A new beginning

We've been pretty busy.  We relocated for one.  Moving was a lot more work than I thought it would be.  I was looking forward to a "purge", but it was hard....and I'm still not completely rid of my junk.  That is going to be a lifestyle change, not just a quick one!  Our new home is much more spread out.  It is much cleaner.  And it fits us perfectly.  The kids each have their own room.  Owen is in our room for now.  We have a garage so the cars can stay inside.  And I am living in luxury again with things like a garbage disposal and decent water pressure!  I know I appreciate these things a lot more having lived without them for so long.  

We really enjoy our new residence.  The kids are getting involved in activities slowly.  We met our neighbors last night -- they have kids and potential babysitters (yay!).   They also have dogs so Kate even has made friends.  There are a lot of kids in the neighborhood so it's just a matter of time until we meet them.  We have found so many things to do and I am overwhelmed by all the choices....even just in the grocery stores!  Really--I have to work to be efficient with my time.  I can find myself getting lost in making decisions on a daily basis!

The move has been difficult in other ways, though.  Leaving Ruidoso was also hard for what and who we left behind.  We left a huge yard and a river....now our yard is about the size of the house we lived in!  There are lots of parks and sidewalks and trails everywhere, however.  We left a great church in our small town and we'll have to search for another one to suit us now.   The friends we had left in Ruidoso after Chase died were true friends.  I miss them, but keep in touch with them in several ways. 

Our biggest challenge has been moving here without Chase.  Of course he's with us in every way....except the one that settles our empty hands.  The feeling of leaving him behind was excruciating.  As we packed up, I guarded the 3 boxes I have of his things with my life.  I kept them in my car through the entire move.  We were a few different places until we found the house and I stored those boxes carefully.  His shadow box and pictures were the last things I took off our walls in Ruidoso and the first thing I unpacked here.  Placing them in our new home was painful, too.  I find myself aching for my little boy all of a sudden.  I squeeze Owen and hug him tight.....whispering in his ear messages for his big brother.  How I miss him and how I wish he were here with us in this house.  And then I look at Owen and marvel.  He is such an amazing little man.  And so much like both his big brothers, I would guess.  I know Chase couldn't look much different .... but then it's hard to imagine.  I unpacked my big pictures of the kids and framed more updated photos, added Owens to the mix.  But my photo of Chase remains the same.  It never changes.  And it never will.  It still hurts so much.  Big sister Emma proudly puts her magnets on the fridge that she has unpacked.  One of them is of her holding Chase in the hospital right before he died.  These photos of the kids holding Chase are some of the most painful ones. Maybe because I don't look at them as often.  I miss him.  I wish he was here but he isn't.  I don't always feel him, either.  And I don't know if that is my fault or his.  The lawsuit is progressing and we ask ourselves why?  What's the point?  It's painful.  It's wrong.  It's not fair.  And there is nothing we or anyone can do about it.   Sadly....

We are excited about our move.  It's a good move for us.  But it's also sad.  Like everything is in this life of ours.  But in a way, the sadness makes the happiness greater.  Hard to explain.  

I'm working on the blog--I wanted to give it a facelift with the move....part of my new beginning.  Not sure when I'll get it finished.  I need Francesca's help!  Thanks for bearing with me.  A couple pics, more later.

A ladybug, a shower, a shooting star and my little rainbow butterfly

I can't believe Thanksgiving is already over.  We had a wonderful holiday with family but it went too fast.  I have read on blogs of other BLMs about the significance of things that never used to be significant.  Our family sees the simplest things from a whole new point of view since saying goodbye to Chase.  When we packed up the vehicle and were saying our farewells to the family, a peculiar thing happened; though I doubt it would have been as peculiar had Chase been in my arms.  When I opened the car door for the kids,  immediately I saw a ladybug on the seat.  I really wish I would have taken a picture of it because I had never seen a ladybug so big and with so many spots on it.  Never like this.  It almost seemed to have character as I picked it up and showed the kids, whom were all intrigued by the little bug.  Of course they referred to it as Chase right away and wanted to bring it with us.  I, too, wanted to think of it as Chase.  But the rational side of me says it's a bug, we don't need to bring it in the car.  However, when I picked "him" up, he snuggled right in under my watch and I couldn't get to him without removing my watch and picking him out of the buckle.  It was a little odd and I really did think of this ladybug as either Chase or a gift from Chase or some sort of connection.  I felt this way because I felt the freedom to think and feel freely about this little beauty--as a result of my perspective on the universe since Chase passed.  I was comforted in a way while listening to the kids play in the backseat, talking to Chase (the ladybug, who was in the console between them) and including them in their imaginitive play.  Thinking....wishing it was all real.

