5 years

I remember so clearly this night 5 years ago. We spent the very last full day of Andrew's life by his side at the hospital. Austin held him for the first time. Sometime that night, we left the hospital and went to Dillard's to buy something nice to wear for his baptism. I kept thinking, "How am I gonna do this?" How does a person go to sleep and wake up the next morning knowing the world is going to stop spinning the way it should? We had to wake up, brush our teeth, wash our faces, eat breakfast, and go to a hospital to baptize and unplug our son from the machines keeping him alive. We weren't sure what would happen next. Would he struggle to live? Would he hang on for minutes, hours...days? We only knew that we were making the decision to let him go and we were braced for whatever came next. Thankfully, he stayed long enough to let us hold him and love him and know his baby body free of wires while he breathed in and out. He lay still in my arms, warm and wrapped up, when his heart finally stopped. I'll never ever forget the doctor's face when she checked his heart one final time and found it still. Our little baby had moved on and we were left holding his body. Left to pick ourselves up and make a life out of the shambles we found around us. My life both stopped and began in that conference room. I died that day with my Andrew. His life and death changed me so deeply. The innocence, the blind hope, the assurance I'd always had died that day. I became brand new with his death. So many things have come from those 13 days 5 years ago. I have new compassion and empathy for situations and people who I never even saw before. I have new friendships with people I consider family now that birthed from those 13 days. My heart is hurting tonight just as it was December 18, 2009. But tonight, I am stronger, more fully aware of how crazy lucky I am to have two little babes tucked in tight in their rooms, more in love with my husband, and so incredibly proud of who we are today. We are unbroken. We survived. We chose light instead of dark, faith instead of hopelessness, fierceness instead of weakness. We protected each other and loved each other and forgave each other every day of these last five years. We made two more beautiful babies and are so immensely thankful for their lives. I look at our family pictures and I see five where everyone else sees four. We, to the world, are four. But, you, sweet Andrew, are always always there. You are knitted into my skin and I'll never be without you. My first sweet boy, you live in my heart, your name is always on my tongue. I wish I could call it out for the world to hear in a different way, one not tinged with grief and loss and missing. Our story is not what it should have been, but it is our story and I'll walk it in whatever way I can. I love you, angel boy.

Birthday Season

My babies birthday parties have come and gone. Susie turned one on September 24. We celebrated her with a sweet little hot air balloon party. She was picture perfect...smiling sweetly, ferociously attacking her cake, squealing at presents. She's such a peach and she makes my world so much softer and sweeter. A few short weeks later, Thomas turned three. We had our first "kid" party with several of his friends. He had been excited for months about his "bulldozer party" and he was not disappointed. He and his friends played in the dirt, decorated hats and toolboxes, and tore down kid approved party food. I'm totally exhausted from planning parties. I'm glad these two are behind me. But (man, there is always that "but" when you've lost a child) I'd give ANYTHING to be planning my third party for a boy turning five. FIVE. How big is that? I can't even wrap my head around that I should have a child so old. He'll always be two weeks old in my head...forever frozen in that conference room five Decembers ago. I'm thankful that my living children have birthdays close to his. I have a fresh picture in my head of how thankful I am to have Thomas and Susie when Andrew's birthday rolls around. I like that he's included in the birthday season and not left off somewhere by himself.

Progress

I'm so happy staying home with these babies that it's borderline obnoxious. I was made for this. My kids are thriving...the best parts of them are bubbling to the surface and I love being there to see every new discovery. I've been home for about 6 weeks and we're settling in so nicely. We've got a pretty good routine down. I do feel a little isolated and I think we need to make some stay at home momma and kid friends. Hopefully, once school is totally back in session, we'll find a few groups to involve ourselves in. It's really hard to break into a new social group. By nature, I have a tendency to stay within my comfort zone but, for the sake of the kids, I know I need to branch out.

We had a meeting today to begin Thomas' transition out of the early intervention speech program. He's a totally different child than he was when we first began the program last winter. We met with the director of the program today who hasn't seen us since last December. The last time she saw us was quite possibly the worst moment in my parenting live children history. Thomas had had his eval to determine his immediate needs. He was pretty grouchy and noncompliant during the eval and ended it with tears and wails all down the hallway of the office. He was so out of control that day. The director, who had to help me forcibly put him in his carseat, counseled me as I cried and cried in the parking lot. She knows all about Andrew and finally told me that Thomas needed more discipline and a little less love. She knew that my grief was totally stopping me from really parenting Thomas in the way that was best for him. I heard the voice I needed to hear that day and our parenting techniques have totally changed. When Thomas walked cheerfully and obediently into her office today, the look on her face was priceless. I couldn't be prouder of the smart, vocal, happy boy that lives in my house. He is still headstrong and willful, but he's respectful and full of life.

