Mother's Ring for Mother's Day

For a long time now, I have wanted a mother's ring. I wasn't exactly even sure what kind of ring to get--one with birthstones, or one with engraving. I had asked for one for Christmas, but unknown to me at the time, my friend, Kathie, had already written to Jim about a ring she was getting for me. She had seen the company, http://www.nellandlizzy.com/, in Oprah's magazine. After she ordered it, they informed her that it was going to be quite awhile before they could get to making the ring--the magazine had launched them to a popularity they were unable to keep up with. So she decided to give it to me for Mother's Day.

Today we went to Starbucks to hang out, and she gave me the ring. She gave credit to Jim for helping her out with the sizing and planning. Of course, I love it!!!! It is so perfect, and so ME. I don't like big, shiny, "blingy" jewelry, and I don't really wear that kind of stuff. That is why I chose a very simple wedding ring. It's just my personal taste. The ring looks aged, and very classy. I think it's absolutely perfect.

It is also perfect in that it doesn't fit on my right hand ring finger--apparently that finger is larger than the one on my left hand. It does fit on the ring finger of my left hand, but not with my wedding ring. So I put it on the pinky of my left hand, and it looks perfect! I love how it looks right next to my wedding ring. It represents nicely my 3 loves--Jim, Brian, and Sawyer. One of the really cool features is that the ring is really 2 rings intertwined, so they are always changing position--one is never "more important" than the other.

Thank you SO much, Kathie, for such a wonderful reminder of my boys. It is just perfect in every way, and I can't wait to show it off! I couldn't have chosen a more perfect ring myself! You are a wonderful friend, and I love you. Thanks for remembering me at this holiday and recognizing me as a mother. It means a lot to me, more than you could know.

This is a poem that, oddly, I had printed out and even had one of my speech students read for competition years ago, before I married Jim or lost the boys. It's strange to me that I was so moved by these words, even then.

Slipping
by Svea Barrett

There are things I can't seem to hold, things always slipping from me,
like messages for you, lists of errands, pens and chalk, all the broken
dishes and spilled cups of coffee -- just this morning a fresh cup,
steaming, spread across the blacktop in Duncan Donuts' parking lot.

And that time, the last time we drove in silence down to Philly again,
to Children's Hospital, where they cut and hold babies' hearts
every day. The doctor I didn't like met us at the door before we could
even wash our hands or put on those masks and stiff, green gowns.

"Be prepared." His voice was flat. "He looks bad today. His kidneys are failing.
He's very bloated." I tried to leave but he held my arm. "I'm serious. Be prepared."
My teeth drew blood from somewhere deep inside the dryness of my mouth.
My jaws and armpits clenched. Your hand clamped onto my shoulder.

Inside I stroked our son's stretched skin and winced for him.
I feared my slightest touch would explode us both all over the hospital floor.
I whispered once into his swollen ear, and we slipped out to sit on that
hard wooden bench in the hall, not speaking, all our words long gone.

We sat 'til there was nothing left to do but drive back home.
You had to work, and our other twin waited for me.
I didn't know then that mothers often ask to
hold them, even after they're gone.

He just slipped out of my reach, like everything else does lately,
except for this memory slipped around my neck and holding tight.
Another opportunity missed, like so many chances for us to talk,
since it became clear things would not be turning out the way you planned.

This morning the tiny bar of soap on the shower floor dissolved
and disappeared before I could try to hold its slippery roundness and
finish washing. I stand and shiver, cooling water slides through my hair
and thighs, but I'm not clean. I'm still not even close to being clean.

SAWYER JAMES RENNIE

March 31, 2007 ~ April 11, 2007

Sawyer, you left us in the wee hours of the morning, quietly and peacefully, with complete courage. Our beautiful boy, we love you. We are so lost without you, yet we celebrate the wonder and miracle of you. We are so proud you are our son.