***

Our holiday tripped was capped off by a surprise baby shower that Emma had planned and, with the help of her aunts, threw for me the night before we left.  I had suspected Emma was trying to plan something a few weeks ago and emailed my sisters telling them I just didn't want a baby shower this time and wasn't ready to buy or receive a bunch of baby gear and stuff for this baby yet.  I want to celebrate Chase again this year and didn't want to feel like I was overlooking him by prematurely celebrating the next baby, when, as we know it, is not guaranteed. Right?  However twisted it is, that was my feeling about a shower but I told them (my sisters) that I also didn't want to take anything away from big sister Emma who might want to be a part of or organize something like a baby shower.  If anyone could police this plan, I could trust my sisters to do it gracefully and tactfully, satisfying and fulfilling both hers and my wishes.  

It was beautiful.  It was sweet.  It was fun.  It was special.  It was intimate--just my sisters and their kids/husbands.  It was absolutely perfect.  Emma had everything planned from the games we played (the kids had a blast!), to the decorations (a sign made that said "Chase has brought us a gift.  A baby boy!"), to the design on the cake (an angel in the clouds and a baby with a stork) and everything in between.  And Aunt Lyn & Aunt Meg made it happen!  They told me that Emma had contacted them about this shower the day that we told the kids we were pregnant--so that was at least 4 months ago!  She had even written me a poem and framed it.  You can read it here.  The memories we made that night were priceless for all of us. I am so grateful to have sisters that will go to those measures to make my family happy and a daughter with such a big heart.

***

I was talking to Reese the other day about Christmas gifts and asked him teasingly what he was going to get me this year.  He said he wanted to give me a picture of Chase but that he was sad that we had all we were going to get for pictures of him and we couldn't get a new one.  But then his smile perked right up and he said, "I know, Mom.  I will take a picture of something beautiful and put it with glass and wrap it for you. Because, you know, everything that is beautiful is Chase."  

***

I had an appointment yesterday and went by myself.  The baby is doing fine--measuring 3.7 lbs and nearly 15 inches already (in the 71st %-ile).  That is reassuring and all but unfortunately I am a product of "there are no guarantees in life" so when I see him on the screen, I see him for what he is today.  What this little angel looks like today that is kicking me all the time and moving all about.  And I love that.  I cherish it and could watch him on the screen all day long.  It is such a gift growing this little person inside me and I couldn't be more privileged to be in this position.  But I can't help but think every time we get these BPPs with "all the points" that Chase was just like that.  He got all those points on each BPP, too.  Yet he is not here with us and it is still no different than missing a limb or other part of my body.  Anger ensues and I thank my lucky stars that I have the best doctors and best facilities I know to take me through this pregnancy but hate myself for not taking those measures with Chase's pregnancy.   Those thoughts don't overtake me, but they linger, and they will never go away.  I walk out of the room with a smile on my face and joy in my heart, holding my precious little one tucked away in my belly....yet broken on the inside missing a piece of my ever growing heart.  

On the way home from this appointment, I received a gift.  I was in the desert part of my drive in  pitch black night skies; nothing but the stars looking down on me.  I looked up out of the side window just in time to see the brightest shooting star I have ever seen.  Ever!   It was amazing.  And it was a long one!  The longest one I had ever seen.  Just like the ladybug, I felt comfort in this star because it had to be a sign from Chase, there was no other way I would ever look at it.  And again, as crazy as it sounds, this was my gift from him--in my eyes.  But I have the privilege of seeing it this way, because of this universe that I now live in.  So amazingly different from where I used to be.

A Dream I have been waiting for....

I wanted to document this dream this morning but have not had time to sit down and put it to words.  I have thought about it a lot and told it to Patric, but even as the day passes, the vividness of the dream does, too.  

