I don't know how, but this year is worse....

This year is the fifth Christmas without Bridger and the second without Finleigh.  How is it then, that I can feel so badly?  This is not new...we didn't just lose them.....they have been gone....for years, YEARS now.  But my heart is aching, more than aching it is pierced and I feel like everything is pouring out.  Christmas eve was bittersweet.  Christmas was almost unbearable.  I woke up and went to mass to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ.  Instead, I spent most of the service trying not to cry uncontrollably.  My skin was crawling, I wanted to peel it off so that I didn't have to feel the discomfort all over my body.  I spoke with one of the other people in my parish, he lost an infant daughter 38 years ago and still, his eyes became tearful.  38 years.... he said after about 15 years it didn't hurt quite as badly. This pain is everywhere.... I calmed myself enough to drive home.  Danny and I went to Village Inn for breakfast and I couldn't even hold a thought.  I felt like I was being sucked into a vacuum and I had no desire to try and make my way out of it.  But it didn't suck me in, not all the way.  Maybe that would have felt better.  Panic was surging through my body, I wanted out....I needed out.  I wanted to run away from everyone and everything.  I didn't want to feel this way anymore.  I took Danny home, went to the cemetery and then went out driving for a while.  The quiet and slow movement of the snow helped, it calmed my mind.  From there, I was able to go through the rest of the day in a functional state.

Then today happened.  I woke up, again feeling overwhelmed with the ache, the weight pulling me down.  Again, I feel to weak to fight it.  I am trying, but my soul is weary.  I don't understand, last year I seemed to do okay.  Maybe this is just in my head...maybe I have blocked it out because it was indeed just as difficult as this year has been.  I don't know....do you?  The goal is to get through this day....the pain will subside....I just have to ride it out...this too shall pass.....right?

Merry Christmas.......and tender mercies

Since the year after Bridger died, my sister-in-law has invited us to spend Christmas Eve with them watching a movie and eating snacks.  They have 5 children, the youngest of whom is Bridger's age.  They have always been so good to take us in as their own.  They offer a comfortable environment, no expectations, no judgements.  This year is the fourth year we have joined them in their family tradition.  We were watching the movie.  I was laying on the floor in front of the television when their youngest came to lay next to me.  She snuggled right up and looked at me and said "you can't see from down here, come sit with me".  Now I love to snuggle my nieces and nephews, but I try not to smother them all of the time and that is why I stayed on the floor until she asked me to sit with her.  We moved to the couch and she snuggled up again.  She had her doll that she made sure to cover with her blanket.  She grabbed my hand to hold and said "oh, you are cold, do you need a blanket too?".  I told her no, that I was okay.  She continued to hold my hand.  As we watched the rest of the movie, she would whisper different thoughts to me.  After the movie was over, she said she had something to show me.  She ran up to her room and hurried back down to me with a letter from one of Santa's elves addressed to her.  As she read it excitedly to me, I began to cry.  This sweet little girl so full of love and life and hope was sharing a little of her joy with me.  As tears ran down my cheeks, the oldest daughter came and sat next to me and held my hand.  I put my head on her shoulder and continued to silently cry.  These are the moments that families cherish.  And we are so blessed to be allowed in to this family's memories.  Though part of my tears were from missing my sweet babies, the other part were from the love that I was shown tonight.  On this Christmas Eve, I am so grateful for all who have been part of my life.  For all who have loved me and all who have allowed me to love them.

Merry Christmas my sweet Bridger and Finleigh!  We love you!!!

Happy birthday sweet boy!!!!

Bridger's sixth birthday was yesterday.  Oh I can just imagine how he celebrated.  Maybe he ate chocolate cake, maybe he wanted ice cream, maybe he saved some for us.  I wonder if he let his little sister help blow out his candles.  I bet his grandparents, who are already up there, threw him the best sixth birthday a boy could ask for!  Well my sweet little man, we celebrated your birth down here too.  We had cake, Myla and Nora blew out your candles and we all sang happy birthday.  Mommy and daddy love you sooooo much!

Is it that time again?

     My heart has felt heavy for a little over a week and I have been trying to figure out what the cause may be.  I feel like one of the reasons is that my grandmother is not doing well and will not be on earth for much longer.  After losing my grandfather in May, this is a hard pill to swallow.  Although I will miss her dearly, I am comforted knowing that she will be free from her failing body when she goes.