The songs on our playlist are all dedicated to Sawyer. For various reasons, they all bring him instantly to mind. Some of them we played for him, some were played at his funeral, and some of them are songs that are inseperable from his little life. We were listening to Regina Spektor almost constantly during the two weeks before he was born, and then while he was alive. If we get into the car and play her CDs, we are instantly and heartbreakingly transported to those moments in time. It feels like I am pregnant again, full of hope . . .or on my way to St. Francis to check into the antenatal unit . . .or driving up to visit Sawyer in the NICU. Many of the songs are almost completely perfect to describe Sawyer and his life . . .like Blackbird, or Love . . .and others have an ambiance that just "feels" like him. Some have a line that just grabs our hearts and brings us closer to our son. We hope you will take some time to listen.

And did you get what you wanted from this life, even so?
I did.
And what did you want?
To call myself beloved, to feel myself beloved on the earth.

~Raymond Carver

For My Love

Our anniversary was on Monday, April 7. A lot has happened to us in two years of marriage, but we're still holding on to each other through all this stormy weather.

Jim . . .thank you for being you, for loving me, and for saving me every day. I will never let go of you . . .

Here's to better days ahead.

First Day of My Life
by Bright Eyes

This is the first day of my life
I swear I was born right in the doorway
I went out in the rain suddenly everything changed
They're spreading blankets on the beach

Yours is the first face that I saw
I think I was blind before I met you
Now I don’t know where I am
I don’t know where I’ve been
But I know where I want to go

And so I thought I’d let you know
That these things take forever
I especially am slow
But I realize that I need you
And I wondered if I could come home

Remember the time you drove all night
Just to meet me in the morning
And I thought it was strange you said everything changed
You felt as if you'd just woke up

And you said “this is the first day of my life
I’m glad I didn’t die before I met you
But now I don’t care I could go anywhere with you
And I’d probably be happy”

So if you want to be with me
With these things there’s no telling
We just have to wait and see
But I’d rather be working for a paycheck
Than waiting to win the lottery

Besides maybe this time is different
I mean I really think you like me

Tiger in the Night
by Katie Melua

You are the tiger burning bright
Deep in the forest of my night
You are the one who keeps me strong in this world

You sleep by the silent cooling streams
Down in the darkness of my dreams
All of my life I never knew
You were the dream I'd see come true
You are the tiger burning bright

I was the one who looked so hard I could not see.
Now I could never live without the love you give to me.

I lived like a wild and lonely soul,
Lost in a dream beyond control.
You were the one who brought me home down to earth.

For you are the tiger burning bright
Deep in the forest of my night
All of my life I never knew
You were the dream I'd see come true
You are the tiger burning bright

Sawyer's First Birthday

To celebrate Sawyer's birthday and remember him in the most positive way possible, we did several special things.

To begin with, we made little treat bags full of candy. I attached cards to each one. The pictures didn't turn out that great, but they will give you the general idea.

I passed out the treats at work, and then Jim and I delivered them to some close friends and family members.

After that, we headed to the NICU. We took a huge bag of candy filled with several of the cards. Strangely enough, the first person to come out of the NICU and see us standing there was Dr. Ramiro, his primary doctor. She came over and talked with us. When we told her it was Sawyer's birthday she got teared up, and of course, I did too. We got ready to leave, and I was walking down the hallway crying, when suddenly I heard this little squeal of my name. It was Emma, the nurse who was very close to Sawyer. She came to his funeral, and she was awarded the Daisy based on our nomination. She was so excited to see us, and she cried too. She told us that whenever she's training new students, she takes them to the collage of Sawyer and shows his pictures and the letter we wrote. She said it has helped to give her a lot of comfort and perspective, and she wants to show others his story to inspire them. She said it is good to know that even if the story isn't the typical "success" that we all hope for, it doesn't mean it was a "failure" either. From the letter that we wrote to the staff, she learned how successful it was that Sawyer had love all his life, and how grateful we were for their constant help, diligence, and support. She also said she realized how much their jobs mean, not just to the babies, but also to their families. It was soooo great to see her. She is and always will be very special to us.


After that, we stopped by the store to pick out a birthday card. We found the perfect one . . .absolutely perfect.

We also bought some baby tulips for his grave.

And some cupcakes--one for each of the boys.

