a hard lesson......

For a long time now, I have been praying for patience and compassion and humility.  I feel that if I could get better at using these traits I could be a better person.  Well, recently I failed......

The story.....in reverse.....

Today we celebrated the life of my sweet grandfather Brig.  He died on Saturday May 24 at 3:00 am.  We brought him home from the hospital on Thursday May 22 after finding out Wednesday that he had leukemia.

This is the part where I let him down.  For a few weeks leading up to these moments he began calling more frequently saying that he was sick.  I would ask what was wrong and instruct him to do this or that and we would be okay for a day or two.  He began telling the family how sick he was and they would call me (because I am a nurse) and I would say that he seemed to be fine and that it might just be in his head.  In these last couple of weeks I became more impatient and frustrated.  I did not know how to help him and he did not know what help he needed.  He just wanted me there....

12 days ago he became very weak and had difficulty breathing.  He finally consented to go to the hospital and we called an ambulance.  The emergency team came and he refused to go.  I was very frustrated, I would even say angry.  I was at a loss and did not know how to help him.  Later that day, his dog died.  I went back over to console him and then went home.  He called again that night very upset and was worried that he was going to die.  I went back over, talked with him and asked him why.  He didn't know, he thought he would die that night and was worried about my grandma being taken care of.  I assured him that everything would be okay.

I called first thing the next morning, in case he really did die.  He answered and said that yesterday was just a hard day and that he was very confused.  He apologized for worrying everyone.  I stopped by later to check in and because I thought his "sickness" was an attention seeking behavior I did not ask him how he felt.  I went back to work.  I did not call him or stop by at all over the weekend.  I was "retraining" the behavior.....

Monday, May 19, I went over to see them.  He was still weak, but seemed okay.  I was talking to both of them about moving to assisted living because they needed more help.  He wasn't thrilled.  I left.

Wednesday, May 21, I received a call that he was sick and wanted to go to the hospital.  The same emergency team came to the house.  I spoke with the paramedic over the phone, he said that grandpa looked the same as last week but they would still take him to get checked out.  Two minutes later, I received another call that he had "bottomed out" and instead of going to the VA hospital would be taken to the nearest ER.

I arrived at the ER and he didn't look good.  The nurse thought he had a GI bleed because his color was so bad.  This is the beginning of my guilt... I am a nurse....how could I not see something as simple as a GI bleed?  The doctor checked....no bleed.  An hour or so later, the doctor came back and said that the bloodwork showed a strong indication of leukemia.  My grandpa did not want curative treatment so it was decided that they would admit him for the night, give him a blood transfusion and we would bring him home on hospice the next day.

When I left him that afternoon, he began to cry.  He did not want to die in the hospital.  I promised we would bring him home.  The next morning I arrived at the hospital.  The blood transfusion did not help at all.  He was so weak, he could barely stay awake for more than 30 seconds at a time.  We got him home later that day.

Friday was hard.  He was having difficulty breathing and was confused and agitated because of it.  It was hard.  Saturday morning, I got the call, he was gone.

Now let's go back to my earlier years......

After I graduated high school and while I was going to nursing school I spent a lot of time with my grandparents.  Almost everyday.  When I began working as a nurse, I still saw them at least three times a week.  We were close.  My grandpa and I worked in the yard together, we built furniture together.  Our dogs played together.

When I had Bridger, I think I only saw my grandpa twice the entire year that Bridger was alive.  I never left the hospital.  Then Bridger died and I pulled away from most of my family......he was patient.....he didn't give me a hard time for not coming around.....he was just glad to see me when I did.  After Finleigh died, I began to see them a little more.  I missed him...

At Christmas time, my grandma got sick and was admitted to hospice.  I was her nurse so I was at their house frequently.  We began to get back to our old selves.  Talking about gardening and the dogs.  Planning our spring planting, etc.

That catches up to where we started.  He began saying that he was sick and needed help....I became frustrated.  I was being a brat!

He was so patient when I needed time to be alone.  He waited....he understood.

When he needed me most, I was impatient and judgemental.  I wanted him to do things how I wanted him to do them.  His last weeks alive, he needed me.  He needed me to love him and support him and I couldn't see past my own selfishness to know that.

