I'm Supposed to be...

(Taken December 14th, 2015. The day before he passed)

Last Sunday God gave me just the tiniest piece of peace in my heart.

It's made dealing with the grief of loosing my son, easier I guess. 

It didn't take away the pain, but it made most moments bare able. 

Tonight the grief is overflowing. 

I'm crying fat tears that I can't stop.

It hurts. 

My heart hurts. 

I'm missing him.

How could I not miss him?

Tonight I'm just letting it out. 

Letting it flow. 

I don't understand how we got here.

How I could love this little boy so completely.

And now he's gone. 

Just like that.

The bad thing about PTSD is that no matter how much faith you have, it still rears its ugly heard. 

It still taunts you.

It still makes you relive the pain over and over again.

I've been watching videos of Liam today.

I could almost pretend he was asleep in his bed. 

Instead of playing in heaven.

I hear myself talking to him on the videos and I can hear how happy I was.

I could hear how much I loved him.

I wonder, why me?

Why my son?

God didn't do this. 

It's not punishment.

He's didn't take my son because he needed another angel.

He saved my son when his body couldn't continue any longer. 

God knows how much I loved my son. 

He knows how much it hurt to see him sick.

God knows I would have laid down my life to give my son a long health one.

God knows what's in my heart that I can't put into words. 

As I sit here trying to stop crying and failing, all I keep thinking is,

"I just want my baby back" 

"Why am I being so selfish?"

I'm supposed to be happy for him, that wasn't forced to live a long life of suffering. 

I'm supposed to be happy that he got to go straight to heaven, never having sinned. 

He never had his heart broken, truely broken.

He never felt unloved or unwanted.

I am happy for him. 

But I still miss him so much that it just hurts beyond words sometimes. 

I know that I'll continue to put one foot in front of the other,

Count to ten,

And find my way. 

I know every second of every day will be tinged with the loss and the pain it's caused.

I'm just trying to survive every ten seconds until I can wrap my arms around my son again. 

Milk Jug Ghost Craft

This craft is practically free!

And oh so easy!

What you'll need:

Clean and empty milk jugs.

You can use any kind of jug as long as its frosty like a milk jug.

You can also use any size.

Black permanent marker.

Some kind of light like a string of clear Christmas lights or battery operated candles.

Scissors or a utility knife.

Start by drawing your face.

Hint: you can't really go wrong here so let your kiddos have fun.

Cut a small hole in the back of the jug, just big enough to insert your light.

I like the battery operated tea lights because there's no cord and the flicker.

Next just place there where you want and turn them on.

Enjoy your "spooky" scene as soon as the sun goes down.

Check out more crafts on Babble.

Changed

When Liam passed away, I became angry and closed off and maybe even a little bitter.

I lost my son and I was hurt. I wanted something or someone to blame.

I fought so hard not to blame God.

I know it wasn't his work that took my son.

At Liam's memorial our pastor said something that stuck in my mind,

and the mind of a dear friend,

maybe even more people.

He said that God is not a baby snatcher.

God did not take Liam just because he wanted another angel.

He said God doesn't work like that.

When Liam was born with CDH and in NICU,

I was hurt and angry.

I blamed God for doing this to my baby.

I was in a dark place that took a lot of work to climb out of.

It took a lot for me to realize and believe that God didn't make Liam sick.

God wasn't torturing my innocent child just to send me a message.

I finally had stopped blaming God,

or thought I did anyway.

Then Liam passed away.

I could feel myself slipping back into that dark place putting blame back on God.

I fought hard against it but I think it still invaded my heart.

I threw myself into church and church programs.

It was my way of guarding my heart from the darkness.

I felt God give me a push. 

I knew that helping out with our kids programs was where he wanted me to be.

I could have fought it, after all I was angry.

I could have continued to blame him.

I could have easily let that darkness in.

I couldn't let myself believe that God would take my son from me.

God loves us and wouldn't cause us harm.

So I gave myself over to God and His plan for me.

On the radio the other day they asked us a question:

When was the last time you were tempted?

"If you can't remember the last time you were tempted then your probably doing something wrong. For the devil attacks those who profess their love for God."

It got me thinking.

I'm tempted in little ways every day.

And every day I can either abandon my faith or I can embrace it and spread it.

I thought my biggest temptation was Liam's birth.

I fear I failed that test when I blamed God.

Liam's passing has ultimately been my biggest test/temptation against my faith.

I've been praying for God to heal my heart,

to take away my anger.

I've been down on my knees,

at my lowest begging him to take away my anger.

I've also sat here wondering why I haven't been healed.

Why I still have anger and asking God why.

At church we started a new study on the book called 'You and Me'.

Since I can't make the actual group meeting times,

I've been reading it on my own.

It a book that is about marriage and your relationship with God.

I've started calling it "The Guide to Understanding Life".

Reading this book has helped open my eyes to things I never would have thought.

And as I read this book, I've felt a change come over me.

Just in little things.