     The last two days the heaviness has increased along with heightened frustration and extreme exhaustion.  I sat in the bath tonight, and thought about the possibilities, when it struck..... next week is Bridger's 5 year angel day.  Just in case that thought didn't sink in, the next song to play on my phone is the song I sang at Bridger's funeral.  It makes me sick just thinking about it right now, my hands are shaky and I am having trouble concentrating.  I can't go back to old posts to check (it is too painful) and I know that I face this each year, but it seems like this anniversary it hitting me a few days sooner that the past four have.

    This is the year that the government will reassign his social security number.  This might seem like it shouldn't be such a big deal, but it is to me.  It is just something else to be taken away.  Let's add to the stack of watching his first steps, taking him to kindergarten or swim lessons or grandma's house.  It hurts my heart.....

     I just want to climb in my bed and hide.  I don't want to face the world right now.  It hurts, it aches, this emptiness in my heart.

    Five years......not the milestone I was hoping to celebrate so many years ago.  I don't even know what milestone we would have been celebrating if he had lived.  Do kids already know how to ride their bikes by 6 years old?  Would he be having sleepovers?  Would he still hug me goodbye when I dropped him off at school?  These are answers I will not have here on earth and at times it makes me mad or jealous and, often, just plain sad.

     Yes, I am sad. I miss my babies....I miss their sweet smiles.  I have their pictures all over our house, but nothing compares to the real thing.  I miss the warmth of their sweet heads on my cheek.  I miss noticing how different they were from each other, but in so many ways the same.  I miss staring at them with Danny and pointing out to each other what traits they picked up from one of us.

    I miss them.  I miss what I dreamed would be for our family, for life as a mommy and daddy.  I miss the hope for that future.....

     Bridger and Finleigh, mommy misses you and loves you

so much (daddy does too!).....blowing kisses to you both......

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.

what is the absence of feeling?

   I don't know any other way to explain how I feel other than I don't feel anything right now.  Maybe my mind is just quiet and I don't know what to do with that.  Maybe this is God's way of giving me a break for a minute.  I feel like I am floating under water.  I can hear distant echos of what is around me.  I know that Danny and the dogs are asleep right next to me, but it feels strange in here.  Empty.
My mind has been running faster than my body can keep up.   It is not that anything important is happening, it is only the stuff of life.  Work, grocery shopping, eating and sleeping.  Simple things, but I feel like I am constantly trying to catch up.
I used to be able to run circles around people at work.  After Bridger left, I was reduced to half speed.  Now that Finleigh is gone, I feel like I am running at half of that.  I know that I need to learn to slow down, but part of me equates that with being incapable.  I have always been good at work.  Not always good at the other stuff, but work has been my security blanket and as time passes, it becomes less so.
I go through these cycles.  I try to so many things because,  let's face it, I don't have kids to raise.  But then I become overwhelmed and defeated.  Then sad.  And then empty....  and that brings me back to right now.  The absence of feeling.  I don't know if that's good or bad, but either way, it just is.
I bought a Christmas tree this year.  (The year after Bridger left I gave away almost everything that we owned that had to do with family- including the tree)  this was a big step as I had no intentions of decorating for Christmas again.  It hurt though, more than I anticipated.  By the time I left the store I was shaking and my stomach was in knots.  I don't think I can put it up this year, but it's here, in the house.
Finleigh would have turned 9 months last week.  5 years ago, right now, Bridger was doing his best to hang in after a surgery to try and save his life.  With both of my sweet babes, i have so many days amd so many memories that are tied together.  Whether during my pregnancies with them or during their lives or throughout the time since they left, each day means something different.
Only 13 more days until the shortest day of the year, then the daylight will increase.  Here's hoping that it will help this year more than it did last year.
Please pray for all of the mommies and daddies with empty arms tonight, I have a feeling they need it....

Bridger and Finleigh,  mommy loves you!

again.....

I was hysterical as I tried to type this post.  I could not see through my tears and I was having difficulty catching my breath.  Thanks to my computer not working, I was forced to catch my breath and settle down a bit.

Ava is gone.  She was in her mother's arms as she took her last breath early this morning.  Though her earthly body endured so much and her prognosis was poor, I still hoped that she would be the odds.  She already had so many times before.  You can read about her sweet little life and tender death at avalonranae.blogspot.com

I began following this sweet girl's journey a few weeks ago whem she was placed on ECMO
In order to try and save her life.  Many children do not make it off of ECMO, but she did.  And she continued to fight for days afterward.

Her journey brought back so many memories of Bridger's life and death.  Both of our children thought that Primary Children's was their home.  So many times Ava's parents and Danny and I were told to take our children home to die.  In the end, they both coded.  In the end, we both said to stop resuscitation.  And them comes the journey back to your home state to start "real life" again.