Now people come up to me and say what a blessing I was to him and it makes me feel even worse.  I know that he knows that I love him, but I feel awful that on my own I was so frustrated and "put out".  I was his best friend and I turned away.  He only needed love and I gave skepticism.  So much for the patience and compassion that I was praying for, the going got tough and I gave in.

Now remember that this is my space.  I don't write this because I want reassurance that I "am a good granddaughter" or that I am compassionate and patient.  I write this because I have to let it out.....I feel like I let him down....and I can't fix it with him.  I will carry this lesson forward, but I cannot change the things I have done.  There is not much regret in my life, but this situation is definately up there in my top few.  It is something I will have to work through on my own and with God.

Grandpa I am so sorry! I love you soooo much!  I am grateful that my babies can be with you until I see you all again.  I hope that you show them all of the things that you showed me.

What goes up.....must come down......

Last weekend was a really good weekend.  Other than when my kids were alive, I have not been able to say "really good" in more than 6 years.  When I say "really good" it means that I was out in my garden working, singing to the radio, enjoying the sunshine and smiling without trying.  It felt good.

Throughout this "really good weekend"  I began having more flashbacks than I have had in a while.  Most of my flashbacks are of Bridger's time here on earth.  Flashbacks about the way his worn out body looked each time he crashed.  Flashbacks about the doctors telling us to take our smiling and playful son home to die.  Flashbacks about Texas, his changes, his death.  I have flashbacks about Finleigh too, but they are not nearly as many traumatic (probably because she only lived 18 days and we didn't even expect her to live that long).  I do still feel the sting of her death, I recount holding her to my chest those last hours, knowing what was coming.

I continued my high of this "really good weekend" into the beginning of the week.  My flashbacks increased.  Wednesday I started to come down.  I think we have talked before about my being cautious and trying to stay as even as I can because the higher that my mood will lift, the further my sadness and emptiness can fall.  Now, I am more functional these days than I have been these past 5 years, I think I am just getting more in shape to be able to carry some of this weight.  But sometimes, my mind or my heart gives me a little reminder that I am not as tough as I think I am.  And here we are.....The low......

This is not a low where I cannot get out of bed or where my eyes are swollen from tears.  This is a low that makes me feel like things are so fast yet in slow motion at the same time.  A low where I feel spacey and unfocused when before I have been frantic and irritable.  This is a new low, a more subdued low.  It is amazing that just when you think you are used to something, it changes.  Isn't this the story of life?

Well we will see how this weekend goes.......

I am going to go eat some fresh strawberries and ice cream with Danny...

Mommy loves you my sweet babies!!!!!!

Her last breath.....

Right now it is 4:59 pm, in one minute it will have been 1 year since our baby girl took her last breath on this earth.  She was lying on my chest and just moments before, Danny walked into the room, she let out a small sigh and was gone.

I didn't want to let her go.  With Bridger, I layed with him for several hours before Danny was able to get to us from Utah.  When he arrived, Bridger's body was discolored, but I didn't notice.  Even holding her, I didn't notice.  It wasn't until our Hospice nurse arrived and pointed out that her skin was changing that we became aware of it.  We bathed her one more time and dressed her in clean clothes and called the mortuary. Around 7:00 pm I layed her in the back of a minivan and she was taken to the mortuary.

As I was thinking back on this day one year ago, it made me realize how grateful I was that Danny was there with us.  Grateful that he was able to see how peacefully she left.  Grateful that he had held her earlier that day and gave her kisses on her sweet skin.  We knew it was coming.  There were even moments throughout the day when she was struggling that we prayed for God to take her home.  Don't try to imagine how that feels.  You might think of what pain that may cause, but at the time we knew that she needed to go and we didn't want her to suffer longer because we were not ready.  We were not ready, but as many of you know you don't have to be ready for things to still happen.

For her diagnosis, without surgical intervention the average life span is 8 days.  Finleigh lived 18 days.  Just the fact that she was born alive was a miracle (Bridger was not breathing at birth).  Her 18 days were filled with love and tears.  We absorbed every possible detail about her.  Our sassy redheaded girl made an impression.

My sweet little love, we miss you so.  Mommy and Daddy love you!

