On May and the Boys

May is weighing on me. May 3rd is the 2nd anniversary of Preston and Julian’s birth and death. It doesn’t seem possible that was two years ago and I’m sitting here with another baby gone. My greatest fear happened – again.

May 5th will be Kaden’s 9 month birthday.

May is filled with birthdays and Mother’s Day for our family. It’s also supposed to the the month Sam is gone for. Although we have no idea if that will happen.

I want to do something special on the 3rd for the boys – and I want to skip it completely. I started to pull up memories of them last night, laying in bed and thinking about how it felt to see them, hold them, marvel at how tiny they were and how human they were.

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Fiercely, Brokenly Proud

A few weeks ago, one of the mama’s I follow on Instagram had a picture of her little boy up, with a caption underneath of how she missed him and “wished heaven had visiting hours”.

It was so simple and so incredibly profound, because it wasn’t sad. It didn’t seem like anything about loss. I had to read it twice, because the first time I didn’t understand he was gone. Her status was so motherly and normal that it shook me. Instead of grieving for us all, I felt this need to write back in that same manner.

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On Heart Month and Our Babies

Kristine Brite McCormick writes at Cora’s Story (among other sites) about her precious daughter that died suddenly at 5 days old from an undetected heart defect. She now devotes her story to raising awareness about CHD and advocating for pulse ox, a simple, painless procedure that saves thousands of infant lives but that often isn’t performed. Once you’ve read, consider sharing this information with other friends and family. 

Cora's Story

I learned about the most common birth defect, congenital heart defects, from the coroner. She called a few days after my daughter suddenly died in my arms while I breastfeed her with a preliminary cause of death and said those fateful words.

Surely, it must be something rare, I thought to myself.

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On Waiting and Wondering.

The Good Wife had an episode where a woman who’d lost her husband told her lawyers, “They say you should wait 6 months after a loss to make any major decisons.” (Paraphrasing as I can’t seem to find the quote.)

That day was 6 months since her husband had passed. She then promptly fired them and brought in new ones.

It’s hard to not rush into something happy, something different, after a traumatic event. When you’ve expected life to change and it doesn’t – it really leaves you grasping at, “What now?”

After Preston and Julian, we leapt into adoption a month later. When that fell through we got pregnant with Kaden a month later. When he died, we had to move either to North Carolina or a new home here and we picked here. That was our big change and it was a very good one. I’m glad we chose to stay here but in a new home.

But now.

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Faith the Size of a Mustard Seed

I’ve heard a lot growing up about moving mountains with faith the size of a mustard seed. I always supposed that part of the reason I couldn’t make things happen was because I had doubt. Somewhere in me, I doubted God could do what I wanted him too. Because if I just had enough faith, things I wanted would happen. Obviously.

With Kaden, I believed every.single.day that he would be healed. Every day. We’d drive to the hospital each morning, park, check in, head up the elevator, and my heart would start to race. I just knew we were going to walk into his room to a miracle.

Every phone call.

Every check up.

Every scan.

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