify your feelings to everyone else.

I’m not ready to make nice
I’m not ready to back down
I’m still mad as hell and
I don’t have time to go round and round and round

I would trade Tim's last breath for one more day, hour, minute or second with my son and wouldn't think twice. But that's only because this didn't have to happen. There are accidents that happen and there are accidents that don't need to happen. I tell my kids this all the time.

He could have actually considered that something might have need to be checked out....all that blood for 13+ hours. He could have actually considered that he might have made a mistake and caused this bleed. He could have actually considered the fact that I had concerns....more than just a worried pregnant mom. But he didn't. He didn't take any precautions. He assumed he was right. And he assumed everything was fine. And he didn't check into any of the things I so desperately needed him to and asked him to. He ignored my feelings.....as I had come accustomed to by this time. His conceit is known by all, but only we suffer because of it.

It’s a sad sad story when a mother will teach her

Daughter that she ought to hate a perfect stranger

My emotions towards this man have transcended to my daughters. Without directly telling them, they know clearly how we feel about Dr. Harkins, despite our very close friendship once upon a time. He did not come to Chase's funeral, nor did his wife. As I lay on his operating table, he told me to tell him what I felt. And I screamed from the moment his knife touched me until I slipped into la-la land; his nurse laying her body on my chest to hold me down. The fear that raced through my veins...the fear that I was going to die....that I would leave my 3 lovely angels motherless....is forever seared in my memory. He came into my hospital room sobbing after I came out of recovery. He mumbled, "I'm so sorry" and that's it. I don't know what he was sorry about. I don't know what he was thinking or what he felt. I was in shock. I was still scared about my own life. I had no idea what was in store for my newborn son. And I never got the chance that I so badly want, to ask him about these things. To question him. To close this chapter and move on. And I doubt I ever will. It's not right. Not right in anyone's eyes....

Forgive, sounds good
Forget, I’m not sure I could
They say time heals everything
But I’m still waiting

Edited: Gray area above.

My Struggles

2010-02-24T12:44:00.001-08:00

Vtine for Chase

2010-02-20T11:35:00.000-08:00

From my dear sweet sis. Little Gracie's valentine for her littlest cousin.....Thanks. You have no idea what this means to me~~~I love it!

Still here

2010-02-19T15:43:00.000-08:00

I miss him so badly. I look at his pictures and I feel him like I am still losing him--in a different way. I look at the pictures and I have them memorized. But as time passes, I have to try harder to see those moments in action....moving, not just still shots in my mind, but his life with us. Those moments. The tragedy. In moving, real life action. Because if I don't try to recall those things, it feels like these are just pictures. Pictures of something that happened...but no memory. I have several different snapshots of him that don't even look like the same baby. I have my favorite photo...the perfect gerber baby face, plus a few tubes and medical leads. But I also have photos of him that aren't so hot. And as my jaded memory slips further away, and I realize what really happened....I see it in these pictures. The magnitude of what happened, how he was born and how lifeless he must have looked in the isolette while the doctor and nurses were working and him. And all that can change my view of what all happened. Maybe we were unrealistically hopeful, despite those words from the doctor that echoed in my brain, "babies are remarkably resilient and often times surprise us...." And he most certainly was as healthy as an ox. That's the one thing I do know.

Almost as accurate as my internal clock is this one particular wave of grief that happens about every 30 days. Hormones, maybe, psychological, maybe. But it's that huge cloud of darkness that just looms over me and I can almost feel the weight of it, physically. So that's where I'm at. Hurting. Like it was yesterday. And no, I don't think it gets easier. I think you learn how to deal with it, yes. But the pain doesn't lessen. That's why there are graves at the cemetery with fresh flowers every week for a baby that died 50 years ago. The focus of the pain shifts from different aspects of the situations that occurred. I may be consumed with a particular moment of his life, before he was born or after, what is still to come, but it all hurts the same. None of it is ever going to change. The pain is never going to go away. I am never going to be ignorant of this feeling or free from it. And that is why learning to live this way, learning to fight the battles I must fight this way, learning to go after my goals and dreams with this in my heart is making me a much stronger person. It's like fighting a battle with one arm and winning and that's what I'm going to continue to do. That's the mom Chase would be proud of.