My husband and I had fun tonight, which is rare, considering the grief we are going through. I have to admit, it felt good to goof around, and I kept thinking that it would make Sawyer and Brian happy to know their Mom and Dad were enjoying life a little bit.

We ate tacos for dinner. I think I had at least 10. No, I'm serious, I really did. I was starving and they were realllllly good! Then we decided to go for a swim in the pool. It was kinda cold at first, because the water temp is about 80, and it was 80 outside, and the sun was down . . .but actually, after about 5 minutes, it wasn't too bad. We started out just laying on the rafts, but ended up being silly and doing "tricks" and splashing around.

Now we're about to go to bed early and watch the season finale of House and "On the Lot," which is kind of interesting (though I wish they'd leave all the crap parts with the host out of it).

All in all, a very good night.

Today is the 8 week anniversary of Sawyer's birth. 8 weeks ago today, he came into this world so quietly, and with so much love, hope, and faith. I still don't understand it at all.

Sometimes days go by where I almost feel "normal" again. A little more like myself, and a little more like there's still life to be had. But the overwhelming grief is just lurking around the corner, and it's only a matter of time before it creeps up on me and I am surrounded by it once again. I feel sometimes, like this evening, like I can't even walk anymore . . .just the sheer energy of putting one foot in front of the other is too much to ask.

I want to close my eyes all of the time and remember my boys. I am constantly trying to escape from the moment and the people I am with . . .just to drift away into those sweet memories.

Tonight we were watching a movie, and I just kept imagining Sawyer in his bouncer, dressed in one of his many cute, sweet outfits, sleeping peacefully under our careful watch.

Instead, I'm left with memories . . .just a few. Too few. I was remembering just a few minutes ago how his dad and I used to read him goodnight stories every night he was in the hospital. Tonight it is raining, like it was during the last days of his life, and it brought it all back to me like it was still happening. I had to resist the urge to go up to the NICU and find him waiting for me there, eyes open, arms moving around, legs kicking. He was too REAL, and too alive, and too strong to be gone. I truly believed that each day, he'd be there waiting for me to come to him, grabbing my hand and holding on with all his might . . .until the day we could bring him home.

Life is so different from the way I imagined it. 14 months ago, I found out I was pregnant with my first child. I was so happy. Everything I ever dreamed of had come true--I was with the man I loved, and we had conceived our dream baby together. Now, two children and two losses later, we still haven't really even begun to process what has happened to us. All we ever wanted was each other and our boys, and that has been taken from us before we even got a chance.

I've tried all my life to be the best person I could be. Ever since I was a child, I had a very strong conscience and sense of right from wrong. I tried to follow my heart, be kind to others, and serve God. I know I haven't led a perfect life, and I know I've made mistakes, but I did what my parents always taught me to do--I can honestly say I tried my best. So why have I ended up here? My children mean everything to me . . .everything . . .and I can never hold them, or kiss them goodnight, or change them, or bathe them, feed them, dress them . . .all of the things so many people take for granted every single day.

I just want them back.

Pray for Me!

As many of you already know, my husband is beginning his CNA training in less than 2 weeks. I am still unemployed at this time.

I have spent my life searching for the right career. While I have enjoyed most of the jobs I have had, I always found something lacking, either in the job or in me. I loved working at the daycare, but after some difficulties in my life and the loss of my sons, I find it impossible to return to that setting. I have been stressing quite a bit about what I am going to do next.
I decided tonight, for no real reason, to visit the webpage of my Alma Mater, Eureka College. I found that they had a position open for Circulation Supervisor at Melick Library there.

Anyone who knows me knows that I love books, I love Eureka College, and I have always wanted to work with college students, but lacked the finances and time to get my doctorate. The job is absolutely perfect for me. It combines everything I really love and everything I have always wanted to do. I would be supervising 10-12 students, managing the online circulation system, as well as assisting in other areas of the library. How much more perfect could this job be? The kicker is that Jim is doing his CNA training and subsequent work experience in Eureka! It really couldn't be more perfect.

I have already sent my resume and cover letter. PLEASE pray that they call me to interview for this job! I just know it is the perfect job for me . . .I feel it. This is the most positive I have felt about anything in my life since Sawyer passed away. We could really use the new start in life.

Update

I saw my doctor last Wednesday and discussed the possibility of trying again with him, and he was adamant that I should. He said he doesn't have a quitter's attitude and neither do I, and he still believes we could be successful. So, after talking for awhile and getting the remainder of my cerclage removed, he referred me to the neonatologist in Peoria that I had been seeing while pregnant with Sawyer.

Dr. Egley, the neonatologist, told me that he didn't know exactly what was going on with me, and that he couldn't even give me any statistics about my success. However, he said if he had to make a bet, he would still bet on my side. He said personally he has a very good feeling/vibe about my chances, but he knows that's no guarantee and shouldn't be the deciding factor for me trying again. When I said how Jim and I feel, which is that we do want to try, he said that we definitely should then. He said if I was his own daughter asking for his advice, he would tell me to give it at least one more all-out try.

So . . .long story short, I have been referred by him to a specialist at the University of Chicago Medical Center to have a transabdominal cerclage with my next pregnancy. He told me this will be permanent and my baby will have to be delivered C-section. The chances of infection occuring are much slimmer, and the chances of me carrying the baby longer are much better.

I thought I would fill everyone in on where we are at. We are going to try again, but we are going to take a break first to try to get ourselves "back on our feet," both emotionally and financially. I thank God that there is still some hope for us.

My husband drew this for me for Mother's Day. It is an image of us, obviously, and the kites in the sky represent Brian and Sawyer.

My cousin, Carrie, made this for me for Mother's Day. She drew the picture based on the photograph below of me holding Sawyer's hand a few hours after he was born.

Strange . . .

I just went out for a drive, and guess what song played? "Imagine" by John Lennon. How strange is that? I knew it was the boys sending me their love, and so I told them how much I loved them back.

I realized, too, that I need to go easier on people. A lot of people don't behave the way I would like them to--it's true. They don't give me the things I feel like I need to grieve for my children. Sometimes they act downright ridiculous to try to keep me from being hurt. They tiptoe around, telling lies (or mild untruths) to try to "protect" me. However, I think many people aren't accustomed to dealing with the death of children, so they aren't sure how to handle it. Some people are able to follow my lead, or they have a certain level of emotional depth and can handle the situation better than others. If I want to educate people, I need to do it gently, and with compassion. After all, I might not have known how to treat people who have lost children had I not lost my own. I deleted a blog from earlier, one which was filled with my bitterness and anger towards these people. I got some good responses, which I really do appreciate. But I decided in the end that if I hold on to the feelings of frustration and anger that I have towards these people, I am only hurting myself and I'm not helping them to learn how to behave in this situation.

So . . .I'm going to try to live the way I've always tried to live, by forgiving and trying to help others. I feel like that's what the boys were reminding me of by sending me this song.