Amber, if you ever read this, I am not trying to take away from you journey with Ava by noting the similarities of our journey with Bridger.  I just feel so strongly tied to you and your sweet baby girl.

Now Ava's parents have joined a club whose existing members cry whenever someone new joins.   Though we don't want our group to grow, we stand with open arms and breaking hearts to those who enter.

I was so furious when I first red Amber's post.  I did not want Amber to have to hold her child's cold and lifeless body!  I don't want her to know what it is like to plan her daughter's funeral!  I hate that yet another mommy will know the pain that still haunts my heart and soul.  And no my friends,  the pain does not improve!!!

Please pray for Ava's parents and her family.  They will need all of the love amd support they can get.

an overwhelmed, but empty heart...

In so many ways I am at a loss for words tonight, but in the same breath I am overwhelmed with the happenings around me.  As I check in on those I know from this "angel mommy" life I lead, I find that one friend just buried their second child and find a new friend who has lost 3 sweet babes.  All the while, there are many fighting, crying and praying for their child to have at least one more breath...one more word....one more smile.

On this side of life, what wouldn't we (angel parents) give to feel their soft skin under our fingertips, to see their eyes, to hold them close....

Every time I hear of more parents having to give their children back to God, I feel the pain all over again.  I know what is coming for them and it hurts.  I pray that they may find peace and comfort, even though they may never understand why their children had to be the ones to go.

Some parents are so good at expressing themselves and it seems as if they are writing what my heart is screaming out.  I have not written as much since losing Finleigh, who knows why?  But I read and I hear my feelings being expressed all around me.  On blogs, in prayers, in music.  My story is being told.  But is it my story that needs telling?  No.  I am still here.  People know me, they know where I have been.  They do not know my children and, in this life, they never will.  In fact I feel like I only know a small part of them as well.  I know that I know them better than anyone, but there is still so much more to know......

How would they react to their first birthday cake?  Or swimming for the first time?  What would they think of snow? Would our firey little Finleigh eat peanut butter cups before bed like her daddy?  Or would my beautiful Bridger continue to be mellow and thoughtful as he grew up?  I like to imagine how life would have been.  What we might have done had things been different.  It doesn't usually go very far because, how can it?  It won't happen here and I don't know how it will be there.

I imagine that I will not struggle with depression and anxiety.  That just the thought of going in public will not exhaust me and send my mind spinning.  I dream about taking them to the park or swimming.  About Danny teaching them both how to throw a ball.  I think that Bridger would probably rather play with the dogs while Finleigh would up for anything new, she would probably be daddy's little girl.

We bought a king sized bed last year in hopes that if we had more children, we could all snuggle in our bed to watch movies or just hang out.  How big our bed feels at times....empty. 

The winter is coming.  The days are getting shorter and I wonder how bad it will get.  I know we will make it through, but what does that mean?

I am still trying to find my purpose on this earth since, at this point, it is not raising children of my own. I am thinking of volunteering to be a baby holder at the hospital.  This is for babies whose families are from out of town and can't be there as much to hold and love them.  This way, I could help.  This way, I could give some of the love that still floats around inside of me.  We will see.

Let's not bring up the "you can adopt" idea please.  We know that it is always a possibility and maybe one day it will be, but for now, what comes to mind for me is that adopted children can still die.  At this point, my heart cannot bury any more.

Again, I am overwhelmed, but empty at the same time.  What a strange feeling, almost numbing.  Well, this life goes on.  It has been 4 years and 3 months since I last held my son alive and 7 months and 6 days since I last held my daughter.  There is nothing like holding my own children.  Even if I had only held them once, it is a feeling I wound never give back.  It is like submerging your soul into a warm bath, it melts away all that is around you.  I know that I have said it many times before, but with my babies, I had purpose.  I knew what that purpose was.  With them gone, I am not so sure.  I am looking, always looking, but not sure.

Lord, I pray for the wisdom to know what path you would have me follow and for the strength to take those steps.  Please give my sweet babies a kiss from their mommy.

I love you my sweet peas!

Calling all prayers, thoughts and well wishes.....