I went to church today, ready to praise God and teach the kiddos their weekly lesson.

We got there early enough that my daughter was able to go into Sunday school.

I sat in the car and ready my book,

highlighted key points that I want to focus more on later.

The radio kept playing sons about complete faith in God and committing your life to God.

I had been trying to listen to God and follow His path for myself.

I wanted to do God's work because ultimately I want that reward of Heaven at the end of my life on earth.

This morning during church, I felt differently.

Not as angry or as sad.

Admittedly, I didn't want to get out of bed.

I didn't want to get dressed and drag myself to church.

I was tired and sore and I wanted to be lazy.

I hauled myself out of bed and got ready anyway.

I felt a pull to be at church today.

During music I sang louder that I have since before Liam was born.

It wasn't just that it was louder, it was that I sang from my heart.

My heart had been so hurt after Liam passed that I couldn't sing.

It hasn't been that long since I've been able to once again sing in worship.

Today I sang from the heart and I meant every word.

I thought to myself that one day I'll be so engrossed in my worship that my hands will raise in praise and my heart will be full.

I was looking forward to that day.

Today we had a guest pastor come and preach to us.

Admittedly I can't tell you word for word what he said,

but it spoke to my soul.

Like my soul was a sponge and his words water, it soaked it up.

He told us a story of a boy who asked the usher to place the offering plate on the ground.

The usher laughed and called him silly but knew the boy was serious so he did what the child asked.

The boy said he had nothing but himself worthy enough to offer God,

so he stood in the offering plate and offered himself.

This boy grew up to do great things in the name of God.

Then we were asked to stand and the music began to play again.

He called upon us to come take an offering plate and offer ourselves up to God.

Were any of us willing to offer over our lives to God and do his work?

I would love to tell you that my actions were immediate,

but that wouldn't be the truth.

I closed my eyes and asked God what should I do.

Then I thought of how I have been trying to live His plan for me.

I was overcome with such intense feeling that I cannot truly explain to you.

Once I took the first step, the rest became easy and confident.

God knew in my heart that I wanted to live his plan for me,

that I have offered myself,

but he wanted the outward commitment.

He wanted me to know that this was how it should be.

I walked to the front, my eyes on my task,

uncaring if anyone was watching me.

I hardly even noticed the others.

I took my plate,

I sat in the front row,

closed my eyes,

and prayed.

"Lord please do with me what you will.

Lord please use me.

Lord please use me.

I am here, use me"

Again I was overcome.

This feeling that washed over me left goose bumps,

left my body buzzing and shaking.
Like the song says:
"Like a wave crashing over me"

I felt love.

Best of all I felt peace.

My heart didn't hurt as it has,

it felt like it was healing and it was growing.

I was so overcome that I cried.

I couldn't have stopped the tears if I had wanted too,

and I didn't want too.

God was there, with me, with us.

And I knew that all would be ok.

And I realize that "ok" isn't the correct word.

I knew that life would still be hard,

that I would still cry and miss my son,

but I knew right then that I would survive it.

Today God changed something in me.

And even more now than before,

I want to do God's work.

I want to live out His plan for my life.

Even if it hurts and it tries to break me.

Even if it brings me to my knees.

To be honest, it's been questionable if I'd survive this or not.

It's been questionable if I'd harm myself and be done with this life or not.

As much as I say I would never, even believing that I would never, that darkness was still there,

threatening me everyday.

Some days I would be plagued with thoughts of how.

The images so vivid and real that it brought me to my knees,

praying for help.

Now there's a peace inside me that wasn't there before.

A true belief that I will survive this and that it'll all be 

"ok" because God has a plan.

I trust that plan even though I have knowledge of what lays ahead of me.

That's faith.

Trusting even when you cannot see.

I felt God today and I know that it'll be harder to be tempted now.

But it also means that I'll be attacked more aggressively now.

I can tell you now that I'm ready.

I'm ready because I have a purpose,

something I thought I lost when I lost Liam.

I have a purpose and I'm willing to fight for that purpose.

Click here to watch "In Over My Head"

DIY Halloween Costumes

Do you remember the Halloween costumes form when you were a kid? Remember how you would start planning your costume months ahead of time and then spend weeks bringing it to reality? Most kids these days have no idea what that's like. They just look in a catalog or walk into a store and pick one, ready to go. We'll this is the year we change all that.

I have put my foot down and told my daughter that we are making her costume this year. Together no less. It's time we bring creativity back to Halloween. This was half the fun growing up and I want my daughter to experience that as well. So here's some of our favorite DIY's that we found. Her costume may or may not be on here, but we aren't telling...yet!

1)  Sally from Nightmare Before Christmas

Check out this DIY from Holidappy.

2) Witches Costume

Check out this DIY from True Blue Me and You.