We went to the cemetery, but since the winds were SO crazy you couldn't even walk in a straight line, we decided to bring back his stuff the next day. We talked to him (and his brother too, of course) for awhile, and then came back home. Then on Tuesday we took all of his stuff to his grave. Jim also bought a little birdhouse that we are going to paint and plant something in, which we will take when the weather is nicer.

Several people remembered Sawyer and us with nice gifts and cards.

These candles are in memory of the boys from my friend, Tressa:

This is from my grandmother:

This is from my friend Jami:

This is from my parents:

This is from Jim's parents, made by Jim's mother:

We are so grateful to all of you, not just those mentioned here, but everyone who sent emails, cards, notes, and lit candles for Sawyer. It is so important to us that he is remembered, but at the same time, it is also nice to feel so much love and support from so many. Peace and love . . .

An Early Morning Wish

One year ago today, my son came into the world. I can't give him presents or a cake, but I can say . . .Happy Birthday, Sawyer. We love you and miss you so much.

You can light a candle for Sawyer at his memorial site.

Just Something Funny

You know the Johnny Cash song "A Boy Named Sue?" Well, Jim read the other day that it was written by Shel Silverstein. I looked it up, and it's true! It was inspired by his friend, Jean Shepherd, who wrote and narrated the movie "A Christmas Story" and other humourous works. He thought his name sounded feminine, hence the song. Just a bit of trivia for you!

Okay, here's the final blog I promised, with another one to come after Sawyer's birthday on Monday.

I just finished reading "Beautiful Boy" by David Sheff. From his biography on his website:

"Along with The New York Times Magazine, Sheff, a contributing editor to Playboy, has also written for The New York Times, Wired, Fortune, Rolling Stone, Outside, The Los Angeles Times Magazine, Esquire and Observer Magazine in England, Foreign Literature in Russia, and Playboy (Shueisha) in Japan. He has conducted seminal interviews with John Lennon and Yoko Ono, nuclear physicist Ted Taylor, Congressman Barney Frank, Steve Jobs, Ansel Adams, Thomas Friedman, the founders of Google, Tom Hanks, Betty Friedan, Keith Haring, Jack Nicholson, Carl Sagan, Larry Ellison, Salman Rushdie, and others. He also wrote an award-winning documentary about John Steinbeck's The Grapes of Wrath and a radio special about Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird, both for National Public Radio, and wrote and edited Heart Play: Unfinished Dialogue, which won a Grammy Award nomination for Best Spoken Word Recording of 1984." He also wrote a great book about the videogame industry called "Game Over."

This book is about his son Nic's addiction to crystal meth. I was going to try to write a book review, but I really just want to encourage you all to read it. It's one of the most honest, heartbreaking, and in the end, hopeful books I've ever read. Someone on amazon, amidst the rave reviews, gave it a lower rating because they wanted father and son to pen the book together, in order to give "both sides of the story." Nic Sheff did write his book, called "Tweak." However, I really feel that this is David's story alone, the story of his relationship with his son, and how he and the rest of their family dealt with this addiction. I have heard many addict's stories, but I haven't read a good book by someone who loves an addict. I would strongly recommend this book to all--not just people who have dealt with addiction or loving someone with addiction, but any parent.

The real beauty of this book is that I felt I was living vicariously through David. His concerns became my concerns; his joys, my joys. It takes a powerful writer to make hisor her reader feel so closely knit into the story. I felt like David, Karen, Nic, Jasper, and Daisy were my family, and I wanted to trust Nic, and I wanted to comfort Jasper and Daisy, and on and on.

The funny part is that the book ends at the present. There is no further to go. This story is still being written. Yet I wanted more! I wanted to know how it ends . . .even though logically I know it isn't over yet. I wanted to be able to see into the future and know how this all turns out.
The book lived with me and lives in me still. It's definitely a must-read!

As promised, here is blog #2. The boys celebrated their second Easter this year--Brian's second in Heaven, Sawyer's first. We were lucky enough to have him with us last year for Easter.

Jim and I chose some wooden eggs and egg-cups from Hobby Lobby, along with 2 little rings that Jim found sitting side by side, all on their own. We never saw any others in the store, so it seemed to be a sign!