My sweet Susie is becoming more and more of a toddler every day. I feel like she was a little baby for such a short time. Maybe it is because she is our last, or maybe it is because we are so much busier now than we were with Thomas, but her life is flying by! She is so so close to walking and has taken several steps. She still doesn't trust her legs so there is a fair amount of falling and shrieking. Oh, the shrieking! She has most definitely discovered her voice and she loves to use it! She says mama and dada and waves and says byebye. She loves her brother and wants everything that is his. The fights have been epic these days, but sister is persistent and brother is mostly gentle. The planning has begun for her first birthday. I've gotta get busy sewing and crafting. I love to party plan and little sister's party may be over the top.

Momma 365

I started a new life today. Yesterday was my last day of work for a year...staying home full time with Thomas and Suzanne. I feel so happy yet so sad to leave my work behind. Luckily, I am fortunate to co-own LuLu's with my lovely sister (who is taking on a huge task of mostly running the store alone for a year) and I can pop in and out when I need a little retail therapy. I'll still go to market and will help with inventory stuff, but I won't really have any daily responsibilities. What a fantastic setup, huh?! I'm hoping to sort of chronicle the year here with our daily doings...I want my kids, who will mostly not remember this year, to have some sort of record of this time. I'm so thankful for and terrified of this venture. I hope to learn to trust myself as a parent; that I am in fact the best person for them to be with all of the time. Today was lovely, we started it off with a visit from Lulu and Mimi, who came up to surprise me at the LuLu's surprise going away party. I straightened up a bit while Susie napped, and then we all headed off to the park. We swung "super high" and played until everyone was crazy sweaty. Then we met Aunt Corinne at The Blind Pig for lunch. Super nice time. Back home to nap. Thomas is having tons of issues with sleeping. To be blunt, he's taking his pull up or underwear off and peeing everywhere in the hopes that I will let him get up. Wrong kiddo...all that earns you is a soggy sleep. I guess persistence and a little tough love will nip it in the bud. Either that or he'll start sleeping in the yard. I'm not above either. So, here's to the next year. I'm so incredibly excited.

Right this moment

Just a little while ago, I was sitting on the couch feeding Suzanne and watching Thomas build train tracks all over the living room floor. He loves his new hand-me-down train set...the best free toy we've ever gotten. I love to watch his brain work...love to see the light come on when he figures something out. He babbles and laughs and learns and I couldn't be happier to watch him. I watched him, snuggled her and thought of how very lucky I am. Just a very short time ago, I ached to be a mother. My Andrew came along and gave me everything I ever wanted. I'll never forget the feel of my heart lurching the moment I saw that long awaited positive pregnancy test. I remember calling Corinne in a hot panic, needing to hear someone's voice to confirm that I wasn't dreaming. And then he was gone and the ache was back, stronger and more fierce than I could ever have imagined. Along came Thomas, and, not long after, Susie. My heart is so full even in the darkest corners where grief will always live. Having living children magnifies the enormity of our loss, but I still feel lucky tonight. I feel grateful that I have kissed three precious heads of babies that will always be mine. How many people ever get that gift...no matter how brief one of those heads was in my hands.

4 years

Hey there, baby boy. We're walking the days of your life again...4 years later. You turned 4 last Friday. I took the day off, stayed home with brother and sister and just enjoyed them. It was an icy day...we snuggled in tight and stayed in our PJs all day. Aunt Corinne came over for breakfast after Daddy left for work. Beth came over with lunch and a cookie for Thomas. She didn't realize it but she brought an orange flavored cookie from a little pastry shop in town. Oranges...you smelled like oranges on your last day. They used these little orange scented cloths to remove the sticky residue from the tape on your face so I could see you all cleaned up for the first and last time. Daddy came home early and we made dinner. Charles came over to eat with us. Super easy and sweet day. But, oh my, sweet boy, do I miss you. How badly I wish your birthday was the happy day it should be. I wish it weren't so fragile and delicate and sacred. I want balloons and cake and sticky kids hands to fill every December 6th for the rest of my life. I wish so badly things were different. Four years seems so crazy long and yet I can close my eyes and see every moment of your life and it feels so close. I hope that I never lose that. It would seem so cruel to lose those vivid memories...that they should be taken too when everything else that matters is already gone. Watch over us, my boy. You have two little siblings who need to feel your presence somehow. I can only tell them your story...your very brief story. They'll never rub your sweet little cheeks, never kiss your precious toes, never hold your tiny hands. But, please never worry that you won't be their brother. I will always tell your story. You will always always matter. 4 years, 14 years, 40 years from now...I will miss you, I will love you, I will remember you. Sending you every bit of my love to you, sweetest Drewbie.

