Christmas Joys

Christmas Morning 2010

Remembering Chase Always

We had a wonderful Christmas Day this year as my sister and her family visited us from Nebraska.  The cousins had a wonderful time with their cousins and we did several holiday traditions including, but not limited to, sledding, making reindeer food, Christmas cookies, and opening presents.  The time flew by as I knew it would and now I am sitting here reflecting how thankful I am that my family was able to visit and share such an joyous event with us.  Christmas morning was again an emotional time for me and as much joy as I found in this little one kicking me and constantly loving on me with his movements as well as sharing this time with my sister, the pain and sadness of Chase not being amongst all this chaos tore at my heartstrings.  I know he was here.....just not how I wanted it to be.  I love and miss you little man.  As much as the day you were born.

It hurts to know so much

Last night I went to check on Karly and found her deep in thought about something while she was getting ready for bed.  I could tell she had something on her mind just by the way she was going about her business.  In fact, her mind was almost speaking out loud.  When I asked her what she was thinking about, she said, "Mom...(long pause) do you think the baby is going to be okay?"  I said, "Definitely, I do, honey."  And she started talking about her close friend at school whose mom just had a baby boy a couple weeks ago and how she wanted that so bad.  "Hope is just so lucky."

Yes, Hope is lucky.  But only you know how lucky she is, sweet girl.  Hope loves her new baby brother for sure, but she doesn't have the slightest idea how incredibly lucky she is.  And I wish you didn't know either, baby girl.  Karly said, "It's not fair, mom."  I know.  It most definitely is not fair, but you will get to hold this baby brother very soon.  "But mom I have to wait like 6 months or something and that is just so long."  Well, not quite that long but you get to feel him move in my tummy and talk to him and you'll get to hold him in your arms soon enough.  You just have to wait a little bit longer, honey.

This is the strangest thing about this pregnancy.  Not only for me, but for all of us, in some ways it seems like a continuation of Chase's pregnancy.  I don't know why it feels that way.  The time between Chase being born and getting pregnant again certainly was real.  It was painful.  And it was long (or so it seemed).  But now that I am pregnant and with big belly, it seems like I've been pregnant the whole time and we are still waiting for this baby to come out.  Why?  We all miss Chase and talk about him and ache for him daily.  It's not like he's still in my tummy at all.  I have heart-to-heart convos with Reese & Emma, too, about missing Chase and longing for this baby, but not wanting to forget Chase.  This feeling is odd and a struggle for us all.  But this is how we operate.  And, as tough as it is, we are making the most of it.  Loving our angel in heaven.....yet dreaming of holding our next one that is on his way to earth in due time.   

  

A new day

I have been visiting family a lot lately and having a much needed break from life in my small town. My little sis had her second baby and I got to hold him at just 8 days old. What a blessing. I had imagined many things anticipating this event and it was nothing I thought it would be. I feared it would be emotional, heartwrenching, and painful for me, probably because of my encounter with Faith. But it wasn't. Somehow Faith prepared me for this.  I was afraid I would only be able to see this new baby and feel what wasn't there. But I didn't. I was anxious for fear of loving this baby in a way that I wasn't supposed to or that was unhealthy. It wasn't that way at all.

I had the priveledge of holding my brand new baby nephew in my arms and seeing him for who he is....a piece of my baby sister and the newest member of her precious and growing family. I got to see her grow as a mom and see her daughter change into a big sister. I got to talk to her about our pregnancies and her trials as a new mother of 2. I spent priceless time with her and her children and got to share that with my kids. I never felt the sadness that I feared I would. I thought of my sweet Chase often, but I did not see him when I held my new nephew. I felt Chase's presence and his protective shield around me, but I did not feel sorrow for myself or my family. I watched my kids hold their new baby cousin and saw their smiles and shared their joy. My longing for my baby boy is something that will never fade away for me. But it doesn't take away from the many blessings that I see before me every day. My friend Carol put it this way: "...the sadness that we carry, the weight of that stone on my back, doesn't subtract from the happiness that I have now."