Imagine
by John Lennon

Imagine there's no heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today

Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace

You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world

You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one

Some poems for Mother's Day . . .

The Mention of my Child

The mention of my child's name may bring

tears to my eyes,

but it never fails to bring

music to my ears.

If you are really my friend,

let me hear the beautiful

music of his name.

It soothes my broken heart

and sings to my soul.

~Author Unknown~

The Elephant in the Room

There's an elephant in the room.

It is large and squatting, so it is hard to get around it.

Yet, we squeeze by with, "How are you?" and "I'm fine"....

And a thousand other forms of trivial chatter.

We talk about the weather.

We talk about work.

We talk about everything -- except the elephant in the room.

We all know it is there.

We are thinking about the elephant as we talk.

It is constantly on our minds,

For you see, it is a very big elephant.

But we do not talk about the elephant in the room.

Oh, please, say his name.

Oh, please, say it again.

Oh, please, let's talk about the elephant in the room.

For if we talk about his death,

Perhaps we can talk about his life.

Can I say his name and not have you look away?

For if I cannot, you are leaving me

Alone... in a room... With an elephant.

~Terry Kettering~

If we could have a lifetime wish

A dream that would come true,

We'd pray to God with all our hearts

For yesterday and You.

A thousand words can't bring you back

We know because we've tried...

Neither will a thousand tears

We know because we've cried...

You left behind our broken hearts

And happy memories too...

But we never wanted memories

We only wanted You.

Same Old Story

I think people must be getting sick of reading my blogs, but I'm going to write them anyway, even if it's just for me. It helps me gather my thoughts and work things out.

After Brian died, I was devastated, obviously. The tears came almost constantly. However, I thought that I had come to some peace about it because of what I believed he taught us. He taught us about my incompetent cervix so that we knew for the future what to do to prevent another premature birth. He made it possible for us to try again.

Now that Sawyer has died too, I don't understand any of it. Brian's death hurts more than it ever did, and Sawyer's death is so unfair I can't even comprehend it. I am so angry right now. I don't know where to turn. After Brian died, we moved right on ahead with our plans for a family, and I had conceived Sawyer within 12 weeks. Now we're talking about birth control, and even though I know it's what I have to do, I don't want to. The emotional part of me wants to try again right away. I just want to have ONE child to love here on earth with me. It doesn't change or lessen my love for my two boys. I will always love them with all my heart. I just can't see them, or hear them cry, or change them, or hold them, or sing to them, or physically be with them. I don't feel like I have much of a choice about trying again right now . . .logically I know this. But emotionally, I just can't stand the thought of starting birth control. I waited and waited and waited to have my babies, and now here I am, 32 years old with two in Heaven. Taking birth control feels like resignation to me.

I started my period today. What a nice reminder, just before Mother's Day, that I am no longer pregnant, as I should be, and that my boys are gone. I started crying when I saw it. It hurt after Brian died too.

There is no resolution to this blog. Just random thoughts. I want to rage and cry and scream, but I can't do that here, and there's no point anyway, is there? So I just blankly float through the days. I sleep a lot, because it's a way to escape the world. The rest of the time, I feel empty most of the time, and sad or angry the rest, when I allow myself to. I hate the world outside of my own little set of rooms. It's filled with happiness and joy that I am afraid I will never have. Instead, I'm left with a broken heart that no one, no matter how hard they try, could ever fix.

More song lyrics . . . for Brian and Sawyer . . .

Time Has Told Me

Time has told me
You're a rare, rare find
A troubled cure
For a troubled mind.

And time has told me
Not to ask for more
Someday our ocean
Will find its shore.

So I’ll leave the ways that are making me be
What I really don't want to be
Leave the ways that are making me love
What I really don't want to love.

Time has told me
You came with the dawn
A soul with no footprint
A rose with no thorn.

Your tears they tell me
There's really no way
Of ending your troubles
With things you can say.

And time will tell you
To stay by my side
To keep on trying
'til there's no more to hide.

So leave the ways that are making you be
What you really don't want to be
Leave the ways that are making you love
What you really don't want to love.

Time has told me
You're a rare, rare find
A troubled cure
For a troubled mind.

And time has told me
Not to ask for more
For some day our ocean
Will find its shore.

Beautiful Boys

Yesterday I went and looked at the clothes again. I took out the "Little Hero" outfit and held it for awhile. Even the fact that it said "6 Months" on the tag broke my heart . . .he should have been wearing it when he was that age. I felt like such a source of pain and disappointment to my mother, who bought all of those things . . .even though I know she doesn't feel that way, it still made me feel that way. I wish I could have made my mom and dad's dreams come true for their grandson, I wish I could have made Jim's parents' dreams come true, I wish I could have made our brothers' and sisters' dreams come true . . .mostly I wish I could have made Jim's come true for his second son. He cried the other night and while he was holding me tight, he said, "I wanted you to have our boys so badly, I just wish they could have stayed." I feel like my body has betrayed me and I've failed everyone, including myself. I keep getting angry at the wrong people, mostly Jim, because he's the only person I can be honest about my emotions with. I paste on a fake smile most of the time, because that's what the world seems to expect, and I go about my business . . .but with him, that anger seems to burst forth at the tiniest thing. I love him so much. He is my hero, along with Brian and Sawyer, and I promised him tonight that I would try really hard to find a more positive way to deal with my anger . . .even if it's with him, I won't take it out on him, I will just tell him about it.

We sat and listened to music and watched our Sawyer videos and looked at his pictures and cried for awhile. Then I got the idea to take Jim up to the parking garage, so at about 11:15 pm, we went. When we got there, I said I wanted to turn off the CD that was on and try the radio to see if there was any significant song playing. I know, it sounds silly, but last time I went, I felt like there was a connection with the boys happening, and the song on the radio made that feeling stronger. So we switched off the CD and I flipped through the 5 radio stations that are programmed in the car. There were commercials on the first 4, and then . . .lo and behold . . .the fifth station was playing "Imagine" by John Lennon. For those of you who don't know us as well, he is our favorite singer, and that is our all-time favorite song. We played it for Sawyer all the time when I was carrying him. It was really unbelievable to us that it just happened to be playing as we drove up the ramps to the top level.

At the top, we just sat and talked to the boys for about 1/2 hour. We cried with them, and told them how proud we were of them, and how we never, ever gave up on them, and we never will. We promised we would never forget them, and asked them to let us know they were okay . . .just every once in awhile, remind us that they're safe and loved and happy. We told them to watch over us while we were apart from them, and told them how close we would always be to them, no matter what distance separated us. We reminded them to take care of each other, and mostly just told them over and over how proud we are that they are our sons. We love them no matter who they are or where they are.

This song is for my three beautiful boys . . .Jim, Brian, and Sawyer. I love them with all my heart, and they are my whole world. Without them, I would be nothing.

Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy)
by John Lennon

Close your eyes,

Have no fear,

The monster's gone,

He's on the run and your daddy's here.

Beautiful,

Beautiful, beautiful,

Beautiful Boy.