It seemed so real.  Unbelievable, yet real.  We were in the hospital as we had received word from the doctors, I guess, that Chase was finally improving--like he had been comatose or something.    We were in the hospital, though, and I was in a hospital gown, still recovering or something.  I saw him open his eyes in the isolette and I hobbled over to him as quickly as I could.  But he was his age now, 1 1/2.  He was bigger, his hair was a little longer, a little curly.  His eyes were opened and I was so happy.  He was laying there and he looked at me and said "mommy" and I was just so happy.  Already, my recollection is choppy but we got to hold him.  He had only a couple tubes coming out of his chest, so we had to be careful, but he was very strong, actually completely normal if it weren't for the 2 little tubes.  It was just so wonderful to be holding him and talking to him and kissing and hugging him.  I don't remember where the dream led to, but what was really weird, was that each time he met or saw someone for the first time, he already knew them.  He would say their name before they would speak. He already knew everyone in our family yet we had not seen him since he was born.   I wanted so badly to take a picture of him but I didn't have my camera.  I wanted to take a picture of him on my phone and send him to my friends but I couldn't get it to work.  This was just to bizarre but it was so real and it was so wonderful that we got him back.  The dream moved on and I don't think we were in the hospital anymore.  It amazed me so much that he already knew us.  And then I asked him if he knew God and he said, "yes".  Like he just came from there or something.  

This is the last thing I remember before waking up abruptly.  I was so sad to realize this was a dream.  I could have cried had I not been half asleep and too exhausted to.  I went to the bathroom in a daze and returned to bed making myself resume this wonderful dream.  I just wanted to see Chase again.  And I did. I went back to dreaming this wonderful, amazing dream of having him back with us but this time in the dream, I knew I would wake up eventually.  This time I knew it was only a dream.  But it was finally the dream I had been waiting for.

Real Life

I know how hard it is to parent a child in heaven.  But sometimes I forget how hard it is to be a sibling to one.  Last night the kids were at the table doing their homework and Emma brought in a package that had arrived from gramma.  She opened the box and gave everyone their little goodies that gramma had sent.  There was something for everyone....mom, dad, the three of them, and the new baby.  And she was not happy.  After a lot of prying and a couple threats (which I am not proud of), she spilled her feelings to me.  She was upset that gramma had not sent anything for Chase.  She was afraid that Chase was being forgotten and I could see it in her eyes as her tears began to flow, that this terrified her.  She was happy that everyone including the baby had a present in the box, but nothing in there for Chase meant he was forgotten, to her.  I explained to her that I didn't like the idea of buying things all the time for Chase as we have a big collection of memories and keepsakes for him and adding more things to that collection, is not something I wanted to deal with anyway.  She insisted that it didn't have to be a lot, maybe a photo of him or a letter or note to him.  She just wanted recognition of her little brother.  That's all.  Acknowledgement that he is part of our family and always will be even though he isn't here in our presence.  I grabbed her and hugged her and told her that we were not forgetting about him.  I told her we talk about him all the time and we will talk about him to his little brother every time we hold him and play with him and that this was her job, too. She knows that we do that....she told me that whenever her friends at school ask how many there are in her family, she tells them "7: me, Karly, Reese, Chase, the new baby, mom and dad."  She said she doesn't explain what happened to Chase unless they ask.  But she wants to say and hear his name to know that he is remembered by all and is a part of all our lives.  It hurts not to feel this confirmation.  

Since we were having this conversation and I was including the other two in it as well, Reese got a real sad look on his face and said to me, "I really hope we get to bring this baby home, mom."  I told him that we most definitely will and then he said to me with raised up sad eyebrows, "Mom, do you have a different doctor this time?"  I said, "Yes, baby, I do and you are gonna love her.  She is very nice and is taking very good care of me."  To that, he replied, "Good."

Woah.  I looked at each of the kids and my heart felt so incredibly heavy.  I could see and feel their pain, their worry, their fears and I wanted nothing more than to make it all go away.  But I know I can't.  I know that, like me and Patric, through all their excitement for their newest little brother and their anticipation for taking care of him and loving on him, they are scared to the very core that this, too, will be taken away.  It's like we are all standing here, tightening our guts, just waiting for someone to punch us there again.  Because they, too, really just want Chase back.  And it's this sadness and longing that makes the rainbow very hard to see, at times, through the dark and heavy clouds in our sky above us.

A Cemetery

I stopped by the cemetery that we are considering moving Chase to today.  My friend's son is buried there and I wanted to visit his grave.  She lost her son just after his birthday in 2007.  He died the 13th of April and Chase was born the 14th of April.  I feel a connection there, not only because I knew her son, but also because of the dates being so close to Chase's death and birth date.  Her son's birthday is just 6 days before his death date, 23 years later.  Chase died just 4 days after his birthday.  She has reached out to me and provided comfort to me like only mothers who have lost children can.  For that I am grateful.