The hardest part about being around family is when everyone is together...from all the families. That is when I miss my little boy most and that is the hardest thing for people to understand. This hole will never be filled.....but we live with it and enjoy each day for what it brings.

Visiting Chase's Grave

We visited Chase's grave this week. It was a six hour drive returning to a place that would remind us so acutely of a time of deep pain and anguish. The weather was grey and gloomy the entire trip and even if we wanted to, we would not be able to set the monument for Chase. The sancrete would never have dried with the constant drizzle. We paid our respects regardless and arranged and re-arranged the flowers we had brought for him, from us and both his grandmas. As if we were "fixing" them for him, like a parent always feels we must do. Something to busy our hands, I guess. The rain was persistent, but not obtrusive. We were able to have a good visit, if that is possible. For a moment, maybe two minutes, while Patric and I were alone at his grave and the kids were in the car, the sun poked through the clouds. It was so magical how this happened. I wish I would have pointed my camera up and just snapped a shot, in hopes that I might have deciphered something later that I couldn't comprehend in that moment. If ever I have felt it, though, it was Chase speaking to us. Looking down on us tell us he was okay.

Patric and I have had several deep conversations lately about him and where we each think he is or what he is or just what we think period. And in those conversations I have been comforted in a way only my soulmate could comfort me. It turns out that we have both been feeling Chase's presence in and around us. There have been specific moments and specific feelings, however indescribable they are, that we have communicated to each other and felt the same thing.

We are not on the same path in our journey as we were in the beginning. Patric is seeking different things that I am right now. He is comforted in different ways than I am. We feel very much the same on a lot of things, and we are both searching, but searching for different answers and different explanations. I had received several texts and emails and cards and even some packages in the mail leading up to and on Chase's birthday. My sisters, in particular, sent me some very, very touching gifts that mean so very much to me and remind me how exactly my little boy touched their lives as well. Friends of ours from all over the country sent texts, to my phone, letting us know that we were in their thoughts and offering any help that me might need to get through this last week. It wasn't until we were in bed Wednesday night laying, waiting, to fall asleep, that I realized that Patric hadn't personally received any of these things that I had. No texts, no emails, no phone calls, no package. Nothing. Nothing specifically directed to him. I know he didn't expect this, he's really not the type to even want something on an occasion like this. It is comforting to him to see that I have family and friends in my life that care enough to do this for me. But as his wife, I want to just cover him up with love from me and the kids...in hopes that he feels just as loved as we do. I know men grieve differently and have different needs in grief but it doesn't stop me from wanting to protect his feelings with some sort of force field of love from us to try to equal that which I feel. The truth is I know he has more of that from us than he ever bargained for and that's really all he will ever need. But in a time of such pain and suffering I want to make it better for him when I can't.

Returning to Chase's grave this week stirred up a lot of emotions I hadn't felt for a long time. The pain felt raw and the wound felt very fresh. It did for all of us, you could see it, hear it, and feel it from the girls as they cried from their bellies, quivering from their sobs, missing their baby brother so dearly. My anger came back. I became very mad again, like it had all just happened, recalling in my head how the events throughout those days transpired, wishing things had been done differently. So desperately wishing I had done something when I knew I should.

But this visit was about Chase and thinking about him. And I have been working on/thinking about this a lot lately....my vision of my sweet baby boy. God how I miss you sweet Chase. I can't begin to tell you how much. But I want you to have fun up there...and enjoy this birthday and all those to come...and one day, we will all be together again. I love you.

Another wave

This is my second post today....and it amazes me the range of motions in any given day. How I can go from being elated that I did a silly yoga pose, to cleaning the kids' rooms, to tidying up the baby dresser and crib, to sitting on my bed in shock and a wave of tears that I still can't believe my baby boy is gone--it's unreal. But then it's real.

I think I am in denial. I really do. When the magnitude of what has happened hits me, it is overwhelming. I can't believe one of our kids is gone. I don't want to believe it. I never got to bring him home, never got to dress him in his clothes, never got to....but yet I knew him so well. I remember how excited each of us was to meet him. I remember how blessed I was to be the one carrying him, growing him inside me, taking him with me wherever I go. To think that he is gone forever....I can't. I think I am still waiting for him to come home. I never had to clean out any of the baby stuff from the house. Being the fourth child, I had it down to the bare necessities what I needed set up. And it's all still there. I have not taken down teh crib, nor the dressing table and hutch. Several months ago I took the stroller and infant seat back out to the storage shed in the back yard, but it wasn't taht hard. I was just stowing it for later....when....what?