3) Peter Pan's Shadow

From Tikkido

4) Pocahontas

From Dear Lillie

5) Flower pot

From Duke and Duchesses

6) Black Cat

From Do it Yourself Divas

7)  Curios George

From Haute Apple Pie

8) Mermaid

From The Hairbow Company

9) Waldo

From Repeat Crafter Me

10) Butterfly

From Buggy and Buddy

For more ideas, check out my Pinterest 

Pumpkin Spice Crunch Cake

It wouldn't be fall without pumpkins so I found this recipe on Pinterest from OhBiteMe. It looks divine and too good to pass on sharing.

This cake makes 2 9x13 size cakes which is perfect for sharing with your neighbors or church during the holidays.

What you'll need:

1-29oz. can of Pumpkin (unsweetened)

1 box of Spice Cake Mix

1-8oz. bag of Toffee Bits

1 container of Cream Cheese Frosting

2-9×13 baking pans

Preheat oven to 350

1) In a large mixing bowl, mix up cake batter as box reads.
2)Add toffee bits, saving 1/4 cup for topping.
3) Spray the baking pans with non stick spray.
4) Fill each cake pan 1/2 to 3/4 full.
5) Bake at 350 for 45 minutes or until done.
5) After cakes cool, frost and top with toffee.


Find more recipes and crafts on my Pinterest page. Click here to follow me. 

And then, like being hit with a wrecking ball, the air is knocked from my lungs, tears whell up in my eyes, a scream of frustration and pain gets stuck in my throat. 

I came home from work and opened up Facebook. What awaited me, caused my heart to stop. Caused it to break just a little more.  It shouldn't, but it did. 

This picture of my handsome son was the first thing I saw, thanks to Facebook memories. His beautiful smile that never failed to make me smile when he was here. A thought ran through my head, no this can't be my life. It's not my life. My son is in his room playing with his trains and watching ninja turtles. This can't be my life....

The reality of it came crashing down on me, breaking me all over again. How can this really be my life? The emotion becomes too much and I start dissaccosiating again. I go numb. My mind and heart just can't take the amount of sadness and darkness I was slipping into too. 

I know the facts. You don't have to tell them to me. I know better than anyone. 9 months and 8 days.

I had a bad night last night. Sharp pains through my brain, like an alarm, woke me up from a deep sleep. I was avoiding coming home from work this morning. I wasn't sure why. Since Liam passed away, I never wanted to leave the house. If I could, I'd stay curled up in bed. The feeling of not wanting to come home was so new and sudden that I couldn't understand it. I think subconsciously, I knew. I have a routine in the mornings and one is to check my Facebook. I always check on my tablet after I get home. My subconscious knew that I couldn't handle this today and it tried to warn me. 

Today, the grief is so crushing and all consuming. It's hard to see his pictures on these days. It's hard to see his things. I just shut down. There's no other way to survive this except to shut down emotionally. 

Breaking the Chains

My therapist loves to tell me:

"grief is a choice. You can choose not to be sad. You can choose to move on"

 This statement, which I've heard others spout, is meant to be reassuring and calming. What they don't take into account, are those stuffing from PTSD. Sure maybe for a normal person they can choose not to be sad all the time, or to move past this and not have flash backs. When you suffer from PTSD, you don't have a choice when the flashbacks strike. Especially if your PTSD has to do with the loss of someone.

Truthfully, I had PTSD before my son passed away. My therapist thinks I've had it since I was around 5. Any traumatic event I went through since then, has only made my PTSD worse. My sons traumatic birth open a flood gate of symptoms and his passing only made it exponentially worse. I have no say when I'll get a flashback or what it's about and I surely can't prevent them. I don't choose to be like this. I don't choose to "live in the past". Having someone say to me that I have a choice is both laughable and hurtful. 

I want to break the chains of stigmatism when it comes to grief, depression and PTSD. When I tell someone that I have PTSD, I can see the change in their eyes. Their pupils get a little bigger, their eyes a little wider. Their mouth opens a little and sometimes even a quiet gasp escapes. All before they even have a chance to school their expression. Some even go as far as taking a step back to put space between us, without even realizing they're doing it. It's not meant to be hurtful. It's just an involuntary action. Yet it still hurts. Everything after that just seems fake and forced. 

PTSD isn't something I go around telling everyone I have. Why would I? In fact it's something I feel I was quiet about all too long. I was afraid of how stupid it sounded that I had PTSD. I have never seen war. I have never been in the military. So yea, even to me it sounded stupid. That was before I found out that the majority of those who have PTSD that is non war related, are afraid to talk about it. 

There are many situations that can cause PTSD. In fact it's name alone explains a lot. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Do you know what that means? It means any situation that is traumatic can cause PTSD. It's a traumatic situation that puts so much stress on your brain that it goes into what I call "safe mode" in order to protect yourself. Some situations can be blocked from your memory for years  before they surface again and when they do, it comes in flashbacks that feel like your there in that moment all over again. 

Your brain then creates triggers associated with that traumatic event. Smells, sounds, whatever. When your brain recognizes a trigger, it goes into "safe mode". You may start feeling anxious or worried and don't know why. You could get clammy, have a racing heart, experience the feeling of impending doom. This is your brain trying to protect you. It's normal for PTSD sufferers to go through this and more.