I stumbled upon this blog last night and have been unable to get this sweet girl and her family out of my mind.  Please send your prayers and positive vibes out to Ava and her family....
www.avalonranae.blogspot.com

Happy #5

5 years ago today, you came out of my belly and eventually into my arms.  5 years ago, right now, I was in recovery and daddy was in the NICU holding you.  5 years ago, you opened our hearts to a love like no other and we have not been the same since that moment.  5 years ago, as Life Flight took you to PCMC, they stopped by my room so that I could see you for a moment.  And even in your incubator, you pressed you left foot to the glass.  The same foot that poked me in the belly and would push back at my hand.  The same left foot that you would stick out of your stroller on walks.  5 years ago today, you became my hero.  Anything difficult that I have had to do in my life will never compare to the things that you endured in this world so that we could have and hold our baby boy.  5 years ago today, even though I was terrified of what was to come, I never thought that I would be celebrating your birthdays without you here to blow out the candles.  5 years ago today, a miracle was performed and I am so grateful that you and God decided that daddy and I could be part of it!  Bridger, you showed me how to love unconditionally and I thank you.  I thank you for picking me and daddy!  I that you for all of the lives that you have touched.  I thank you for loving me and I pray that you know how much I LOVE YOU!

Now go be a good big brother and share your cake with Fin.

Happy Birthday my beautiful boy!  I love YOU!

And the fog is lifting.........again.........

Here I have been, minding my own business for the last several months, wondering how I could be functioning so well after burying my second child.  Well here is the answer......the fog was still thick.  I couldn't see what was coming.  I couldn't feel the emptiness around me and in my heart.........Yet.

In my experience as an "angel mom" (what an awful thing to be experienced in), I figured that the last couple of weeks being rough were because of Bridger's angel day coming up.  I have always had a hard time in the days leading up to his Angel day and birthday.  But now we are past his Angel Day, and though we are only 3 weeks from his birthday, something is off.

I feel so heavy.  It is exhausting holding my head up (and not just because it is big :)).  Carrying my body around feels like such an effort.  Trying to hold my concentration on different tasks is difficult.  Even as I post this, I can't help but zone out until I only see the white on the computer screen.  I feel like I have to shake my head to get the sand out.

This is real.  My babies are gone.  My faith is not lost.  I know they are safe.  I know they are not suffering.  I know I will see them again.  But that does not protect me from the pain.  Today, it is not a sharp, shooting pain, but a pull and push.  I feel like I am being pulled apart from the outside, my ligaments and muscles stretching to the point of aching.  At the same time, I feel a pressure all around me as if I am being vacuum sealed inside of something I cannot see.  It is suffocating, this feeling.  At times it is difficult to catch my breath.

Breathe, I have to breathe.  Keep my eyes open, I will try not to fall back into the darkness of the last 4 years.  Their deaths must not be in vain.  I am still here because there is some important work I have to do.  I don't know what it is, but I know it is something that I must complete before I can return to my babies.

I thought that I would know what to expect having already lost one child.  I thought I knew the process, the time frames.  But this is different.  It's not just losing another child.  Now I have lost both of my children.  By my own choice, I will not be able to give birth to any more of my own children.  Even if I could, I don't know that my heart could take losing anymore.

We are "empty nesters" at 31 years old.  I feel empty.  We feel empty.  It is a strange feeling, wondering what you will do for the rest of your life at 31 years old.  The right answer here is NOT "have you thought about adoption?".  We know we could adopt, but adopted children can die too and as I stated above, I don't think my heart can take burying another child.  I will never say "never", but thinking about having more children just makes me feel more isolated.  It does not give me hope.  It sends me into a tailspin of what might happen.  All that I can handle right now is going to work each day and coming home.

One of my patient's children asked me today about my babies.  She asked how long it has been since Finleigh died and I told her April 2.  Innocently, she said "so you are still grieving".  I know what she meant, but this is not how I took it.  Of course I am still grieving, she has only been gone for 4 months.  My son has been gone for 4 years and I am still grieving.  And so far, it hasn't gotten better.  I have just gotten better at handling it.  I have gotten better at smiling for people.  I have gotten better and keeping it together.  I have gotten better at these things for others, not for me.  It doesn't make me uncomfortable when I cry, it makes you uncomfortable.  I am okay feeling sad and lost at times, others want to fix me or "take it away".  I don't need it taken away, I want to feel it.  I want all of the reminders of my children, painful or not.  I want every part of it.

Today is not a good day.  It's not a bad day, but not a good one.

Happy Angel Day my sweet boy!

Today is Bridger's 4th Angel Day.  I cannot believe it has been 4 years.  As I brush my teeth tonight, I cannot help but remember 4 years ago this morning when I was brushing my teeth as I watched my sweet boy give his best attempt at taking his pulse oximeter off of his foot.  Moments later, my world spiraled out of control.  His breathing changed.  He began to desaturate.  His face turned purple.  I tried to get his CPAP on while our pulmonologist called the Cardiac ICU team for assistance.  I was pushed out of the room where I watched from a window as they tried to save my baby.