PS- be nice to your big brother

Happy birthday!

Our sweet miss Finleigh's 1st birthday was yesterday. Sweet baby girl, we love you so much and miss you everyday!

Just checking in...

So far, the job change has been good for me.  I feel less anxious and when I do begin to "wind up", my boss helps me to slow down.  I have been able to take it down a notch and catch up on some things that I had been letting slide at home.  -- That's the update on work.

Otherwise, we are hanging in there.  Finleigh's 1st birthday is next week and I am not sure how that will go.  We will get her a cake, as we always have for Bridger, and keep things pretty low key.  It is crazy to look back over the years and reflect on all that has happened.  This time last year, I was so excited to meet Miss Fin, while at the same time terrified.  I worried that she may not come out alive.  I knew that if she did, it would be a count down for how long we would have her here. 

There were so many differences in my children's lives and deaths.  Not one thing was the same about their time here or the way they left.  Bridger's was so unexpected (as unexpected as a baby who needed a heart and lungs could be) and by the time Finleigh was leaving, she was struggling so badly we prayed for God to take her.  Think about that......I never in my life thought that I would actually beg God to take my child back home to him.  Finleigh I held as she took her last breath.  Bridger I was pushed out of the way so that they could try to same him.  I didn't hold him again until he was dead.

It still feels so fresh and yet so long ago.  We are quickly approaching the only holiday that both of my children were alive for, Easter.  Though four years apart, this is one of the few things that their lives had in common.  Easter will be our only family holiday. 

As the tears slide down my cheeks tonight I am flooded with memories of my sweet babies.  I'll never know what life would have been like watching them grow.  I look forward to being with them again when their hearts are not broken and my mind isn't crazy.  This is what keeps me hanging on.  It will get better than this.  But I still miss them.......

So, I guess in the meantime I will just take care of elderly and dying people.  This is definitely not a burden to me, but a joy.  At least with them I can help some.  My husband and my dogs can only take so much of my smothering before they get tired of it :)

Thank you  for the tears, I needed them tonight.

Bridger and Miss Fin, mommy loves you and misses you SOOOOOO MUCH!

Good night.

WEARY.......

the definition of weary;
             exhausted in strength, endurance, vigor , or freshness

I know that we have discussed this topic many times before.  And yet, it still arises, more often than I am prepared for.  I have been feeling this way for some time now, but by pure adrenaline, have managed to keep moving ahead.  I feel as though my world is different from the real world.  In my world, there are so many who have faced tragedy.  In my world, there are people who know the blessings that they are surrounded with because of the tragedies that they have endured.  In my world, even though it can be so sad, it is genuine.  Those who live in my version of this world are inspiring to me.  They give me this adrenaline to keep going.

In the "real world", it is remarkable to me that so many can be so mean and deceiving and self-serving.  It hurts my heart that in situations where there are opportunities to help someone and make a difference, our priorities easily become skewed.  I feel exhausted.  Exhausted by the daily ethical and moral challenges set before me.  Don't get me wrong, I have the strength to stand up for what I believe in, but there are days when I wish the "real world" didn't have to be so morally and ethically flexible.  Often, it seems that we create these situations for ourselves.  Maybe that is what I have done....

All of my challenges and your challenges are inspiring to me.  This world is difficult as it is, do we really need to make it worse?

I am changing jobs again.  This will be my 3rd job since Finleigh died.  My boss, who is also the parent of a "sick child", thinks that I am just running because things are getting tough.  I cannot deny this possibility.  But I want more from my life than just work.  I feel as though there is more for me to do while I am still here and I want to be able to fulfill that need.  At the end of my work days now, I am exhausted from life.  I have nothing left to give to anything or anyone else.  And I feel as though my work still wants more.  So, I am changing.  I am hoping that I will feel somewhat refreshed.  Maybe with this new company I will be more inspired by the difference they want to make in this world and not the bottom line.

Maybe I am just lost.  Maybe it's not any of the concerns I have listed above.  Maybe it's me.  Right now, I just don't fit in.  Now my goal in life has never been to "fit in", but I usually get along with most people and not by faking it.  I have an interest in people's lives, in their stories, in who they are.  I feel that most people are good people, they just get into situations where that goodness fades into the shadows.  And this is where it becomes difficult for me.  People tell me about their lives, their challenges and I try to cut them some slack and be understanding about where they are coming from.  Then suddenly, they feel backed into a corner by someone and there entire being changes.  It's survival mode and I don't recognize the person anymore.  It hurts.