Jim painted the eggs with the boys' names on them, and then a design on the back of each--a butterfly for Brian and a sailboat for Sawyer. He painted the cups to look like grass on Brian's and the sea on Sawyer's. I think they look perfect! Their daddy did a great job!

We went out to the cemetary during the evening and put the easter eggs and rings by the boys' headstone. We miss them so much, but it's nice to be able to at least do something to remember them on special holidays.

Sawyer Flies

As Sawyer’s first birthday approaches, I figured it was time to tell you about the painting my friend, Nichole, made for us.

Nichole is a very, very gifted artist. You can learn more about her at her website. She’s also a crazy lady who loves teaching high school so much that she continues to do it, even though she wouldn’t have to. She inspires young people every day to express themselves creatively. I have always loved her work. In fact, my friend Jami and I were talking one day about how much we would LOVE to have one of her paintings, and only a couple of days later (just before Christmas) she came into the center, where her sons attend, and presented me with a gift.

As soon as I looked at the painting, I started crying. I couldn’t believe how amazing it was. It instantly moved me, for it captured our son Sawyer’s spirit and his passing from this earth in such a perfect, poignant way.

Nichole knew that we had played the song "Blackbird" for Sawyer before he passed away. She was also at his funeral, where we had a slide show, the end of which was set to that song. So this inspired her to create "Sawyer Flies."

Unbelievably, she was nervous about giving it to us. She told a friend that she almost didn’t do it, because she was so afraid that we might not like it. I cannot fathom what would possess her to think that. We would have loved the painting no matter what, even if it was only a tenth as wonderful as it is. BUT . . .and when you see it, I am sure you will agree . . .how someone with that amount of talent could ever doubt herself is beyond me.

I have started a dozen different letters to Nichole to try to thank her for this gift. I have yet to finish one. I can’t seem to find the words to say what is in my heart. Not only did she care about Jim and I enough to offer us a piece of her artwork as a gift, but she also loves our son, and has acknowledged and memorialized him in an absolutely incredible way. I can’t thank her enough for the piece of her heart that has become a piece of ours. It is hanging in the main entry of our apartment, and every day, as I walk by, I look at it and remember Sawyer. The painting expresses so brilliantly my feelings . . ."You were only waiting for this moment to arise." Sawyer was set free to fly through the pain and into endless beauty.

This is my way of saying thank you to Nichole. Nichole, I hope you read this. If you do, please know how much I love you and value your friendship. You have been a source of comfort, inspiration, and peace to me throughout this ordeal. I have met someone through you, as well . . .your sister, Amy, who has become a dear friend and another person I can count on to understand my pain, sorrow, and confusion. I am so lucky to have you both in my life. I honestly don’t know where I would be without Jim and friends like you to help carry this burden, and yes, even to make it lighter. You continue to amaze me with your compassion and generosity. I will never be able to say thank you enough, but I will at least try . . .so thank you.



And, as a p.s. . .I have tears running down my face, yet I still wanted to point out that Simon Cowell, who criticized "Blackbird," called Lee Greenwood a "brilliant writer" and "I’m Proud to be an American" a "brilliant song." Touché, Simon. Touché.

Okay. I have about 3 blogs to write. I need to catch up. I know this. However, I have the day off today and I’m going to spend it with Jim, who also has the day off! Yay! A non-weekend day off together is very rare!

Anyway, here is a preview of my 3 blogs, for anyone who is interested. I will be writing them over the next couple of days.

1.) The piece of artwork my friend, Nichole, made for Jim and I. It is called "Sawyer Flies" and was inspired by him and the song we played at his funeral (and for him when he was alive), "Blackbird" by the Beatles. It’s really amazing, and I have intended to write this blog for months, but haven’t been able to find the right words. I decided that the "right words" aren’t as important as the telling.

Incidentally, I’m really mad at Simon Cowell for calling the song "cheesy" and saying, "You had the entire Beatles catalog to choose from, and you chose a song about a Blackbird." Well, Simon, who obviously hasn’t listened to much Beatles music, has also missed out on one of the best songs in the world. It is very special to me, Jim, and our boys, and we feel it tells Sawyer’s story perfectly.