Suzanne Claire

Since my last post, our family has grown by one sweet, quiet baby girl. Here is the story of her arrival. At my 38 week appointment, Dr. Dulaney told me that we could schedule an induction if I wanted to. I always get super antsy towards the end...I always think that if everybody is doing well, we should be born before things go south. Crazy how losing a baby will change your views on "babies come when they are ready." I still want to believe it, but I just can't. Anyway, we scheduled her birth for Friday, September 20th. We called the grandparents, made arrangements for Thomas, and settled in to the notion that we'd have a baby in our arms so very soon. A few days later, I got a call from Laura, Dr. Dulaney's nurse, saying that the hospital was booked that day and we'd have to wait until Tuesday, September 24th. I was pretty okay with it at first, you know, no big deal. A few hours later, after the news sunk in, I completely lost it. I had made it so far...was so close to meeting my girl, only two or three days out. Now I had to wait even longer...more time for things to go wrong. Too close to the 40 week mark for me to feel even remotely comfortable. We scheduled a checkup appointment for Thursday, September 19 just to check on her. Unfortunately, I live in a world where babies pass their Non-Stress Tests with flying colors one day and die the next. I spent the few days between that Thursday and the following Tuesday counting every movement and worrying constantly. Tuesday morning, September 24th started early early. We woke at 2:30, I showered, put on my cutest maternity shirt, and we headed to Germantown around 3:45. Thomas was tucked in warmly at home with his sweet Mamaw & Papaw. We were slated to check into the hospital at 5:00am. We arrived, all excited and full of nerves. The lady at the front desk began the check in process and then got a worried look on her face. She said I wasn't in the system to be checked in that day. I was seriously not prepared to hear that news. The charge nurse came out, assured me that there had been a mixup somewhere, and that I would be able to deliver at some point that day. I just had to wait until there was room. So, Austin and I got comfy in God's coldest waiting room. I was thankful that I cheated and had smuggled a banana in my purse. I went to the bathroom, hid in a stall and ate it. Later on, I bought a Sprite and hid in the same stall to drink that. I'm a rule breaker. Around 7:30, we finally got checked in and hooked up to the monitors. Baby girl was doing great...I was having a few mild contractions on my own, but nothing to get too excited about. We started Pitocin soon after, cranking it up little by little every thirty minutes or so. I could tell that the contractions were getting going in a decent pattern, but I still wasn't too bothered. I think I got checked somewhere around lunch and I was only dilated to about 3 cm. Family came in and went out, Austin ate quietly in the corner with my blessing. He was sweet and was planning on skipping lunch since I couldn't eat, but it really didn't bother me. I stayed in the bed until around 2:30 or so when the contractions were getting really strong...so much that I was really unable to speak to anyone normally and they required all of my concentration. Corinne and Austin were in the room with me...Momma came in around 2:45. That is when I remember hard labor really starting. I went back and forth between the bed and the bathroom. I really only felt any comfort when I was in the bathroom. I guess holding onto the bar and resting my head on the cold wall of the bathroom helped. I don't remember ever ever feeling so hot. Looking back, I realize how similar my labor motions were to Andrew's birth. Bathrooms are a laboring woman's friend...the only place I felt any comfort during Andrew's labor. The contractions were coming hard, one right on top of the other with barely time to rest. I don't know how I would have made it through had Corinne not been there, reminding me to breathe through it and to let it go once it was over...to take them one at a time. I asked to be checked, feeling very very near my breaking point. I remember hanging onto the sink, thinking, "Why am I trying to be a hero?" I remember thinking that if they checked me and I wasn't past 7, I wanted an epidural. She checked me around 3:20 and I was at a 7. I told them I wanted to call for the epidural. Corinne assured me that I was near the end, but I knew how long I had pushed with Thomas and Andrew and I just couldn't see being in anymore pain for the hours of labor I was sure I had left. I assume they called for the epidural, but immediately after I had these crazy bad, super fast contractions...probably the worst I'd ever had. I started making these insane birthing noises and my body started pushing. I heard them call for the doctor (who was still at her office because no one had alerted her to how fast I was going), I pushed twice and out came my Suzanne at 3:34pm. No one was prepared for her to come so quickly. They hadn't even set up the little isolette for her. The poor nurse barely caught her with one hand. I don't even remember looking at her or really even thinking about her for a good two minutes or so as I was so relieved to be out of the pain. When I did finally look up, I saw my beautiful girl, full of life with a head full of hair. Her head was perfectly round since she was only in the birth canal for a very short time. Dr. Dulaney rushed in a few minutes after she was born. I regret she missed the birth since it is certainly my last. I am still shocked at how hard and fast the labor was. She was the most painful, but by far the easiest of my births if that makes any sense. I am super proud that I had her with no epidural...even though I was a big, whiny mess. We're settled in so nicely at home. We had a rocky few weeks with Thomas who wasn't sure how to react. He has always been very loving and sweet to his sister, but he wasn't sure how to feel about me anymore. He wouldn't really come near me and CLUNG to his daddy. That didn't last too long, but shortly thereafter we moved into the tantrum phase. He was misbehaving at every turn and testing every limit he'd ever had. We think now that we've gotten a good handle on it. It's still a moment by moment road with him, but it is definitely easier and totally manageable. Suzanne Claire, you are a joy. You have a quiet, peaceful temperament and have added so much light to our home. You are mostly sleeping through the night and have been for a few weeks now. You rarely fuss and you almost never cry. I can't believe how lucky we are to have you. You complete our little family. You look just like your oldest brother, Andrew. I wish with every breath I take that he was here with us, could know you and your brother. I love you, little girl and I am so thankful for your life.