Before you go to sleep,
Say a little prayer,

Every day in every way,

It's getting better and better.

Beautiful,

Beautiful, beautiful,

Beautiful Boy.

Out on the ocean sailing away,

I can hardly wait

To see you to come of age,

But I guess we'll both

Just have to be patient.

Cause it's a long way to go,

A hard row to hoe

Yes it's a long way to go

But in the meantime,

Before you cross the street,

Take my hand,

Life is what happens to you,

While you're busy making other plans,

Beautiful,

Beautiful, beautiful,

Beautiful Boy.

Darling,

Darling,

Darling,

Darling Jim and Brian and Sawyer . . .

Well, I asked for it. I went downstairs to the closet where I knew my mom was keeping all the outfits she had bought for Sawyer. There were probably 25 outfits in there, all so cute, and all bought with Sawyer in mind. I just stared at them, picturing him wearing them. There were even a couple of Christmas outfits. One of them had a fire engine on one side, and on the other a little dog in a firehat, and said "Little Hero." That's Sawyer, isn't it? He really is a little hero. I just wish so badly I could have seen him wear that outfit and be happy and healthy. I wish I'd been able to dress him in all those outfits. I know my mom really believed that he would wear them, and so did I.

I would do anything to get him back.

Memorial Service

Well, we just returned from an Ecumenical Memorial Service that the hospital has for parents who have lost children. It was at Luthy Botanical Garden in Peoria. It was a really beautiful setting for such a beautiful ceremony. There were 3 readings remembering children who passed away recently (2 were Brian and Sawyer), with songs between each one. All of the songs were performed live by a man who played guitar and sang. His wife is a nurse at the NICU. The readings were done by nurses that we requested. Our choices were Emma and Sandy, two nurses who took particularly good care of Sawyer, and to whom we still feel very close. We saw Sawyer's doctor as well, Dr. Susan Ramiro, who came and hugged us right away. She read the names of deceased children when we went outside to bless a butterfly bench that was created for the memorial garden at St. Francis. It is being hosted for the time being in the Children's Garden at Luthy Botanical Gardens, until the new NICU is finished at St. Francis and the memorial garden is set up there. The bench is really cool--very different from what I would have expected, and very much with a child's spirit in mind. After the blessing, there was an amazing butterfly release in honor and memory of our children, who will always be with us.

Dr. Ramiro

Just seeing Emma, Sandy, and Dr. Ramiro started us crying from the time we arrived. They sat and talked to us for a long time, and remembered Sawyer with us. They really miss him, too, and his death has been hard on them. They are really amazing women who have made such a difference in so many lives.

Sandy (left) and Emma

It was a very good day, and we're so glad we were able to go. My mom and dad and sister-in-law Sarah joined us, and they too had a very nice experience. It offered closure, as well as a release for our sorrow and a feeling of hope for the future. Butterflies were the theme, and the woman in charge spoke of how when a butterfly leaves behind the cocoon and flies away, they are not really dying, just becoming something even more beautiful and free . . .just like our children.

Even in my sorrow, I feel special, for I know the true meaning of the word mother. I have reached the ultimate, from the joy of birth to the sorrow of death. I belong to a special group who truly know the meaning of the word mother.

Would I have not accepted the gift if I had known the terrible loss I would feel by having it taken from me? I would still hold out my hands and accept such a precious gift, for to love and to cherish, even for a short while, is worth every tear.

This year on Mothers Day, I'll shed my tears, but let them be as a soft summer's rain. A rain that nourishes the earth, tears that heal and cleanse my heart.

All the work to create this baby,
Summoning his soul from who knows where,
All to end as ashes in a little box.
I cannot stand the endless goneness of him.

-Claudia Putnam

I have been a little upset about Mother's Day coming up. It's hard because I want people to remember that I am still a mother, even if my babies aren't with me. I recently received this poem from a friend who has lost two babies, and it really meant a lot to me. It reminded me that my children are with me, no matter what, and no one can change that. It is still a special day for those who have lost children. I am sending this to you because it's a difficult time and I want to be honest and share my feelings. Sometimes people don't know what to do or say, so they don't say anything. For me, I enjoy talking about my boys and am very grateful when they are mentioned. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this as I did!

Dandelions From Heaven

Mothers Day is coming, and I wanted to send you a sign;

Something you can tell others "Is from an angel of mine."

So I searched the Heavens high and low for that perfect thing,

And lo and behold I found it....and a smile I hope it will bring.

So when you look to the Heavens, and see the yellow stars in the sky,

Just think of me...your angel... in the Heavens way up high.

And just imagine those stars are dandelions up above

Yes! Dandelions are also in Heaven,which you know how much I love.

So on this Mothers Day when you awake and feel blue,

You will notice those yellow stars are no longer in view.

So just look to the meadows and the dandelions you see

Are the ones I've tossed down this Mothers Day from me!

And when you find a dandelion that has turned from yellow to white

You're supposed to make a wish, and then blow with all your might.

For you will be blowing kisses to me in Heaven above,

And I will be catching them and blowing them back, sent with all my love.

Please know that I am with you on this Mothers Day.

And also in the days ahead, God and I will never stray.

We will be with you in the morning when you wake and see the sun;

We will be with you when you say your prayers when the day is done.

God and I will never be very far from your side,

For I can now be everywhere, and God will be your guide.

So remember when you see dandelions, it's your guarantee

For dandelions are free to roam now just like me.

I will always be with you Mom....

Happy Mothers Day

Love,

Your Angel in Heaven.

Copyright © May 2001

by Laura/Heavenly Lights Children's Memorial

So . . .I'm Back . . .

I ended up driving up to the parking garage. It's funny . . .it's only 7 stories high, but somehow you feel like you're part of the heavens . . .it feels so far above the river and the roads below. I had a talk with Sawyer and Brian. I know Brian was never there, but he's with Sawyer now, and I could feel their spirits close to my heart. I know they could hear me. I miss them so bad. The world is emptier without them in it.

Weirdly, I had my radio on an oldies station, and the Guess Who song "These Eyes" came on as I was driving up the ramps to the top of the garage. I started listening to the lyrics, and it's so strange, they really struck me. It's kind of a corny old song, but the words hit home tonight.

These Eyes

These eyes cry every night for you.

These arms long to hold you again.

The hurtin's on me,

But I will never be free.

You gave a promise to me and you broke it, you broke it.

These eyes watched you bring my world to an end.

This heart could not accept and pretend.

The hurtin's on me,

But I will never be free.

You took the vow with me.

You spoke it, you spoke it, babe.

These eyes are cryin'

These eyes have seen a lot of loves

But they're never gonna see another one like I had with you.

These eyes are cryin'

These eyes have seen a lot of loves

But they're never gonna see another one like I had with you.

These eyes are cryin'

These eyes have seen a lot of loves

But they're never gonna see another one like I had with you.

These eyes cry every night for you.

These arms, these arms long to hold you, hold you again.