For parents that had babies in the NICU, they don't just get better once their child is better. For years they may try to prevent their child from getting sick or hurt. When their child does get sick, or even ends up in the hospital, their symptoms once again act up and they even experience flashbacks from their time in the NICU. Here are some statistics for your:

1.5-6% of of mother's reported having PTSS following childbirth.

26-41% of mother's reported having PTSS after having a premature baby.

27% of parents are reported to have PTSD following PICU.

20% of parents who have a child who suffers from cancer is reported to suffer from PTSS.

44% of NICU mom's are reported to suffer from PTSD,

There's more of us out there than we know, but most are just afraid to come forward and seek the help they need or to talk about what they're going through. If you suffer fro PTSD, PSS, or depression you shouldn't be ashamed. It's not your fault. As I stated above, this is your brains way of trying to protect you. For lots of people, talking about it helps. If you don't feel you can talk to your family or your friends, then seek therapy. It always helps to have a sounding board to let all your fears out on. Someone who will reassure you that, if anything, your not going crazy. I know having since I started therapy after my son passed that it helped me. I'm learning more about what PTSD and depression is and how it affects every aspect of my life.

A therapist will also let you know if you need to seek out a doctor to prescribe medication to help you. Never be ashamed to seek help and to get better. PTSD can make you feel weak but know that your not. After I gave birth to my daughter, I suffered from postpartum depression. I was too ashamed to talk about and seek help. I suffered in silence. As each day, week, month passed, I got worse. It effected every aspect of my life. I got so bad that even cleaning was extremely difficult. After a year and a half, my family sat me down and begged me to seek help. I remember crying and apologizing, telling them I tried so hard. Things got much better after a trip to the doctor and we found a med that worked for me. To think, I wasted all that time suffering just because I was afraid of what others would think.

Lets break the chains of silence about PTSD, PTSS and depression because no one should be ashamed or have to go through this alone.


*PTSS vs PTSD: Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome (PTSS) is the name given to the symptoms that are experienced after a traumatic event. These symptoms can also be delayed and appear from up to 3 months after the event, to some forty years or more post-trauma (after the traumatic event).  Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is (in essence) the same thing, except psychiatry prefers to differentiate between symptoms and the fully activated disorder.

Sue and Liam

5 years ago today, we traveled back to UCSF for follow up appointments. A clinic for kids born with CDH ran by the specialist that treated our babies in their NICU. I went in praying for good news, but knowing in my heart that we would receive bad news. One day I will learn to trust my heart (or gut) because the news they gave us brought me to tears.

5 years ago today, I sat in a room with 3 CDH specialist and listened to them tell me that my son was failure to thrive. They told me he wasn't gaining weight properly, and that he needed a feeding tube. Despite exhausting myself in an attempt to get Liam to eat and gain weight, I had failed. I felt that I hit rock bottom. I had failed as his mother. The specialist tried to tell me it wasn't my fault and that they could tell by the detailed records I kept of his feeds and meds that I had done more than any normal mother. I had, at some point, stopped being his mother and became his nurse. It was how I coped with my PTSD and anxiety, After it was set that we would once again travel to UCSF for a feeding tube, we left. I felt broken. Broken and hurt.

There was something we couldn't leave SF without doing.  We couldn't not stop and see our favorite NICU nurse and primary Sue. We had to take Liam to see Sue. Sue became like family to us while we were in the NICU. Liam and Sue had a special bond. Liam loved to fake being asleep (under the paralytic) but when Sue would turn her back to him, he would open his eyes to try and see her and he would smile. Before she turned back around, his eyes would close and he would be back to pretending. I tried to tell her but she said he couldn't be awake because they had him under the paralytic. She'd turn her back and his eyes would fly open again. I could swear he was laughing at her. Finally she believed me and sat there staring at him for so long, he couldn't help but open his eyes. We all had a great laugh. Of course after that they had no choice but to increase his paralytic.

When Liam would cry, she would place her hand on her hip, shake her finger at him and say "hey! there's no crying in baseball!". Liam would stop crying and smile at her. She knew that when he didn't stop crying that things were serious. In the picture above, Liam is snuggled into Sue's arms, happy as can be. Shes softly talking to him, telling him what a good boy he is. He of course, smiled at her. 

As Liam grew, I would tell him about his NICU nurses Sue and Cindy. I'd show him pictures of himself as a baby and he'd say "awe cute baby". When he found out it was him he'd say "What!? No! I no baby" and I'd laugh. I would tell him how amazing his nurses and doctors at UCSF were and how they "fixed" him. He was always so proud of his scars. 

Thanks again Elizabeth Nelson and Nayeli Faith Foundation for helping us make this trip and this memory possible. The Nayeli Faith Foundation helps families with kids at Ucsf born with CDH. They help with parking passes, food cards, hotel rooms, gas cards and more. If your looking for a foundation to donate too, this is a good one. Check out their Facebook page for more of the good work they do.