I went through the dressing table drawers this morning as I often do and there is all the baby shampoo, lotion, oil, some paci's, some nipples, burp cloths, nursing pads, tons of diapers and wipes...and I wondered how long some of that would "keep". Because in my mind, I'm going to use it. One day. I'm not sure when. Either when Chase comes home or we have another baby. But I'm not sure what I am hoping for more. And I have never thought about giving away any of it. I donated some opened packages of diapers that were handed down to me (disposables) to the church, but none of the new, unopened packages. I have not even considered it. And as I looked at them and wondered their longevity, I know that I still cannot even think about giving them to anyone. I suppose I could give it to my little sister--she's expecting. And that's about as removed as I can let Chase's stuff be. But I'm not even ready for that. And I don't see it anytime in the near future.

So I had that wave of grief hit me again. Sadness. Tears. The feeling of being punched in the gut. And I just miss him. I miss him. So. Much. I am sick, literally nauseous, that he is gone. I can't believe my baby, a human being, is missing from our family. That thought just shakes me to the very core. It's too much to handle some days. I still don't know how to sometimes.

And then one of my little yoga partners walks in. He gives me a hug and says, "Is it about Chase?" And I say, "yeah". And he gives me his signature 3 kisses....one for me, one for him and one for Chasey. So, yes, I guess I can handle it. With a little help. And some much needed sugar from my boys.

Christmas Tradition

I'm not the best at traditions with our family. Not like I remember growing up when we did the same thing every year for the holidays. I guess you could look at it that I'm keeping every year new and exciting. Nah, I'm just slack at keeping up with traditions. We don't go around looking at lights every year. This year we didn't attend any of the town's annual Christmas events. There are very specific reasons for not attending some of them and the others, I guess it wasn't important enough to me this year or we would have participated. That and things are different. Holiday spirit is so extremely difficult when you are missing someone...and missing a part of you.

One thing I guess we always DO do is cut out cookies and decorate them. I can be proud of doing that every year that the kids can remember so far. As I was getting ready tonight to do this, I remembered very vividly doing this last year. I felt sooo old because I was hugely pregnant. And tired. My feet ached by the time we were through. Cleaning up was a bear. But Chase was there. I know he was part of that. As I got things ready tonight and the kids were so excited to start, I couldn't help but get sad. Listening to them, and all their commotion, I missed Chase so badly. He should have been in the middle of this mess, sitting in his high chair, eating cookie dough for the first time.

But the kids did a great job and had a lot of fun doing it. It's fun to watch them work on each individual masterpiece and put their flare into it. I am so lucky to have them. I can't believe how lucky I am. They are awesome. Here are a couple pictures....I got to decorate a few, even, in between making more frosting, coloring it and making sure the mess didn't get too out of control. Again, I'm exhausted. But in a very different way. Wishing things were different.

Wishing you all sweet dreams and many Christmas blessings,

The Mountains & the valleys

My blogger friend, Laura, told us about a website where you can have your blog printed and bound into a book and I have been ready to do that. I need to do it a) before the book gets too big that I won't be able to afford to bind it ;) and b) to put it with my pregnancy journals and stow them away....somewhere...for my girls, should they ever have any interest in this stuff called life that I am experiencing. Anyway, I have been waiting for the perfect post to end this part, called Book I, or something like that.

I guess what comes to mind is how I have changed since Chase died and who it is, exactly, that I am now. The thing is, I'm still not sure. And don't know that I ever will. For when Chase died, he took part of me with him. And just as I feel like I didn't get to know him, there's a part of me that I won't ever get to know.