These eyes are cryin'

These eyes have seen a lot of loves

But they're never gonna see another one like I had with you.

These eyes are cryin'

These eyes have seen a lot of loves

But they're never gonna see another one like I had with you.

Deja Vu

You know when a certain smell or atmosphere brings you back to a certain place in your life? You almost feel exactly the same as you did then. Well, that's happening to me tonight.

Every time we went to see Sawyer, at 7:00 p.m. and 11:00 p.m. they had 45 minute periods where we weren't allowed to be in the NICU. They changed shifts and did reports. When it was time to go, Jim and I would ride up the glass elevator to the top level of the parking lot, where we had parked our car, and sit overlooking the Illinois River, talking about Sawyer and looking out at the stars. It was really beautiful, and it was a lovely, excited feeling of hope and joy about our son. We honestly felt like he was going to make it . . .he was so strong and full of life. We'd just sit and watch the sky, sometimes listen to music . . .we would often take in the CD we were listening to and play Sawyer a song.

Tonight, the weather and the smell in the air brought me right back to those nights. I almost feel like getting in my car and going up to the top level of the parking deck at OSF. In fact, I might just do so. Somehow I feel like I'd be closer to him for a moment.

One evening, just at dusk, we saw two hawks circling just over the NICU. We thought they must be sent from Heaven to watch over our boy. I'd like to see them again, circling through the dim stars in the dull twilight. I'd feel like Sawyer was watching me, telling me it was okay, and that he was with Brian.

Acknowledgement

American Heritage Dictionary: Recognition of another's existence, validity, authority, or right.

Dictionary.com Unabridged: recognition of the existence or truth of something.

Wordnet: a statement acknowledging something or someone.

I'm tired of people not acknowledging my children. When I say THANK YOU . . .thank you for mentioning what happened, thank you for calling them by name, thank you for admitting that they were once here . . .I mean that. I'm tired of some people in my life, people who are supposed to love me, not acknowledging the existence of my sons. When people don't ever mention them, it's like pretending they weren't valid or important enough to admit they were ever even here. When people refer to them as "your babies," it's like they can't admit that my children have names and are real, genuine people, just like everybody else.

The first day Jim returned to work after Sawyer's funeral, a woman said to him, "Come on, smile! It can't be that bad!" And she knew what had happened! She had sent a card of her own and signed a card at work! It can be that bad!

For Jim and I, what happened to Sawyer is still very strongly present every day in our minds. Last night I spent hours thinking about his baby registries, how I picked out everything just for him. I thought about the NICU, and the feelings of hope I had when he was there. I just knew he was going to make it! I joked around that when he was older, he might be a little ornery and spoiled, but how could we help it when he had been so strong and struggled against such odds? I think about sitting in the family room, snacking on crackers, waiting for the shift change to be over. I think about the little lockers they had to lock your stuff up for the day. I should still be there right now!! I should still be going to visit him, and to provide nourishment for him.

For other peope who were there, who were a part of it, it's like it never happened. Maybe a dream, or some distant recollection they have. I can't believe it! Though, as I told Jim, can I really be surprised? The same thing happened after Brian died.

If you ever start to think that you're sparing someone pain by not acknowleding their loved one, or some other stupid cliche like that, STOP! It's sad that I get support and love every single day from people I have never even met, but nothing from some of the people who actually met Sawyer, who came to see him, and who knew him and loved him. How could they hold his hand and not remember what that felt like?

For those of you reading this . . .you aren't the ones I'm talking about, obviously. So I will tell you again, and I will keep saying it: Thank you. Thank you for acknowledging the existence of my sons upon this earth, and the importance of their lives.

I have been thinking lately that if people would just stop worrying about vain things . . .how skinny or tan they are, what kind of shoes or clothes are the "coolest," how much jewelry they have to show off to the world . . .maybe they would be real, just for one moment. Maybe they would feel things as deeply and be impacted as profoundly as I have been, not only by my own grief, but the grief and tragedy of others as well.

Probably not.

What Makes a Mother?

I thought of you and closed my eyes
And prayed to God today
I asked "What makes a Mother?"
And I know I heard Him say:

"A Mother has a baby"
This we know is true
"But God, can you be a Mother,
When your baby's not with you?"

"Yes, you can," He replied
With confidence in His voice
"I give many women babies,
When they leave is not their choice.

Some I send for a lifetime,
And others for the day.
And some I send to feel your womb,
But there's no need to stay."

"I just don't understand this God
I want my baby here."
He took a deep breath and cleared His throat,
And then I saw the tear.

"I wish that I could show you,
What your child is doing today.
If you could see your child smile,
With all the other children and say...

'We go to Earth to learn our lessons,
Of love and life and fear.
My Mommy loved me oh so much,
I got to come straight here.

I feel so lucky to have a Mom,
Who had so much love for me.
I learned my lessons very quick,
My Mommy set me free.

I miss my Mommy oh so much,
But I visit her every day.
When she goes to sleep,
On her pillow's where I lay

I stroke her hair and kiss her cheek,
And whisper in her ear.
Mommy don't be sad today,
I'm your baby and I'm here.'

"So you see my dear sweet ones,
Your children are okay.
Your babies are born here in My home,
And this is where they'll stay.

They'll wait for you with Me,
Until your lesson's through.
And on the day that you come home
They'll be at the gates for you.

So now you see what makes a Mother,
It's the feeling in your heart
It's the love you had so much of
Right from the very start.

Though some on earth may not realize,
Until their time is done.
They'll be up here with Me one day
And know that you're the best mom!"

~Author Unknown

Our NICU Story

Every day in the NICU, I looked at the success collages on the wall, and dreamed of the day when we would make ours. I wanted SO BADLY to have a picture of the day he went home, then a picture of him at 1 year, 2 years, and so on. Instead, ours is one of the few collages where the baby didn't make it.

I suppose in many ways it is a success. I know we had 11 days with him. I still wanted it to be a lot longer. Anyway, here it is. It's a photo of photos, so it may not be that easy to see, but you can get the general idea. We took it in tonight, and shared tears with the nurses who cared for him. My parents are also providing coffee, tea, and hot chocolate to the families in the family waiting room, which I think is really nice. It was hard to go in, but actually, I expected to find him there . . .and what I found was a lot different than what I had thought. It felt like the life and spirit was gone. I'm sure every parent feels the same exact way, but when Sawyer was there, it seemed like home. It felt exciting and warm and alive. Now it just feels clinical, like a hospital, and not at all where we belong.

We are still so proud of Sawyer, and his collage will soon be hanging on the wall where it belongs, with all the other little fighters who have been through the NICU experience.

Jim wrote the message you can see in the collage. It was read at Sawyer's funeral, and we sent it to the NICU staff. Here is what it says:

The love of a parent is about doing anything you can for your child. But not all parents are medical professionals, and moms and dads need to sleep sometimes. The staff of the NICU are more than just nurses and doctors, they are the missing pieces: all the things a parents would be if they could.