Random Questions

I found these random questions on Google, so here goes...

1) Who are you?

I always say my name is a big part of explaining who I am. I'm Aubin (unique right, even described as different.) I have a huge bleeding heart, which means I care more than I should about a lot of things. I am a mother, I am a wife, and I am a woman who shares her soul.

2)What are you passionate about?

This question use to be easier to answer before I lost my son. Since then I've changed a lot.

I feel passionate about spreading CDH awareness and sharing our story.

I feel passionate about helping people. I think helping people, helps heal  my soul.

I feel passionate about wanting to make a difference.

3) What are the achievements you are most proud of?

To be honest, I'm proudest of being a mom. My kids will always be the biggest accomplishment in  my life.

4) What are you most grateful for in life?

I'm a mom.

I am most grateful for my babies.

5) What are the most important things to you in life?

Family.

You need their support and their love.

6) How do you describe yourself?

Broken.

Weird.

Goofy.

Loyal to those who are loyal to me.

Crazy cat lady.

I don't really take myself too seriously.

7) What are your values? What do you represent?

I believe in God and feel it's important to have Him in our lives.

I believe in raising my kids in our church surrounded by our church family.

I feel blessed to be able to do so.

I believe that God put in my heart the need to help others,

so I continue to help in any way I can.

8) Do you love yourself?

I believe loving yourself is a really hard thing to do.

For years I didn't really even like myself and I didn't know why.

When I got older I realized that it wasn't be not loving myself,

it was me not comfortable in my own skin.

I believe there's a difference.

I may not always be comfortable in my own skin,

but I love myself and try to not be hard on myself.

9) Why or why not?

To not love myself would mean that I didn't love God's creation.

He made me the way I am and I should love myself for it.

10) Are you living the life of your dreams?

Honestly, no but sometimes your dreams and God's plans aren't the same.

11) If you had one year left, what would you do?

I'd make sure to spend as much time with those I love as I could.

I'd make sure they knew how much I love them.

I'd write to them daily in a journal for them to read after I passed.

12) If you had one months left to live, what would you do?

The same as if I had a year.

13) What are some of the biggest things you've learned in life so far.

Life isn't fair.

God's plans for us are bigger than our own.

At some point, your going to be broken but the choice is yours. Will you let it keep you down, or will you find a way to live with the brokenness and not let it win?

14) What advice would you give yourself 3 years ago?

I'd tell myself to enjoy every single moment.

From the pain to the happiness.

I'd tell myself to take more videos of my kids playing.

I'd tell myself to take more pictures.

I'd tell myself that I was going to hurt more than I've ever hurt in my life.

Maybe warning my past self that I would lose my son, would change the future.

15) Is there something you're still holding on to? Maybe it's time to let it go.

It's been 9 months since my son passed and I have a dresser full of his clothes.

A trunk full of his things and many many boxes.

I can't let them go just yet.

I'm not ready.

16) What are you busy with today?

I keep myself busy with work, cleaning, volunteering.

Really anything that will keep my mind of the hurt I feel from losing my son.

17) What opportunities are you looking for?

I'm always looking to help others and to spread CDH awareness.

18) What are your biggest goals and dreams?

I don't want my sons life to be in vein so I want to turn our tragedy over losing him into something positive. I'm looking into going back to school to become a nurse so I can help others born with CDH and other birth defects.

19) What's stopping you from achieving them?

Time, money.

20) What would you do if you had all the time and money in the world with no limitations?

If I had no limitations in money, I would be able to stop working and spend my time organizing donations to Children's hospital for the sick kids for holidays. I'd donate to CDH research and other worthy research studies. I'd do whatever I could to give back.

21) What's you biggest regret and why?

My mind always goes back to my son Liam. If nothing I could have done would have prevented his death then I would have let him experience life more. I would have taken him to the zoo and amusement parks. I would have taken him to Colorado to visit my family. I would have made every day even better.

22) What do you fear most in life?

If already faced my biggest fear and live it everyday.

Loosing a child.

23) What is your purpose in life?

I thought my purpose was to be Liam's mom. To take care of him.

I don't know anymore what my purpose is.

24) What are your hobbies?

Right now it's anything to keep me busy and my mind off the pain.

Reading, playing games, cleaning.

25) If you could sit on a bench for an hour and talk to anyone (past/present) who would it be?

I'd sit there and hold my son again.

I'd ask him what heaven was like and I's tell him how much I love and miss him.

Thanks for playing along!

Blowing Dandelions

                                  

(Liam September 21st, 2015)

Dear Sweet Liam,

My little angel,

I don't understand this life without you.

Your pictures,

Your things,

And this hurt,

Are the only reason I know you really existed.

I go through each day like a zombie,

Never really living,

Just existing.

I'm trying to see the light in this storm.

It should me simple.

It is simple. 

You were hurting,

And now your not.