2. Easter and what we made for the boys, including pictures.

3. My thoughts about one of the best books I have read in a long, long time. It’s called "Beautiful Boy" by David Sheff (he interviewed John and Yoko) and it’s about his son’s addiction to crystal meth.

Also, next Monday is Sawyer’s birthday, so I will be blogging about how we celebrated and my thoughts on his first year in Heaven.

Take care!

Blackbird

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to be free.

Blackbird fly blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night.

Blackbird fly blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
You were only waiting for this moment to arise.

2 years ago today, I found out I was pregnant for the first time. Last year, my second son was here for Easter. And still, we miss them terribly, and always will. It is a grief that never ceases.

On My First Son
by Ben Jonson


Farewell, thou child of my right hand, and joy ;
My sin was too much hope of thee, lov'd boy.
Seven years thou wert lent to me, and I thee pay,
Exacted by thy fate, on the just day.
Oh, could I lose all father now ! For why
Will man lament the state he should envy?
To have so soon 'scaped world's and flesh's rage,
And if no other misery, yet age !
Rest in soft peace, and, asked, say, Here doth lie
Ben Jonson his best piece of poetry.
For whose sake henceforth all his vows be such
As what he loves may never like too much.

It must be the time of year.

The other day, as we were driving back from Peoria, Jim and I both had such a strong reaction to driving by St. Francis. The sky looks the same, the weather is similar, and it just feels so familiar. It feels like we should still be in the NICU.

I've been feeling a lot of . . .well, I suppose that anger is the right word. Lately, I have heard so many people talking about the miracles God has performed, how He saved their loved ones from the brink of death, how He protected them and wouldn't let them fall. I don't begrudge these people their miracles. I really don't. I am very happy when people's health is restored, or they are saved from a tragic accident, or whatever the case might be. It's just that I wish I could have had my miracle too.

Yes, my sons were both miracles. But if it's a question of prayer, which people claim it is whenever things go their way, then Sawyer was prayed for as much as anyone else has ever been. Why didn't God save him?? Why wasn't he pulled back from the brink of death? He was a baby, pure, simple, a clean slate, who never had a chance to live. Why not perform a miracle on him? And if God saves people based on the prayers offered, which people tell me He does, then does he allow someone to die if no one says a prayer? What if only one person prays, or two? How many is enough?

I had to deliver one son knowing that no such miracle could be. There was nothing the doctors could do. I had to accept that, even though I still prayed and prayed and prayed and prayed that God would save him. I asked God to let him live even if it meant that I would die, and I really meant it. I would have given my life for both of my sons.

So after that tragedy, which feels like a nightmare that I am only now waking from, I am given another son, another chance, and still . . .he was taken from me. People always say that God has a plan, that the days of our lives are numbered . . .yet when someone survives a potentially fatal accident, they say that God saved him. How does God decide who to save? Why wasn't my son one of the chosen ones?

I'll never understand any of it. All I know is that my heart is still aching every day, but added to it is this raw anger. The more I hear of other people's miracles, the more angry I become. I know jealousy is wrong, but how could I not be jealous? They got their miracle. Why didn't my son get his?

Since I rarely write here anymore, I wonder if anyone even checks it or reads it. Either way, it's nice to occassionally have a place to express my feelings.

I had the strongest feeling of deja vu tonight that I think I've ever had in my life. I suddenly had the feeling that it was time to call the hospital and check up on Sawyer, then get ready and go to see him. It is impossible to describe the magnitude of how I was feeling. I genuinely found myself living in that moment. I could feel exactly how it felt then . . .how I felt physically, how life felt, how the hospital felt and smelled, how the pumping room felt and smelled, how my little boy looked when I sat next to him, how he held my hand . . .it hit me so hard in about 30 seconds, and I could barely breathe. It feels like another lifetime.

I never want to forget how it felt to be his mom. I was so lucky. I had nothing else in the world to worry about, aside from being Sawyer's mom. I didn't have work or church or any expectations from the rest of the world. In the daily hustle and bustle, it's easy to forget how amazing those 11 days were. It's easy to forget how happy and hopeful we were, and how incredible his little life was. I need to hold so tightly to those feelings and never let them go.