From the moment he was conceived, we aimed to be the very best parents we could for Sawyer. We gave him all we could. The NICU staff provided those things we simply could not. They were our ears, listening for alarms in the night, and our eyes watching as he, and we slept. They were our hands, changing him, giving him the medicine he needed, moving him to ensure he was as comfortable as possible. And they made sure there was not a moment our boy did not know he was loved.

We want to thank them so very much for everything they did for Sawyer. Their efforts are part of our solace - knowing that his every ounce of fight was matched in equal measure by the doggedness, expertise and ingenuity of those caring for him.

Purell and Other Considerations

We bought a bottle of Purell. Every time we went to visit Sawyer, we had to "scrub in" for 2 minutes (had to set a timer and use scrub-brushes and everything!) and then put Purell on our hands. Our son smelled like Purell because everything that touched him was covered in it. We bought it so we could smell it and smell him. It is crazy how much the alcoholy smell of it makes me see him so clearly and long for him so much.

Last night I stared at his picture for about half an hour. I realized again how beautiful he was. Brian was too, but I never got to watch him move and cry and open his eyes to look at me. I miss them both so badly. I stared at his face and wanted to get in the car, drive to the NICU, and sit with him more strongly than I ever have so far. It still feels to me like he should be there waiting for me, kicking his little legs and covering his tiny ears to block out the sounds of the beeping monitors.

I don't know where to go from here. Since February of 2006, my life has been about being a mother. Everything I have done was for my boys. I had surgery, I took off work, I bought everything a baby boy might need . . .and now I'm left with memories and nothing more. I get emails every day from baby resources--I had subscribed to all kinds of newsletters. I have to delete them . . .you're 26 weeks today! You're 27 weeks today! You're 28 weeks today! No . . .actually, I'm not pregnant, and my sons are both gone. So what can I do? I have no career aspirations, no goals, nothing. I have Jim. We want to get a house, but even that brings pain, because we wanted to buy a house for us and our boys. Now I just have emptiness and blankness and no purpose that I can think of. Other people try to suggest to me what I should or shouldn't be doing . . .try to help me with goals for the future. The only goal I had was to be a good mother for my boys. I would do anything to have them back again. Literally anything. I did everything I could to get them here, but it wasn't enough. I know it wasn't "my fault," but it was my body that failed them, so I can't help but feel like a failure. It feels like everyone is staring at me all the time. I've even had people ask me what I could have done to prevent this . . .as if I didn't do EVERYTHING in my power . . .and tell me that I can't have more kids because other people have gone through enough pain over our attempts to bring our children into this world. How's that for sensitivity?

So now I just wait for something new. I'll let you know when I figure out what it is.

We ordered Brian and Sawyer's headstone today. It is really simple and beautiful. We think it's perfect. We will scan the plan for it and post it later.

With Hope

This is not at all how we thought it was supposed to be
We had so many plans for you we had so many dreams
And now you've gone away
And left us with the memories of your smile
And nothing we can say and nothing we can do
Can take away the pain the pain of losing you, but ...

We can cry with hope
We can say goodbye with hope
'Cause we know our goodbye is not the end, oh no
And we can grieve with hope
'Cause we believe with hope
(There's a place by God's grace)
There's a place where we'll see your face again
We'll see your face again

And never have I known anything so hard to understand
And never have I questioned more the wisdom of God's plan
But through the cloud of tears I see the Father's smile and say well done
And I imagine you where you wanted most to be
Seeing all your dreams come true
'Cause now you're home And now you're free, and ...
We have this hope as an anchor
'Cause we believe that everything God promised us is true, so ...

We wait with hope
And we ache with hope
We hold on with hope
We let go with hope

~S. Chapman

Surprising

It's surprising to me how many people have reached out to us. Especially since some of the people who are the closest to us haven't said a word about Sawyer . . .not sorry, not we loved him, nothing. I know they did love him, and it's probably because it's hard for them that they aren't speaking . . . but they have no idea how much it would mean to Jim and I to hear that they are missing our son. That's why it's so incredible how many people have reached out to us with loving arms, people we've never even met, to tell us how sorry they are and how much Sawyer inspired them. I also find myself thinking of Brian too, and hoping that he isn't forgotten. They are both our boys, and both equally loved.

Thanks to all of you for reaching out. It means more than you could ever know.

Sadness

Well, this sucks. It really does. I thought it was hard the first time I had to come home to an empty nursery, but this time it's even worse. Brian's death, to me, only made sense when I thought he was teaching us for next time. Now neither one makes sense and I have no direction. Every single thing reminds me of Sawyer . . .the stuff in the fridge that we bought because I wasn't supposed to be up for long periods of time when I was pregnant, so we got all kinds of snacky type stuff, microwave meals, and toaster waffles, stuff like that. All of his outfits . . .I keep thinking of them all the time, of him wearing them, of how hopeful we were when we picked them out. It feels like everywhere I go lately I see a dad with his 2 boys . . .that's the way things should be for us. People tell you not to get down or feel sorry for yourself, but I can't help it. I think I deserve to feel sorry for myself and my husband and all of our family. We needed Sawyer really badly, and even though I know he's okay, we're not. I miss him really, really bad.

I even miss going to the NICU. I started crying last night because I was eating Oreos and I remembered they had Oreo snack sticks in the NICU family room snack machine, and I was going to try them one day. I miss calling in the middle of the night to check up on him and make sure he's ok. I miss all the nurses and his doctors. But mostly, I miss him. I miss holding his hand, watching him wiggle, seeing his eyes open when I called to him. Every time we left, Jim and I gave him kisses to hold in the palm of his hand, so that if he got scared, he could just close his fist and feel our love. I miss doing that too.

People keep asking us where we're going from here . . .are we going to try again? Well, I don't know the answer to that. If we do try again, it will be years from now. I can't go through the loss (or even worry of loss) of another child. We are considering adoption in the future, but again, that will be at least a year or more. We had decided, after Sawyer was born, that we were not going to have any more of our own . . .he was enough. Now we don't know what we're going to do. We're not ready to stop thinking about our boys, and we're not emotionally able to move on yet. I'm also not going back to the daycare. How can I take care of other people's children when I can't even see my own? It breaks my heart.

I just keep cleaning the house. That's all I can think to do. Stay busy. I have gone over 48 hour stretches without sleep, then crash, then work some more. I have carried furniture by myself down 2 stories to the basment, moved around furniture . . .etc. That's aside from all the cleaning. I have converted the nursery into a craft/music/library room . . .along with memories of the 2 boys. It looks nice, but it still isn't the same without a crib and changing table and a baby to love.

They Don't Understand

A friend of mine, Mary Ann, recently told me about this song, which describes perfectly the way I've been feeling about the world lately. Strangely enough, it's by Sawyer Brown . . .and for those of you who don't know, Brown is my maiden name, so people always said they thought of Sawyer Brown when they thought of our son. Anyway, the words are so true and go along with what I said about treating people with more compassion and kindess every day, because you never know what they're going through.