You lived a life of pain,

And now your suffering has ended.

I wanted so badly to believe that you were ok.

Every night I prayed for your health.

Lord please make each day better than the last.

Each day was better,

Even through the set backs.

It was better until it wasn't.

I know your suffering has ended.

I know your healthy and happy in heaven.

I wish I could see it.

I wish you were happy and healthy here.

Everyday I wake up and pray.

Lord please let me make it through today.

Throughout the day I pray.

Lord please let him be ok.

Lord please tell him I love him.

Lord please hug him for me.

A mother should never have to say these prayers.

I mother should never have to lose a child.

But here I am,

Where you are not.

Lost and broken inside.

Part of an exclusive club of heartbreak,

That should never exist.

If I could hold you,

I would.

If I could kiss you,

I would.

If I could whisper in your ear that I love you,

I would.

Instead I tell the butterflies.

I tell the sun each morning.

I blow dandelions and wish for you.

I love you sweet boy.

Until I get there,

Please hold that piece of my heart close.

(Image found on Google that I edited using PicsArt)

My Wish For You

Dear Lanie,

Sweet smart, beautiful Lanie. Most parents have plans for their kids from the day they are born. I have to admit, I was one of those parents. I wanted you to do great in school, go to college, do something important with your life and be successful. I wanted you to get married to a great guy and one day, give me grandkids. (Yikes that's a scary thought lol) But I've learned a lot since your brother came along and then on to heaven.

My sweet girl, I wish you a life of health. Before Liam, I never dreamed of having anything but healthy children. I wish you to always be healthy, and for any future children you might have, to be healthy. Health is so important, its one of many keys to happiness. Liam did teach us that you can be happy without it, but it's easier with it. I don't want your life to be hard.

I wish you happiness. You've had more than enough sadness in your life for a lifetime. You deserve to be happy in life. Choose a career that makes you happy. In all choices, do what makes you happy. Even though I cannot protect you from sadness and hurt your entire life, know that each experience you have a choice. You can let it destroy you or you can take a page out of my book and let it make you stronger. I hope you become a strong woman when you grow, like your a strong girl now.

I hope you never loose your spunk or your creativeness. You make us laugh with your random jokes. You have a spirit that just want to enjoy life and I hope you never loose that. I hope you continue to be creative. I hope you pass on that creativeness to your future kids. It's part of what makes you, you.

Overall, Lanie, I hope you continue to grow into the strong, beautiful, spunky and creative young lady I see you as, as you are now. You have a huge heart and I hope that your harness that and never let your sparkle fade. I love you so much and I never want you to forget that.

3> mom

Biggest Parenting Failure

          Let's face it, being a parent is not easy. It's a labor of love, with thank you's few and far between. So why do we do it? Because we love our kids of course! All those diapers we changed, all those sleepless nights, it's worth it. So what's your biggest parenting fail? Sometimes it's hard no name just one because, lets face it, we tend to "screw up". 

          I'd have to say, my biggest failure was back in 2010, when I took my eyes off my daughter for just a few moments. She was only 2 1/2 years old at the time. Boy, I should have known better. Lets just say, I learnt my lesson that was hard to forget. My daughter took full advantage of those few minutes left unattended to rummage through my makeup. She grabbed what she wanted and made a run for it, back to her room. 

          Here I was, thinking she had gone to the bathroom all by herself like a big girl. Nope! After about two minutes back in her room, I heard her crying. Of course, I took off running to check on her. Boy did I get the shock of a lifetime! She had gotten my mascara, spread it all over the walls, door, floor and herself. She was crying because she had tried to put on the mascara and poked her eye. 

          Let me tell you, mascara is really hard to get out of carpet and clothes. Not to mention a squirming 2 year old. I never did get it completely out of the carpet. Lesson learned though. Don't let your kids out of your sight for 2 minutes and keep your mascara out of reach!! Better yet, keep it under lock and key lol.

Choo Choo Goes the Train

I don't even know how to begin this post. I'm feeling very sad and missing my son right now. About a week or two ago I asked if our church would like Liam's train trable for the kiddos. They said yes. I knew it would be hard. I expected it to be hard. After all, it was one of Liam's favorites. 

(Image is of Liam playing)

His love for trains started in January of 2013, when I purchased his train table on clearance. He was immediately drawn to it and spent hours a day driving trains around the track. 

(Image is of Liam playing)

As soon as Liam could speak, he started asking for new trains, so we started collecting them. I remember how adamant he was about wanting that Rosie train. We were at Toys R Us, just the two of us, browsing. I always spoiled Liam with extra little toys because of all he had to go through. I felt so guilty that he was so sick, even though it wasn't my fault. I never flinched when I bought a new train, car, whatever. He deserved it. 

(Image is of a troublesome truck, Rosie and fatbed)

I can't tell you how many times we rebuilt the track and how many different ways. I use to sit there on the floor with him and just watch as he happily played. He always wanted me to watch as he pushed the train and said "choo choo". Many times, he'd start driving the trains across my legs and sometimes even my face.