Of course there is telling in what is not here. I do know some things just merely by what is not in my presense. The first thing is this.....Before Chase died, I had a feeling, or a curiosity, or a premonition, if you will. It had started a long time before April of 2009 and I don't know exactly when, but I had some sort of "feeling", and I don't know a better way to describe it, that something bad was due for our family. I had often thought about the devestations that happen in our world and how lucky, incredibly lucky, we were to not have experienced any such tragedy, to not have cancer or diseases or have someone close and dear to us have to experience that, no natural disasters to take our possessions or damage our outlook on life. Our kids have all of their grandparents and were lucky enough to know several of their great grandparents. And most of all, Patric and I were healthy and fully capable of providing ourselves and our children with enriched lives. I am not an overly obsessed worrier, but I found myself increasingly worrying about something happening to someone close to me. It just seemed like were were playing a game and had escaping all of the bad things that happen to people. We were lucky. And I say that all the while admitting that we had our share of professional and financial troubles. I just felt that as bad as things got in our pocketbooks, we were so lucky to have our health and our family.

Then Chase died. And though a lot of events happened that day and up to that day that gave me the premonition that something bad was forthcoming, I never expected to lose my child. But it happened. It happened to me. It happened to my kids, Patric, our family. We lost a life; forever ripped from our hearts. I would like to say that for this price, I no longer worry that something bad will happen to us again, but I can't. Because I know that life offers no guarantees. Nothing is given to us. We are dealt a hand and we must decide what to do with it. And the only thing I can say is that I would do it all over again in a heartbeat. I might do a few things differently, mainly because I feel love in a different way that I used to. I feel things differently than I used to. I feel differently than I used to. And I guess that is a little bit of who I am now. I know that the mountain that we have come upon in living without Chase has not defined us, rather it has shown us a deeper perspective of who we are. We never thought we could live on, but we are. We. Are. Because such is life and we have to decide how we are going to Live. On. Our kids think and feel differently, too. I can see it in their eyes. I can feel it in their touch. I can hear it in their words. Losing Chase and trusting that they will get to see him again has given them a faith that not very many know. A perspective like this is something that their lives would have been fulfilled not to have known. But as life would have it, they now feel, love, and see things deeper than they did before April 17th. They know how to survive in a way that we never could have taught them. They watched Chase fight and they know that they have it in themselves to fight, too. They know that family means we all stay together and though we might not be able to see Chase, we feel him and we know he is there. And Chase feels us. He feels our love. He has to. How can he not?

So it is with this post that I close this journal and move on to the next one. I can't really call it a Chapter or a Book because I don't feel like have have achieved anything or reached a goal or started anything anew. All I know is this life will go on, our stories will continue and our love will always endure. I won't say that there is always tomorrow, but I do know that our family is definitely more than forever.

My highlight

We had a highly anticipated trip to Colorado to visit family for Thanksgiving. The kids were so excited and Patric & I were anxious to get away for a week. I was a bit unsure how it would all go. I was excited, but dreaded it, too. Making memories always hurts these days. Everything is such a mix of emotions. My family is the most important thing in my life to me. And that includes my extended family and their families, too. But since Chase died, getting together with family is a screaming reminder (but then again, I have that every day of my life) of my missing child. I see my nieces and nephews and my heart aches because Chase should be there with them. I think about him crawling around on the floor, about the toddlers and older cousins fighting to hold him, about his siblings showing him off, about how my arms should not be so available....and empty.

I was sad, as expected. But I think I did okay. I cherish the time with my sisters. I laughed. I cried. I laughed harder than I have since before Chase died. And I cried harder than I have in several months. It was an emotional time, a sad time, but it was a wonderful time.

The highlight of my weekend, though, was when all the cousins said one thing they were thankful for. Hearing Chase's name come from their tiny mouths melted me. It made me realize that they miss him, too. That we all wish he was here sharing these moments with us. And it hurt so incredibly bad. But it also felt so heartwarming and proud. I am so lucky for my caring and supportive family. Thank you for loving me.

She's the Tough One

She's stubborn but she's brave, she's conniving but she's compassionate and she knows more than any 2nd grader should ever have to know. And today, she had the toughest lesson of her life.