They Don't Understand

by Sawyer Brown

A mother riding on a city bus

Kids are yelling kicking up a fuss

Everybody's staring not knowing what she's going through

Somebody said don't you even care?

Do you let 'em do that everywhere?

She slowly turned around, looked up and stared

She said Please forgive them

But they've been up all night

Their father struggled but he finally lost his fight

He went to heaven

In the middle of the night

So please forgive my children

(They don't understand)

Everybody's busy with their own situation

Everybody's lost in their own little world

Bottled up, hurry it up trying to make a dream come true

(They don't understand)

Everybody's living like there ain't no tomorrow

Maybe we should stop and take a little time

Cause you never really know what your neighbor's going through

(They don't understand)

A man driving on the interstate

Slowing down traffic making everybody late

Everybody's staring not knowing what he's going through

Somebody honked from the passing lane

Yellin' out the window, I ain't got all day

The old man looked around and he caught his eye

He said please forgive me

You know it's been a long life

My wife has passed away and my kids don't have the time

I've been left all alone

And its getting hard to drive

So please forgive me children

(They don't understand)
Everybody's busy with their own situation
Everybody's lost in their own little world
Bottled up, hurry it up trying to make a dream come true
(They don't understand)
Everybody's living like there ain't no tomorrow
Maybe we should stop and take a little time
Cause you never really know what your neighbor's going through
(They don't understand)

A man hanging on a wooden cross

Giving everything to save the lost

Everybody's starin' not knowin' what he's going through

Somebody said you don't have a prayer

If you were king, come down from there

The man just turned his head looked up and stared

He said please forgive them

For they have not seen the light

They'll come to know me when I come back to life

Go to heaven, to make everything all right

So please forgive your children

(They don't understand)

Everybody's busy with their own situation
Everybody's lost in their own little world
Bottled up, hurry it up trying to make a dream come true
(They don't understand)
Everybody's living like there ain't no tomorrow
Maybe we should stop and take a little time
Cause you never really know what your neighbor's going through
(They don't understand)

A mother riding on a city bus

Kids are yelling kicking up a fuss

Everybody's staring not knowing what she's going through

You can light a memorial candle for Sawyer James at http://rememberedbyus.com/SawyerRennie.

Thank you.

We really, really miss our babies.

We don't know where to go from here.

We were living every day for seeing Sawyer . . .after losing Brian, we never thought we'd lose him too.

If everyone would live by imagining that something had just happened in the lives of the people they encounter, the world would be a better place. Today, Jim and I were driving to Pekin. He went to turn from Springfield Road onto Broadway, and paused for about 5 seconds more than usual to make sure no oncoming traffic was approaching. He was just trying to be careful, aside from the fact that our minds were elsewhere, as we'd just been talking about losing our son. A man waiting for us to turn honked at us, threw his arms up, obviously cussed at us, and gave us the finger. We were on our way to buy a dress for me to wear to Sawyer's funeral. I could not believe that someone would treat us in that way for something so stupid and silly as waiting an extra 5-10 seconds to cross the street. I know he didn't realize that we were going through pain . . .but what if he assumed we might be? What if we all went through life treating people with care and tenderness? What if we just assumed that people might be hurting and shouldn't be treated like crap for no reason?

Also, Jim and I have been getting so sick and tired of all the meaningless, ridiculous stuff people complain about . . .the price of gas, the way they had to wait in line at WalMart, their weight, their new haircut. I just don't get it anymore. I know I used to be that way, but after what we've been through, we can't do that anymore. We know what it's like to truly experience real grief and pain, and the little things don't seem so important anymore. Who cares if you're fat or thin in the face of losing your child?

I don't know. I just wanted to share these ideas tonight. Treat people with kindness. Don't sweat the small stuff. Don't freak out because someone is driving too slow, or you get cut off in traffic. Don't complain about stupid stuff. Just cherish life and the people you love, because you won't have them forever.

That's all.

Just wanted to post a message regarding Sawyer to let you all know that you can view his obituary at www.davismortuaryinc.com. For those of you who have sent emails, cards, flowers, and guestbook messages, thank you. We will be in touch soon, but for now, just know how much you have all meant to us.

Amy, Jim, Brian, and Sawyer

For everyone's information: Sawyer's funeral will be at 10:30 a.m. this coming Saturday, April 14 at Tremont Baptist Church. We will be receiving friends starting at 9:30. You are all invited and welcome to attend. Thank you all for your prayers and love for Sawyer. It has all meant more than we can say. Our only comfort is that he is with his brother now, and they can play together forever.

Our Angel

Sawyer James Rennie left us at 4:47 this morning. They took him off the machines at 3:00 due to organ failure. There was nothing else they could try. He opened his eyes to say goodbye to us as we held him. He struggle valiantly, so long and so hard, but in the end, his little body just could not take anymore. He let us know when he was ready to go be with his big brother. The grief is indescribable and something I can't possibly try to capture here, especially right now, but the love he had was more than we could ever have imagined.

Sawyer is fighting for his life tonight. He had to have a surgery today to reinsert part of his intestines that had protruded from the drain in his side. Then he had to have an iv line started, as well as a "pick line." This goes up his arm and into his chest. He will have to have surgery sometime in the next couple of days to see what is happening in his tummy.

His blood pressure is dangerously low again. His kidneys are not producing urine again. His swelling has not gone down--in fact, it is worse than ever before.

People have commented that they are amazed by how strong we have been through this. We are feeling weak tonight. We cannot leave our baby boy--we are on our way back to spend the night with him. We are very worried and it is devastating to watch your newborn baby suffer through all of this.

PLEASE PRAY TONIGHT! Sawyer needs our help.

Love,
Amy, Jim, Brian, and Sawyer

Well, it was a long day today, and full of worry, but as always, full of joy as well. We know that every single day with our son is a day of beauty and a miracle of God. We are so lucky to have such an amazing child, and we love him with all our hearts. It is difficult for us to watch him struggle, but we are determined to fight with him for his life, as long as he still has a fight in him . . .which we hope will be for a very, very long time. The whole family wishes they could take his place, but unfortunately, we can't. It is harrowing, but we are trying to give him to God and allow Him to be in control and heal Sawyer, day by day.

Sawyer is stable. He is not out of the woods yet, not by far. He is a very sick little boy--as the doctors say, he is still critically ill. However, they also keep telling us he is holding his own and fighting hard.

The goal now is to get him to remain stable, keep urinating, and get rid of all the fluid his body has retained. We already think he looks far less swollen, so that is a good thing. If they can get rid of that fluid, they will be able to put in his permanent line for medications and fluids. It's a critical time, because they need to get that put in!!! So please pray that he continues to get rid of the fluid in his body. They can also do surgery on him if they need to for his intestines.

Also, continue to pray for his perforated intestines. They do not know, and will not know for some time, the extent of the damage. However, the nurse practitioner told us tonight that he is not showing a high level of acid in his blood, which is one way they can tell there is a lot of damage--so again, this is a good sign.