After Liam passed away, I didn't know what to do with the train table. I wasn't ready to get rid of it yet. For months it sat there, set up and ready for a little boy, who would never come back, to play with it. When it became too depressing to look at, I boxed up the track and trains and threw a table cloth over the table. For the last few months it's been used to hold picture frames and battery operated candles and a basket of kids books. Liam's books. It's always just been in the way, taking up space. For awhile, I needed it there, taking up space. Proof Liam was really here. I still need that reminder. I knew I couldn't keep putting it off. 

(Image is of Ozzy sniffing the track)

Today, I decided I had to stop procrastinating. I dug the track out of the closet, uncovered the table and set to once again put together Liam's favorite toy. I wanted to cry. Ozzy was once again confused and had a sad look on his face. He sniffed the table and track,then laid under it like he always did. He looked up at me like "where's my Liam?". 

(Image is Ozzy laying under the train table looking up at me as if asking where his Liam is)

I wanted to ask him the same. Where's my Liam? Shouldn't he be running into the room asking me what I was doing with his toys? Shouldn't he be saying "play trains mommy?" 

I look at this table, void of a little boy, and see another broken piece of my life. Another reminder that our home, and our hearts, are missing a wonderful little boy with a beautiful soul and a giant heart. And it's not fair. Why couldn't my son be saved? Why do we have to hurt so much? Why can't we have our lives back, our little boy back? 

(Image is of Liam playing trains while sister watches him and tv)

I sat there in ER, watching them try to save my son and I prayed harder then I ever prayed. More than when he was born sick. I had more faith that God would save him the day he died then I had those days after he was born. So why when my faith was at its highest, why shake it and test it? I'm so angry and I'm so hurt, but I'm still here praying. I'm still here refusing to stop believing. 

So now, here we are, having to give away yet another item that was my sons. I'm not sure if I'll ever be ready to let something go, but the logical part of my brain tells me that I can't keep it all. That Liam won't be coming back for it. And I pray that he won't be mad at me for it either.

I showed up early to our Wednesday night kids program, table in tow. I wanted to make sure I had it in the nursery, put a safe distance between it and myself, and had my emotions under control before people started showing up. Today I peeked my head into the nursery to watch the kids playing with it. I don't know what I thought would come from it. Maybe some peace. I don't know how I felt as I watched one of the little girls play happily. I didn't cry. I wasn't completely overwhelmed with sadness. Just a little sad as I remembered all the hours Liam spent playing with his trains. I walked away knowing that this toy would bring joy to many kids in the next coming years. 

(Image is Liam's train table, being played with in our church nursery and it's beautiful mural) 

9 Months

When you think 9 months, you think pregnancy. Your belly growing as your baby grows inside you. You think about baby showers, and nursery decorations and all those cute tiny onsies for babies. And you think about what happens at the end of that 9 month period. You give birth to a perfect, beautiful healthy baby. 

But what if that wasn't the case? What if instead of delivering a healthy baby, yours is born with a birth defect like Congenital Diaphragmatic Hernia. Can you imagine seeing your baby hooked up to, what seems like, millions of wires and tubes, each one vital to your babies survival? Can you imagine not being able to hold your baby because they are too sick to be moved and are kept sedated? Can you imagine your baby having to have surgery before they are ever laid in your arms? Can you imagine weeks, days, months and for some even years spent in the hospital before you got to bring your baby home from the hospital for the first time?

No? Well how about this next scenerio. You've sat next to your baby, watching this fight for weeks and were unable to hold them yet. Then you see another family with a baby born with the very same defect but a few weeks younger, get to hold their baby. How does that make you feel? Angry? Sad? Confussed? Think that and so much more. Now imagine you finally get to hold your baby a few days later and your over the moon. Then suddenly your baby takes a turn for the worse and one day you walk out of that hospital, empty armed yet again, only to never go back because your baby didn't make it. 

Here's another scenerio for you. You've finally worked up the courage to tell your family and friends that your pregnant. Your over the moon. Their over the moon. Everyone is in this happy bubble that seems so inpenatrible. You've waited a few weeks or months to finally tell everyone and you can't wait to start shopping for all those cute baby things or even find out the gender of your baby. Everything seems perfect and right in the world. Then one day that bubble burst and you miscarry or you walk into the doctors office for a routine ultrasound and instead of finding out the babies gender, you find that the babies heart stopped. 

Here's one last scenerio for you. You've read this far so you might as well keep reading. Like in scenerio #1, your baby was born with CDH. You sat by their side and watched them fight. You waited patiently to hold your sweet child and that patience paid off. Now your baby is ready to go home. You put their specially-picked coming home outfit on them. You've packed their things, went through all the training, have all their appointments lined up and your out the door. You think this is it. we made it. Only the journey ha just begun because the side effects of being born with CDH are horrible and for a lot, life long. You spend years tube feeding to get your child child to grow. You stay up most the night administering meds and breathing treatments and just rocking that sweet child. You've spent years, always putting them first and yourself last after everyone including the pets.