They did not have the correct size of tube to intubate him.  The nurse struggled to get fluid pushed into his line.  I went back in.  All of the sudden, I knew he was gone.  By now, I was on the phone with Danny.  The medical team wanted to start CPR.  I said "no".  I asked Danny, he said "yes".  He wanted to say goodbye to his son.  I knew he was gone.  I let them try, but I knew it would be of no use.  After a few minutes, I told them to stop.  I always knew that if his heart stopped, that was him telling me that it was time for him to go.

And so he was gone.......

The nurse had me leave the room while she cleaned him up and removed the oxygen and IV tubing.  I held him for hours as we waited for Danny to fly in from Utah.  Bridger and I were in the Texas Children's Hospital, applying for a heart and lung transplant.  Bridger died around 10:30 that morning.  Danny got to us around 5:00 that evening.  He had not seen his son in person for 9 days.  When he arrived, I was lying with Bridger in my bed.  The blood had settled to the back of his head and body.  He was cold and lifeless.

These moments are burned in my brain.  Often, I still have nightmares.  I imagine that Danny does as well.  These are not images that easily disappear.  The next few days were a blur.  Dave, a dear friend, who lives in Texas drove Danny, myself and my parents around as we made arrangements with the mortuary.  We had to get permits to fly his body home as well as an airline who would take him with us.  We did not want to leave Texas without him, so we waited as these arrangements were made.

We all came home.....

I titled this post "Happy Angel Day" because in so many ways, it is a blessing.  On this day, 4 years ago, Bridger was freed from his struggling body.  He no longer had to live with a broken heart.  His life was no longer contingent on multiple medications and oxygen.  He did not have to suffer anymore.  The reasons that make this a sad day are selfish.  I don't get to hold him in my arms.  I don't get to hear him laugh.  I don't get to pour every ounce of my life into caring for him.  Being a mommy and taking care of my babies was such an amazing gift that I will never be able to repay.  I have never known a greater purpose for my life that I have when my children were alive.

One day, I will have a Happy Angel Day too.  On that happiest of days, I will return to my sweet babies.  I will hold them in my arms, never wanting to let go.  I will feel the softness of their skin, smell their sweet scents and hear their mischevious giggles.

One day....

To my sweet Bridger James, I love you sooo much.  Happy Angel Day!

I just don't know......

Often, I feel like I am quietly spiraling out of control.  I haven't talked about things after losing Finleigh the way that I did after I lost Bridger.  I feel like I am watching my life on TV.  Even though I experience it first hand, I feel removed from it.  Nothing feels real.  This is difficult to explain because I still feel tired or stressed or angry, but I don't feel like losing my babies really happened.  It feels like it was just a movie that I watched.

After losing Bridger, I felt the pain so severely that I really questioned whether I would be able to continue on.  This feeling even carried on throughout my pregnancy with Finleigh.  And then she was born.  It was such a mix of Heaven and Hell all in one.  Again, it was the most amazing feeling holding my baby in my arms, feeding her, lying in my bed with her in my arms.  But then my fear crept it... Little things that still terrorize my mind like when she would breathe so fast and I would think back to how fast Bridger would breath and what that meant.  I carried a fear that she too would have a horrific death as Bridger did.  Even though we weren't in the hospital, I knew that her death wouldn't be guaranteed to be peaceful.  Each time that she slept longer than usual or ate less than the time before I thought that she was starting to die.  And then she would wake or eat or regain her pink color and again I was in Heaven knowing that I had a few moments more with her.  Then Easter Sunday came... Actually, it was the night before when her change began.  She started sleeping longer and eating less.

On Easter, she slept almost the entire day.  I held her in my arms the entire day and night other than when Danny wanted to hold her.  I held her and rocked her and cried.  This time I knew she wouldn't recover.  I knew that she would continue to sleep more and more and then soon not wake at all.  On Monday, we let all of our parents come and hold her one more time and say goodbye.