It is scary, because the doctors often seem grim and offer very little hope. But we have faced those same conversations almost daily for 11 days now! I can't count how many times we have been prepared that he might not make it through the day. This shows us what a strong fighter our boy is. Everyone involved in his care has said how much he has surprised everyone. Keep praying that he will continue to surprise them and pull through this.

Also, every time Sawyer faces one of these trials, his brain could be affected. They do not know one way or the other. Only time will tell. Please pray that his brain will continue to develop normally and will not suffer for this trauma.

Oh--this evening he managed to extubate himself! He got his oxygen tube out--very, very scary sounding to mom and dad, but actually the nurses said he was fine and it wasn't a big deal. They managed to get some very handsome pictures of him after they re-intubated him, so we will scan them and blog them tomorrow.

Pray for Jim, because he has to keep working so that we will have money for Sawyer when he comes home. It is very hard on him, because he wants so badly to be with Sawyer, and it is awful to have to be at work instead. Then, by the time he gets home, he is exhausted and has to fight it to go be with Sawyer. Pray for me, also, because I have to face the doctors every morning without Jim, and hear the news myself. Thankfully, my mom is able to be with me if Jim is not, but it is still hard that he can't be there too.

Finally, a final prayer request is for the Monti family. A friend of mine from high school, Jennifer Monti, passed away this afternoon. She has been fighting for her life for many weeks in the same hospital where Sawyer is. She had gone in for a lung surgery, but her body suffered setback after setback, and finally she lost her earthly battle. Praise God her spiritual battle was won and she will never feel pain again. Please pray for her family--her parents, Mike and Sharon Whisenand, her brother Anthony, and her husband, Jon Monti. They need a lot of lifting up. Jennifer was only 32 years old.

Thank you all.


Love,
Jim, Amy, Brian, and Sawyer

Grandma and Grandpa Brown looking at Sawyer

Holding Daddy's wedding band

After surgery--we got a closer look while the cover was off his isolette

Well . . .we have bad news and good news, as usual.

This morning we rushed to the hospital to meet with the surgeons. Sawyer's intestine has perforated. We were given the option of "letting him go." We were told that his chances of surviving exploratory surgery to see the extent of the damage were slim to none. However, were were also given the option of having the surgeon put in a drain to see if they could get rid of the fluid, buy him some more time to see if he remains stable enough to do potential surgery, and see if this shows the extent of the damage as well. If his intestinal perforation is small enough, it will heal on it's own.

The good news is that the surgery happened at 8:30ish this morning. We were told by both Dr. Ramiro (his head doctor) and the surgeon, Dr. Pearl, that the next 12-24 hours would show results, one way or the other. Either his stats would plummet or remain stable. They have, thus far, remained stable, and we are over 14 hours out. He is still producing adequate urine, and the drain is doing its job by getting rid of the "bad stuff" in his abdomen.

Our prayers are that he will continue to remain stable and improve, and that the intestinal perforation is small and will heal on its own. Please keep praying hard.

Also . . .thank you so much for your emails, cards, calls, and messages. I have not had much of a chance to respond to each of you individually. Please understand that I am not ignoring you--my husband and I read every one of your messages and they mean so much to us. When things settle down a bit, I will be able to more personally address each of you. For now, please don't think we aren't appreciative of your messages--they honestly mean SO much to us and help to keep us positive. Thank you so much.

Love,
Jim, Amy, Brian, and Sawyer

Well . . .today is our first wedding anniversary. After nearly 48 hours without urine, our little boy gave us a wet diaper! There wasn't much, but it was there--the nurse weighed it twice to make sure! There was also a little bit in the catheter tube. AND he had a tiny bit of "stool." These are the things we have been praying our hearts out to God for, and he answered yet again. His other numbers/stats are looking very good. We could never have asked for more. Everyone kept asking us what we did for our anniversary . . .well, we are proud to say, we spent it with our son. Keep praying for his kidneys, liver, bowels, and lungs.

Happy Easter.

Love,
Jim, Amy, Brian, and Sawyer

See that yellow stuff in the tube? That's his little pee! :)

Sawyer was very active tonight, and totally played for the camera. So, for everyone, but in particular his Grandma and Grandpa across the pond, John and Jane, meet Sawyer!


Photo Sharing - Upload Video - Video Sharing - Share Photos

Well, God has given us the grace to make it through another rough one. I won't say a whole lot, because it's difficult . . .it was a tough morning for baby Sawyer. We were told at 8 pm we'd have to make decisions. Then, as usual, he pulled out all the stops and began to improve. We have a specific prayer request for tonight and tomorrow. His major issue right now is that his kidneys are failing. This could be full failure, or it could be (we HOPE) that they were just shocked because of his low blood pressure. They are hoping that the meds they are giving him, along with continued good pressure, will get them working again. Please pray for his little kidneys, that God would heal them and help them to begin their function again.

Thank you all beyond measure.

Love,
Amy, Jim, Brian, and Sawyer

Another Day

Sawyer is still fighting. We are tired and in need of rest, so I will keep this brief, but keep praying for our little fighter. He is as "tough and rugged" as his name implies. We love him more every day, and every day miracles happen in his little body, so please pray with us that this will be a continuing pattern.

We read him goodnight tonight and last night . . .his Uncle Keith and Aunt Ashleigh (and little cousin Kyleigh) bought him "Love You Forever," so that was his story last night. Tonight I read him the Little Golden Book about God, and Jim read him "On the Day You Were Born." We also played "Blackbird" by the Beatles for him today, and put several items and pictures in his isolette so he would see and feel how much he is loved.

Mommy's Bedtime Story

Daddy's Bedtime Story

Sawyer's Isolette with pictures of the Beatles, mommy, daddy, and the whole family.

First of all, I am sorry I do not have time to write each of you individually. I promise I will do so when I can.

Sawyer had a rough day today. Earlier in the morning, the doctors were talking to Jim and I about decisions we might have to make about prolonging his life or letting him go. The main issue was his blood pressure, which dropped dangerously low. Then, when they used Dopamine to try to help him, his heart rate was racing, so they couldn't seem to find a balance. The doctors and nurses were all very grim and didn't seem to think he would last very long.

This all started at 9 a.m. when we arrived at the hospital. It is now 10:36, and for the past couple of hours, Sawyer's blood pressure has been back to normal. The doctors and nurses are now fairly certain he will hold stable through the night!

God does amazing things. Please, please . . .we know you are praying, but if you could, double your efforts. We know each day with our baby boy is a miracle, but we're not ready to let him go, and neither are the doctors. He keeps proving to everyone what a fighter he is, so we know he isn't ready to go either. He is so loved, and we know that God's amazing power can work through this little guy. His lungs are still a major issue. Even for a 24 weeker, they are weak, which is not good news. However, the doctors do feel that if they can get the balance right, he could heal. The problem is that they seem to be either over-inflating, which causes a risk of air pockets and blows, or under-inflating, which has caused some collapsed areas. They need to be able to find a balance, and it's been a struggle. So please keep praying, keep sending him your love . . .we know he feels it! He's an amazing, beautiful child.