You get to a point where you forget how tough a life you and your child are really living because you'd do anything for them. The sleepless nights and endless doctor appointments don't matter anymore because you have that sweet child to love. You spent years building a bubble around your own corner of the world. You take every precaution you can to not expose your child to germs or people who are sick because you know if you baby gets sick, they could end up back in the hospital. Despite everything you've done, your child still gets sick. At first it seems like a common cold. You hook your baby up to oxygen and change their tube feeding rate as needed. You do everything you can to help them get through this set back. Then suddenly they wake up and seem perfectly fine and life goes back to your own normal. Just a week later, you baby ends up sick again with the same symptoms. You follow your protocol and do what you did the lest time only after a day or so, you feel something else is wrong. So you load them up and take them to urgent car because your sure they have pneumonia and need an xray and antibiotics. Imagine fighting with the urgent care doctor because he doesn't feel your kids lungs sound bad enough for an xray and is too perky to be that sick. Finally you return home with the order to return if they get worse. That night they get worse. Back on oxygen, feeds have to be stopped. The next morning you take them back to urgent care, hooked on oxygen to demand that xray they wouldn't give you the day before. You sit there holding your sick child, who doesn't want to be anywhere but your arms and sleeping. You look down and their lips, ears and fingers are blue. They rush you back, start a treatment and call for an ambulance. The ambulance driver scolds you for not going straight to ER. You bite back telling him you have protocol set up with the babies doctor and you know what your doing. If things had been that bad, you'd have called 911 instead. 

Your child heads to ER in the ambulance and you follow behind as fast as you can safely drive. You get there to find your child sitting up in the gourney and they smile at you. Your anxiety calms a little and you smile back and tell them how good they're being. They wheel you into a room where they order xrays and ekg to come to them. They try for an IV but couldn't get one. They break for the ekg a xray to do their job then your right back at your child's side, holding their hand and brushing their air from their eyes, telling them whatever you have to to soothe them. Then something happens, that;s never happened. Your child starts seizing and they loose his heart beat. They're able to get it back but it's weak. Your in denial about how serious the situation is when a social worker walks in the room and tells you to call the babies dad and get him down there. You look up and see the Chief of Staff and 20-30 people standing outside the room just watching and you know. You know it's bad. You call your husband telling him to get there quick because it's bad. You text your entire family. You call your pastor. And you sit there and wait for what seems like eternity as they continue CPR and trying to get an IV started. 

Your pastor shows up and you think for just a moment that everything will be ok because your pastor will help you pray for your baby. Then your husband shows up and tyhe doctor takes a moment to explain that your child is septic and they can't get an IV because his veins are so calicified from years of IV's and blood draws so they're doing a bone IV. He's positive your baby has a blood clot and that if he could just get the meds in him to break it up then he can save him. So you put all your faith in a basket and hand it to God with a neat bow on top. Your begging God to save your baby. Your even bartering with him to trade places. Then the doctor looks you in the eyes with despair and pain, looks at the clock and calls time of death. 

You beg him to keep trying and when he says he's sorry, you loose it. You scream "no
", you hit the wall, you run past everyone trying to comfort you, to reach your babies side and you beg them to come back. You can't stop the tears. They just keep coming. Then the guilt sets in because you don't the last words to your baby to be begging them to come back so you tell them it's ok, even though it's far from ok. 

Can you imagine that? No? 

The above scenerios are real. They happened to someone. The first and last scenerios happened to me, to my son. 9 months ago yesterday I lost him to a pulmonary embolism. His last words were "Mommy I tired. I sleep". Naturally I told him to sleep, that this would all be over soon. I feel guilty because I didn't know he was this sick. I feel guilty because I couldn't save him. I feel guilty because without knowing, I gave him permission to sleep and go to heaven, therefor putting my family  through this horrible mess. 

I feel angry because I put all  my faith in God to save my son. He was saved, but not the way I wanted. Angry because I need my son and he was taken from me. I feel angry because life didn't go as planned. I feel angry because I'm angry. 

9 months ago yesterday, was the worst day of my life. I miss my son everyday. Everyday I get up and pretend that I'm ok, but I'm not. How can I be? I lost my son. The fact that I can even wake up every day, baffles. Keeping my faith through this had been so difficult. I can't imagine 9 months without my son, yet I've lived it. The radio keeps playing the song about how he can't believe it's been 9 months already and now his baby is finally here. How if his kids are going to be like him, he wants to be like God. I get frustrated every time I hear that song because my focus is on the 9 months and having a baby. Other parents who've experienced loss have found some comfort in their rainbow babies (baby born after the loss of a child), but I won't have that after Liam. I can't because I can't have anymore kids. So where is my comfort. I keep praying God will heal my broken heart. Everyday, a thousand times a day, I pray this. I can't lose all hope yet. I won't.

Taken 2 years ago today.