Monday night she struggled as her body prepared to shut down, she began to have a more difficult time breathing and began to experience terminal agitation.  When this happens, it is difficult to console them without medication.  I wanted so badly to be able to comfort her and I tried.  She and I were up most of the night as I tried everything I could.  As we went through the night, it reminded me so much of how Bridger would feel and act each time his body began to tire.  Only with Bridger as this happened, we took a ride in an ambulance up to PCMC.  There, they would intubate him and do everything they could to keep him from dying.  He would be paralyzed and sedated for days until his body had time to recover and then, finally I would see him open his eyes again and then I would be able to hold him again.  We did this dance often together until one day while in Texas, they could not stop him from dying.  That time, he did not recover.  He did not open his eyes again.  And though I was able to hold him, his body was lifeless in my arms.

As Finleigh continued on through Tuesday, I knew that I would not see her open her eyes again and that soon, I would hold her lifeless body in my arms.  As the afternoon came, she became unresponsive.  I held her in my arms and though I didn't want her to go, I prayed for God to take her.  I did not want her to stay and struggle just for me.  I was holding her next to my heart and Danny came to sit next to us and she took her last breath.

Since that day I have cried a handful of times and this makes me angry.  The pain after losing Bridger felt unbearable, but that was okay because I would endure any kind of pain for him and I would do the same for her.  Numbness is almost more difficult for me at this point.  I know that my feeling of numbness is easier for those around me to handle, but for me it is not.  I have buried both of my babies!  People ask me how I can even get out of bed in the mornings and I really don't know.  Is it because I am still numb?  Will I stay numb until I rejoin them in Heaven?  Is this because subconsciously my mind knows that I cannot handle more than I am currently dealing with?  Will the flood gates open and overtake me?  I don't know....

But for some reason, I do get out of bed each day.  I take care of other dying people and their grieving families each day.  And still, I don't cry.  I do my job, I comfort and counsel and support them through this difficult time in their lives.  Though I feel badly for their loss, I secretly envy my patients.  They  get to go where I so badly wish I could be, Heaven.

My heart knows that God still wants me here for a reason.  But my mind is impatient and has a way of making me feel crazy while I wait.  But I wait....

But today, I cry.  Today, I feel the pain.  I desperately miss holding my sweet babies in my arms.  I miss Bridger playing with the hair on the back of my head.  I miss holding Finleigh to my heart.  I miss their soft skin.  I miss dressing them and changing their diapers.  I miss feeding them, whether by bottle or feeding tube.  I miss that intense feeling of protecting and providing for their every want and need.  I miss them.

My sweet Bridger and Finleigh, mommy misses you so much.  I love you both!

6 weeks......

6 weeks ago today, our sweet Finleigh Sneau came out of my belly and in to our arms.  That was 42 days ago and she lived 18 days, so now she has been gone longer than she was here.  But even that isn't quite right because we knew her even while she was inside of me.  We knew she was sassy and moving like crazy whenever she was awake.  She always had her arms and legs doing something and that didn't change when she came out. In her ultrasounds, she always had her hands up by her face and would be moving her lips and mouth, that didn't change either.  So technically, we had months of getting to know her before we held her in our arms. 

I know this in my mind, but my this doesn't soothe my heart.  Up until 2 days ago, I have been feeling pretty numb.  Then on Wednesday, I met with my boss to discuss my return to work next week.  The anticipation of this meeting filled me with anxiety.  It was difficult to explain, but as I thought about it more I realize that it's not the job or going back to work that bothers me, it is the fact that by all intents and purposes, my life will return to the way it was 2 months ago.  I will go to work and then come home again, no baby to pick up from the sitter.  I will be up nights, not because of a fussy baby, but because of missing her and Bridger so much that I cannot sleep.  6 weeks later and our daily routine will continue as though nothing ever happened.

THIS IS WHAT CAUSES ME ANXIETY.  Her life came and went so fast and though she lived so much longer than anyone thought she would, to my heart it is still not enough!  I miss feeding her and  changing her and sleeping with her in my arms or on my shoulder.

The numbness is subsiding and it hurts.  I LOVED being a mommy both times.  It was absolutely the hardest job I have ever had, but I truly loved it.  The time from now until Danny and I return to them in Heaven cannot come fast enough.  I want to hold them both and kiss their cheeks, their heads, snuggle them into my heart and never let them go.

As I watch the news, I am grateful that they don't have to grow up in this broken world.  And as I watched each of them struggle in their last moments, I am grateful that they are not trapped in their broken bodies anymore.  But again, that doesn't always soothe my heart and it doesn't fill my empty arms.  Danny was such a good daddy and it will be such a long time before I get to watch him be a daddy to our babies again.  Though time moves so quickly, it still feels so far away, the moment when we are all reunited.

My sweet Bridger and Finleigh, I miss you so much.  Please take care of each other until mommy and daddy get there.  We love you!