Thank you all so much for everything!!

Love,

Jim, Amy, Brian, and Sawyer

Hello!

Well, today certainly was an adventure, and I am moved to celebrate the extraordinary juggling skills of the NICU staff. Providing Sawyer with a safe environment for his continued growth, and the right answers to his physical challenges is like cooking five meals, on five stovetops for five different people who all want to eat at exactly five o'clock sharp. It's amazing. Anyway, thought it was time for a couple of pictures.

Sawyer at about 8:00PM on the day of his birth. That's Amy's finger in his hand.

Sawyer is such a brave little guy. He lay quietly while I took his temperature under his arm tonight, though wriggled furiously when I changed his diaper, which proves that he already possesses a keen sense of not wanting to show off his rude bits in brightly lit places. Quite right. I did okay though!

Also, a real surprise, and treat for us today: Sawyer opened his eyes for the first time.

He's still hanging in there great. After a day of big improvements - a definite two steps forward - he took the requisite half-shuffle back tonight, but the end result was a clear gain. A good day.

SAWYER JAMES RENNIE

Just to let everyone know that Sawyer James Rennie, our son, was born on Saturday March 31st 2007 at 2:43PM at OSF Saint Francis Medical Center in Peoria. He weighed 1lb 9ozs, ansd was 16 weeks and 1 day premature. He is currently in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU!) where he is doing extremely well, and beginning his new adventure in life with great courage and strength.

He is the most beautiful baby, and fighting very hard to continue to grow and stay strong. Any prayers and good wishes would help him tremendously - we are telling him lots how very much he is loved.

Amy is doing very well, and is already up and around, and feeling strong. We are both proud beyond words. :)

Love to you all!

Jim, Amy, and Sawyer

JIM IS SPIDERMAN!

Hello, and long-time-no-blog! How is everyone? Hope you're all excellent.

So... on Saturday at Wal-Mart we had a promotion, jointly hosted by the toy department and our one-hour photo lab, where kids could come to the toy department between 10am and 2pm to get their picture taken with Spiderman. There was much preparation. First, we had to arrange rental of a Spiderman suit, as we were not granted the luxury of a man-in-suit as some other Wal-Marts did, and thought that the two-feet high cardboard cutouts we were given instead were.. well, if not crap, then a huge potential disappointment for the kids we had lured to the toy department with flyers and P.A. announcements promising a chance to meet Spiderman.

We arranged staffing for the lab, a guy from the toy department was supposed to be in early to set up the backdrop, and two of the managers agreed to dress in the suit for two-hours each. We had the bakery make two boxes of Spiderman cupcakes to offer the kids, we had our cameras ready the night before and... it all went the Wal-Mart way. I arrived at 10:05 am, and NOTHING was set up. On top of that, the manager who was supposed to "be" Spiderman for the first two hours had "not been told about it", the other was not in until 12:00pm. It was at least 50p/c the responsibility of the photo lab to make the day happen and, as manager, about 49p/c of that was mine. Panic was in the air like a very fat blimp, and indeed Hindenburg-like crash-and-burn film footage, and images of crying kids and angry parents began flashing through my mind at a great rate of frames-per-second. Anyway, to cut a long story at least in half, we drafted in, until he had to leave for lunch, David, who works in dairy, who agreed, for reasons unknown, to don the suit and save the day. Or should I say, half of it.

If you hadn't already caught on, guess who else got to be Spiderman, in the middle of Pekin Wal-Mart, in an INCREDIBLY hot suit, for just over two hours?

Here's the pics:

SpideyJim meets the kids - these little guys happen to be Mo, and Bo, the children of Amy Aluyi (background) who goes to our church. The kids go to Amy's daycare too.

The kids were all really, really cute, but otherwise fell into three distinct categories. Namely:

- Abject terror. ("I don't like this AT ALL.")

- Completely unimpressed. ("Wow. A guy with a suit on. Backwards.")

- Excited beyond all reason. ("It's REALLY Spiderman!!!!!!! I love you SPIDERMAAAAN!!!")

It was a welcome break from the norm - oh, and I decided that when Sawyer grows up we are definitely renting Spiderman suits for a day. :)

SpideyJim takes a moment out to have a chat with Jeramy (not a spelling misteak) from ICS.

We did it!!! Here's SpideyJim, after the successful completion of the Spiderman promotion. It was at this point that somebody pointed out that I'd had my suit on backwards the entire time, which is such a SpideyJim thing to do. I actually felt very proud that we made it all work out - I had privately SWORN when the promotion was announced that there was no incitement, inducement, or cooing would make me put that suit on, but I did and, though I admit it grudgingly, had a little bit of fun too.

This is SO going on my resume.

Bereaved Parents Wish List

I wish my child hadn't died. I wish I had him back. I wish you wouldn't be afraid to speak my child's name. My child lived and was very important to me. I need to hear that he was important to you also. If I cry and get emotional when you talk about my child, I wish you knew that it isn't because you have hurt me. My child's death is the cause of my tears. You have talked about my child and you have allowed me to share my grief. I thank you for both. Being a bereaved parent is not contagious, so I wish you wouldn't shy away from me. I need you now more than ever. I need diversions, so I do want to hear about you, but I also want you to hear about me. I might be sad and I might cry, but I wish you would let me talk about my child; my favorite topic of the day. I know that you think of and pray for me often. I also know that my child's death pains you too. I wish you would let me know these things through a phone call, a card or note, or a real big hug. I wish you wouldn't expect my grief to be over. These first years are traumatic for me, but I wish you could understand that my grief will never be over. I will suffer the death of my child until the day I die. I am working hard in my recovery, but I wish you could understand that I will never fully recover. I will always miss my child and I will always grieve that he is dead. I wish you wouldn't expect me "not to think about it" or "be happy". Neither will happen for a very long time, so don't frustrate yourself. I don't want to have a "Pity party", but I do wish you would let me grieve. I must hurt before I can heal. I wish you understood how my life has shattered. I know it is miserable for you to be around me when I'm feeling miserable. Please be as patient with me as I am with you. When I say, "I'm doing okay", I wish you could understand that I don't "feel" okay and that I struggle daily. I wish you knew that all of the grief reactions I'm having are very normal. Depression, anger, hopelessness and overwhelming sadness are all to be expected. So please excuse me when I'm quiet and withdrawn or irritable and cranky. Your advice to "take it one day at a time" is excellent advice. However, a day is too much and too fast for me right now. I wish you could understand that I'm doing good to handle an hour at a time. Please excuse me if I seem rude, certainly not my intent. Sometimes the world around me goes too fast and I need to get off. When I walk away, I wish you would let me find a quiet place to spend time alone. I wish you understood that grief changes people. When my child died, a big part of me died with him. I am not the same person I was before my child died and I will never be that person again. I wish very much that you could understand ~ understand my loss and my grief. But I pray daily that you will never understand.