Am I doing this to myself?  Setting myself up for frustration and discouragement?  Everyone needs a hug sometimes and I like to give hugs if I can, but then I pay for it.  Not always, but when I do, it's not nice.

Maybe I am just being sensitive.  In "hospital world"  there didn't seem to be time for these kinds of games.  We were all so worried about our children that there was no time to be two-faced or fake.  We were all there with a common goal, trying to give our children the best that we could.  Would it be so hard to take a step back and just be nice?  Maybe look at those around you and not figure out you can use them to better your situation.  I swear it shouldn't be so hard. 

When my children were alive, those should have been the most stressful moments in my life.  My children were dying, right in front of me.  But they were pure.  They had no motives other than to breathe and live.

When did we all become so tainted?  Am I just jaded, or do you feel this way too?

I receive daily emails for inspiration and encouragement and today's email was about "Paying Attention to Your Anger".  It expressed that maybe the very things that make you angry are "invitations from the Holy Spirit to do something about it".  Now this is just more than garbage on the counter angry.  This is anger that pulls at your heart and you know that something isn't right.  Is that what is going on here?  Is that why I am so frustrated with humanity?  Not just humanity in general, but humanity at work.   I have struggle with this question for myself since Bridger died.  Can I be the person I want to be and still be successful at work?  I don't know.  Before Bridger, I thought I knew.  I thought the answer was "yes".  But now, I don't know.

I am hoping that where I am going now can be the "yes" to this question.  And maybe this is my invitation to do something to help.  Maybe we can make a difference and get paid for it.  We will see.  I know this has been a tangent from my usual posts, but this has been weighing on me for a while now and who better to reach out to than all of you.

to my angels.....

On this night, the eve of the birth of our Lord, Jesus,  my heart is quiet and grateful.  I have been thinking so much about Christmas lately,  but about His birth.  I have been reading and listening to different accounts of Mary's pregnancy with Him and each story touches my heart deeply.  She was so young when she became a mother, but so patient and wise.  I wonder, at that age, if she grasped the enormity of what was coming?  Did she have any inclination of what lay ahead?  The joy, but also, the deep pain..... I wonder.  When she first held him, did she know he would die before her?

Don't misundertsand me, I am not comparing myself to Mary, the mother of my Lord.  I am comparing myself to a mother who lost her son.  A mother who watched her child suffer.  To my "ANGEL MOMMIES" out there.... did you know, when you became pregnant, what qas coming?   Did you have the sense that your child was not meant to be here long?
I did, in some ways.  Both Danny and I knew that if we were able to have children,  we would have one with special needs.  Now, we had no idea what that meant.  We did not know that for our child to live, he would need multiple open heart surgeries.  Or that for him to come home, a mini ICU would have to come with us.  Is that what "special" meant?  Or did it mean that Bridger was special?  Special to us, our first child.  Our son.  He needed Danny and I to be his parents, to love him.  Those were his special needs.

Then came our pregnancy with Miss Fin.  Again, I felt that something was different.  I had a feeling this child would not be with is for long.   I knew what our doctors later confirmed.  Each time she moved, I wondered if that would be her last.  Again, she had special needs.  No surgeries,  no ICU equipment this time.  She was our daughter.  She needed parents who knew she was not meant to stay.  She needed us not to ask her to stay.  She was special.

I was so blessed to have known so much about my children before I even knew them.  And even so, I was not prepared.

  So back to the original question, did she know?  Was she ready?

We have no way of knowing. .. I only know how I have felt.


To all my angel families out there... tonight I know you are thinking about your sweet baneswho you cannot hold.  As your arms ache amd your hearts sink, I encourage you to think about this night, so long ago.  This child was born and died so that we could hold our babies again.


(Disclaimer-  I don't know a lot about Him and what I have written above is what I understand so far.  I don't need to be corrected,  just try to feel the love and peace that His birth brings)

Merry Christmas my sweet babies!  Mommy loves you.