Karly was picked for Student of the Week in her class and she had to fill out a poster with things about her to share with her classmates. We took pictures of her pets, our house, she drew her favorite food, wrote her favorite colors, listed her friends, and pasted photos of her aspired jobs. We also had to include a photo of our family. This was our first obstacle with this project and it is one I had not yet been faced with. I had already thought about it, what our family pictures would be--for the rest of our lives. Family pictures would always be difficult for me because no matter what kind of family picture, cousins on my side, cousins on Patric's side, pictures of the kids or a picture of our family, there would always be someone missing. This is a painful reminder that I don't ever see going away. I have a family picture of us in the living room taken just before I got pregnant with Chase and I remember thinking how "full" our lives seemed in that picture and how on earth were we going to handle one more Pearson. Now, when I look at that picture, all I see is what is missing. Our beautiful son, their handsome baby brother. I decided one of the first times looking at that photo after Chase died that I would always be holding him for every family picture from here on out. I would hold his blanket or something physical, something significant that would represent Chase in the photograph. We took a snapshot family photo for Karly's poster yesterday and I wanted Chase in it somehow, whether or not Karly wanted to explain it to her class. I needed Chase in it. So Karly held her Chase blanket in the photo and we left it at that.

Later that night, it was time to get her show-and-tell item(s) that she would be sharing with her classmates as part of the Student of the Week priveleges. She asked what we thought she should take and after a few suggestions of her American Girl doll or a stuffed animal, she disappeared to her bedroom. She returned with her photograph of her holding Chase in the NICU, moments before he died. And she had a smile on her face.

This is the same girl that I warned her teacher the first day of school was not comfortable talking about her baby brother and to please "protect" her for me from any kids that might try to ask her about him. I did not know what to think. On one hand, I was extremely comforted in the fact that she wanted to share him with her classmates. On the other hand, I was so deeply petrified that she would get asked a heartless question about the picture in all it's uneducated eye's gory and she would get hurt. All I want to do is protect her from hurt. And I think at 7 years old, I should be able to do that as her mom. How was I to know how this might unfold? The potential for invited catastrophe was terrifying. I told her to show her dad what she picked. She did and I could Patric was touched. He was proud. I was too. So very proud of her for even thinking about doing this. But I just couldn't bare her getting hurt. The hurt that you just can't take away no matter what because you can't bring back her baby brother to make it all better. After seeing Patric's approving nod to her when he saw the picture, I felt better. I asked her if she was sure she felt comfortable with this and she said, without hesitation, "yes". Where is the rule book on grief and how to handle situations like this with your 7-year-old? Why can't someone just tell me what to do? I feel like I am making decisions that will affect her for life. The way she deals with this now, will affect what she takes with her as a memory of her baby brother forever. Of course all of our decisions have the potential to affect our children's lives but this, this is something parents shouldn't HAVE to deal with.

I walked her to her classroom and had a brief talk with her teacher about what was going on. I also talked to the school counselor and asked for her help, too. Between the both of them, my apprehensive willingness to allow this and Karly's undying strength, the day was a success. She told her class all about herself, her family, her pets and her favorite things. She shared with her entire class her baby brother by showing her picture and talking about him. And, unbeknownst to her at the time, she has a classmate who lost a baby sister and when she shared her story of Chase, he spoke up and shared his baby sister with the class.

I can't tell you how this makes me feel. I can't tell you how proud I am of my little girl. She has always been my tough little girl. But this gives a whole new meaning to the word. She has always been strong, physically. But now, I know she is strong emotionally, too. She has compassion like not very many 2nd graders could ever have, and thankfully so. She sacrificed exposing herself in a way even adults struggle to do, to be able to share her baby brother with the world. And maybe, just maybe, this 7-year-old made another 7-year-old feel comfort in his journey of such undeserving pain and grief. Maybe he knows if Karly can talk about her loss, it might be something he decides he wants to do, too. If not, though, I am so glad that he spoke up. Because I know his mama is just as proud of him as I am Karly.

I am comforted in a way that will last forever. Chase, you are missed little buddy. And you would have been proud of the way your sister showed you off today. Because you are not here, but you are with us. And you always will be. We love you, Maverick. We love you so much.