Thanks to all who have been writing, checking up on me, and telling me they miss hearing from me. We just got a new computer. Our old one got to the point where it was barely running, and to check and reply to emails was taking hours. So I'm back, and I have really appreciated everyone's care and concern. We're hanging in there, which I suppose is the best we can do. Love to all.

I was tagged by my friend April, so I decided to do this little survey about books. Since it's been 2 months (really???) since I've blogged, I figured this would be a good way to get back into it. And by the way, I have had about 10 things I meant to write about, so hopefully I will get caught up soon . . .my husband has strep throat and I have acute bronchitis, so maybe when this illness passes, I will be able to get some writing done.

Book Meme

1. One book that changed your life.
Einstein's Dreams by Alan Lightman, Beloved by Toni Morrison, and The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry.

2. One book that you have read more than once.
The Chronicles of Narnia by CS Lewis, all Sheri Reynolds' books, Danny Champion of the World by Roald Dahl, Dicey's Song by Cynthia Voigt, lots of Stephen King novels, Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury, and soooooo many more . . .any book I love!

3. One book that you would want on a desert island.
The Bible

4. One book that made you laugh.
The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole Aged 13¾ by Sue Townsend.

5. One book you have been meaning to read.
Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen.

At the Holidays

A friend posted this and I thought I would too. It's a really good look inside the hearts of grieving parents. It's a tough time of year, made even tougher if people forget to remember.

Do not worry that mentioning the name of the child will "remind" bereaved parents of their child. We remember our child every minute of every day. We want to talk about our child. Mention his name. One of our biggest fears is that he will be forgotten and one of our biggest joys is to hear his name.

Understand that we are parents without the right number of children. Because of this we experience over and over again fear, anger, guilt, sorrow, loss of future, isolation, abandonment. These are not steps that we work through but feelings that will continue to return forever with various intensity and in different forms.

Keep in mind that there really is no "closure" to the grief for the loss of a child. How can there be? Such loss is against nature and against all that we understand in the passage from one generation to the next.

What you say to bereaved parents is less important than that you say something. Ignoring bereaved parents is only adding to the burden of grief. Simply asking "How are you doing?" can be very helpful. But do it often.

When bereaved parents return to the workplace, make sure that you stop by, even if it's just to say "hello." After the loss of a child, parents often feel as if they are starting all over. This "new life" is just in the infancy stage and a friendly word makes a difference.

Call bereaved parents just to let them know you are thinking about them. Don't be insulted if they do not call you. Grieving saps energy for a long time.

Never think that grieving parents are somehow "holding onto their grief. "There is no such thing. The loss of a child causes endless grief that becomes part of the bereaved parent's inner self forever.

Remember that grief is not a process that one goes through a step at a time. Grieving is a roller coaster ride, and it is circular. The first couple of years, we are numb. When the numbness goes away, we are shocked to see that the world has gone on without our child. When we come out of this numbness, we are different people with a new sense of what it is to be "normal."

When parents lose their child, their hearts are broken. A huge hole is left. This hole will never heal - only the jagged edges around the hole may heal with time. Our grief, not always in the same form and maybe not as intense, will be with us the rest of our lives.

It does not matter how a child died or whether he was one week old or sixty years old. Nor does it matter whether there are surviving children. There is something absolute about the loss of each and every individual child.

Certain times of year will trigger intense sadness. Birthdays, anniversaries of the death, holidays, Mother's and Father's Day, weddings and funerals are just some. We can never properly prepare ourselves for these days. A simple "I am thinking of you and I know this day must be hard" goes a long way with bereaved parents.

THE NEW NORMAL
~anonymous

It is amazing what can become "normal" to us . . .

Normal for me is trying to decide what to take to the cemetery for Christmas, birthday, Valentine’s day, and Easter.

Normal is sitting at the computer crying, sharing how you feel with chat buddies who have also lost a child.

Normal is feeling like you know how to act and are more comfortable with a funeral and being at the cemetery. Yet, feeling a stab of pain in your heart when you smell the flowers, see that casket, and all the crying people.

Normal is feeling like you can't sit another minute without getting up and screaming because you just don't like to sit through church anymore. And yet feeling like you have more faith and belief in God than you ever have had before.

Normal is having tears waiting behind every smile when you realize someone important is missing from all the important events in your families' life.

Normal is not sleeping very well because a thousand 'what if's' and 'why didn't I's' go through your head constantly.

Normal is having the TV on the minute you wake up and the last thing as you go to sleep at night. . .feeling the desperate need for noise because the silence is deafening.

Normal is every happy event in your life always being backed up with sadness lurking close behind because of the hole in your heart.

Normal is telling the story of your baby’s death as if it were an everyday common place activity and then gasping in horror at how awful it sounds.

And yet realizing it has become part of our normal.

Normal is each year coming up with the difficult task of how to honor your child's memory and their birthday and survive those days. And trying to find the balloon or flag that fits the occasion.

Normal is feeling a common bond with friends in England, Australia, Netherlands, Canada, and all over the USA, yet never having met any of them face to face.

Normal is a new friendship with another grieving mother and meeting for coffee and talking and crying together over our children and our new lives.

Normal is being too tired to care if you paid the bills, cleaned house or did laundry or if there is any food in the house.

Normal is wondering this time whether you are going to say you have children because it is not worth explaining that they are in Heaven. And yet when you avoid that problem you feel horrible as if you have betrayed your children.

And last of all normal is hiding all the things that have become normal for you to feel, so that everyone around you will think that you are "normal".

What impropriety or limit can there be in our grief for a man so beloved?
~Horace, Carmina

A friend recently asked me if I wished my blog was anonymous, and I admitted that sometimes I did. I would like to facelessly/namelessly be able to share my deepest feelings without fear of judgement. I would like to be able to say I am still grieving without being accused of selfish motives (apparently if I say I'm sad, it's just so people will comfort me). Unfortunately, through some lessons learned both here and in real life, I have come to understand that there will always be people who judge us, and hiding behind masks doesn't make it any easier to bear.

I am still sad. Despite what others might think, it's not depression. I know depression, have experienced it quite deeply, and still deal with it. This goes deeper than depression, and it's completely different. It is grief, and it is profound. I've gotten really, really good at fooling people. I can do what they want . . .act happy, don't mention my boys (it might upset someone!), and pretend that everything is going great. But the thing that scares me is that I've gotten so good at it, I almost fool myself sometimes. Looking through my picture folders on my computer last night, I realized it had been months since I'd looked at Brian and Sawyer's photos. I went through them, and immediately the tears began to flow. What hurt the most was my sudden realization that I'd been trying so hard to convince everyone else I was okay I had neglected to spend time with my sons.

So tonight, this is what you get. My ramblings and my music. I updated my song list because when you can't speak grief, music can do it for you.

Grief. The pain now is part of the happiness then. That's the deal.

~C.S. Lewis

PART I

"I count myself in nothing else so happy

As in a soul rememb'ring my good friends."

~William Shakespeare

I said in my last blog that I was going to tell you about meeting another angel-mom, as well as my weekend with Jim, so I am starting with Part I and moving on to Part II later on.

Over the weekend of October 6th, Jim and I had originally planned to participate in the SHARE Walk in St. Louis. It is to benefit an organization that provides free materials to grieving parents after the loss of a child. One of my angel-mom friends here, Heidi, had invited us to join her team, and we were really looking forward to the event. All of the babies' names were to be read aloud in memoriam before the walk, and they would all be printed on the t-shirts. I thought it would be a wonderful way to honor our sons' memories. Unfortunately, Jim couldn't get the time off work. Being one of the newer employees means that you basically have to do what they say when they say to do it, and they don't give "time off" to really anyone. It was his weekend, he had to work, and that was it. Period. So I was really bummed that we couldn't go.

Well, it's funny how things work out sometimes. I believe that God has a hand in these things, but whatever you believe, it's pretty amazing when one door closes and a window opens, which is what happened to us.

When I was pregnant with Brian, still in my first trimester with no hint of the tragedy that would befall us, my friend Nicole told me that her sister, Amy, had lost her son, Tyler. He was lost at full term, and it was a huge shock to everyone. At the time, I remember crying when Nicole told me and feeling very, very sad . . .but I had no idea that soon I would be able to relate to the deep pain Amy was going through. Even though I sympathized with her, I couldn't truly understand, because I never thought anything like that would happen to me.

Well, as you all know, a few months later, I lost my own son, Brian. Nicole gave me Amy's email address. I was really nervous, but I decided to reach out to her. As kind and caring as everyone around me was, I needed someone to talk to who really understood. Amy responded right away, and gave me her phone number in case I ever needed to talk. She was the first angel-mom I had met, and she really helped me through my grief.

A couple of months later, we were both expecting again. We supported each other through the months of worry and anxiety. Once again, tragedy struck, and I lost my second son, Sawyer. Amy was pregnant with her daughter, Gabrielle, and terrified of losing her, but she still stood beside me as I dealt with the loss of Sawyer. All moms deal with grief and fear differently, and I've had some friends who, while pregnant again, pretty much ignored me . . .I think out of an understandable terror that it would happen to them again too. Amy never did. She always helped me, listened, and cared about what I was going through. And even though I'd just lost my second child, I tried to be a good friend to her as well. I encouraged her through her worries and prayed for her and Gaby every day.

Nothing made me happier than the day Gabrielle Nicole was born, a beautiful, healthy baby girl. Amy was still very sensitive to me. She didn't know if she should send pictures, because she didn't want to upset me. I told her that she deserved this happiness, and I would never have wanted anything else for her. How could I wish my unhappiness and grief upon anyone else? She knew this, but she just didn't want to make it harder for me. It didn't. It gave me hope to know that Gaby was a success story. It made me believe that I could try again.

So . . .you're probably wondering where this is all going. Nicole told me that Amy was going to be in town, and asked if Jim and I would come to dinner at her house on October 6! After not being able to go to St. Louis to meet all those other angel-moms, it was so strange and amazing that this was the exact weekend Amy would be in town! We accepted, of course, and I finally met Amy and her daughter Gaby, as well as her and Nicole's mom.

We had a great dinner and shared a lot about our children, Brian, Sawyer, Tyler, and Gaby. There were definitely some tears, but laughter as well, and joy in the birth of Amy's daughter. She encouraged me a lot, and let me know that she supported my choice to try again. It was a wonderful evening, and I am so grateful to have been able to meet her. At the end of the evening, as we said goodbye, she said that she felt a special bond with me because of what we'd been through and hoped that I felt the same. I can't imagine where I'd be without Amy's friendship. She has helped me in so many ways, and I always know that whatever I'm feeling, she will understand. She never tells me how I should be dealing with things, or what I should be feeling, she just listens and she "gets it." I'm so glad we got to meet, and I look forward to our continuing friendship and more children for both of us.

And I have to say a HUGE thank you to Nicole, who has also been there for me through EVERYTHING. I'm really glad she introduced me to her sister, but I'm also glad for her. I value her friendship and presence in my life very highly. when I lost the boys, both times, she was there for me in so many ways. She gave donations for their headstone, she sent cards, she talked to me every day, she called, she wrote me emails . . .but most of all, she cared deeply about me and our children. These two women have been the best kind of friends anyone could ask for.

Nicole, Gabrielle, and Amy

Amy and I

She's BAAAACK . . .

Okay. Not really. I haven't got time for a full blog. Honestly. Work has been really tiring, and on top of that, I had some major dental surgery and lots of blood and swelling and pain and not eating and not sleeping. Oh, and vicodin (which didn't work at ALL) and codeine (which helped a little).

I'm off the painkillers and dealing with life. I want to tell you all about meeting my angel-mom friend, Amy, a couple weekends ago. I also want to tell you about my weekend with my love. So that will follow soon, I promise. At least by this weekend.

Oh, yes, and before you ask . . .the babymaking has begun. I just finished my first period since I went off birth control. So wish us luck and send up lots of prayers for the safety of our future baby-in-the-making. And always remember our boys, our first loves, our guiding stars. We are especially thinking of them during this month of remembrance.

"You cannot catch a child's spirit by running after it; you must sit still and for love it will eventually return."

~Arthur Miller