I saw a grave of an infant, died in 2007.  It tears me up to see graves like that with all sorts of little toy trucks and airplanes and helicopters so curiously laid upon it.  I wish I could visit Chase's grave and share toys with him in this way, too.  Reese has a handful that he has saved just for his little brother.  I long to visit the gravesite of my son, to see his name in stone, to see our names right with his, as close as we can get in this human life of ours.  I looked around the cemetery and felt it would be a nice place to keep his "box", as we call it.  When I asked the kids the other day if they thought it was a good idea to move Chase to this cemetery, they said yes.  Actually Reese said, "no mom I want him at my house! Please?  Can we have him at our house?"  I explained the purpose of this cemetery and I think they all understood.  The fact that we may or may not be living in Ruidoso makes our decision to disinter him more complicated.  But, again, I looked around the cemetery and it felt "right".  Twelve years ago, Patric and I were married about 15 minutes down the highway.  Three of our children were born here.  Whether or not we live here in 5 years doesn't mean we won't ever be back.  We have several reasons to come back here, several concrete reasons, and one of them is his grandparents.  I would have the comforting feeling that his grandparents will always be here.  They will never move so they will always be close, and I know his G would love that.  These thoughts make this decision a little bit easier.  If that is ever possible.

I'm writing these thoughts down because I want it be known that when your child dies, cemeteries and grave sites are not something that you had ever thought about before.  Choosing a place to keep your child for the rest of time as you know it, is really an impossible choice.  There is no way of knowing the right answer.  Because, as our funeral home director pointed out to us, where we bury him, is where we will want to be buried essentially, so we may as well purchase 3 lots instead of 1.  See?  Things you never thought about, right?  Who would have known that when you give birth, days later you will be deciding where you want to be buried when you eventually die 50 years later.  Cremation was, for us, not something for considering on the spot but choosing which cemetery seemed preposterous to decide.  

The first year I was only consumed with having his grave stone ordered and in hand.  Then when it came time to lay the stone, we felt the permanence of this deed and wanted to do something about the fact that we wanted Chase closer to us.  Once we decided to do this and talked to the funeral director to find out if it can even be done, only to learn that there is even a word for it, then we had to pick where.  The cemetery I visited today was our pick, until we started to consider the facts--that our family would not forever reside in Ruidoso.  We weren't convinced that we would be raising our family here and did not want to move Chase again when we decided we were leaving.  And so here we are.  His stone sits in the garage at the funeral home across the street.  And his "box" is still 6 hours away.

So these are my thoughts today.  I hope to close this chapter soon, though I won't ever know when that will be until it actually happens.  I would rather think of my son as I saw him in the hospital isolette and those days when he fought for his life.  I would rather remember him as best I can than think of the cemetery where his box will forever remain.  But this is life as best as we can understand.  I was searching on old (really old) computer CDs the other day and found this saying that gave me chills.  I have no idea why it was on my computer years ago.  Here it is....

It is a deep mystery, This matter of Life and Death.

That the same person who brought us a thousand joys, can one day leave us shedding a thousand tears.

So suddenly, sometimes we grope blindly for words left unspoken, and for the hug we needed to give, to say goodbye.

And we wonder, how this thread holds us all to life can be so thin and fragile.. 

Until one day we find the faith and courage to accept, that the living aren’t meant to understand death, only to accept and celebrate life, and to remember that the only real death is forgetting.

Let this be done...

I am ready for this trauma of Karly's accident to be over with. We went back to the dr. on Friday because I was worried about the oozing from her wound. The doc put Karly on some very high dose antibiotics and she has been so bravely drinking the worst smelling medicine I have ever seen. Sunday she was not feeling well and though I was pretty sure it was the antibiotics making her sick, I was paranoid about her wound not being well so after she registered a fever of 102+ at home, I decided we would go back to the ER to have it checked out.

The good news was they liked the wound and said it looked great so they took the stitches out. The bad news was Karly had what looked to be strep. For the love. What else does this kid need to damper her summer? We've been nursing that with double-dose ibu/pain reliever meds when she needs it. Ugh.

Then, like clockwork, Reese comes to me this morning with, "my throat hurts, I don't feel well. I'm going to lay down." Of course. Why would I think no one else would get this?

I'm tired of worrying. When Karly fell and had such a bad cut, I was scared. I felt my kids' mortality so acutely. Once again. Every time they get sick, I have "the worst" looming in the back of my mind because I know what it is like to lose a child. I wish I didn't, but I do, so those thoughts seem to surface whenever someone is ailing. But Karly fell and it happened so quick and it looked so awful and I couldn't believe we were dealing with what we had at hand. And I've been so worried about her arm and it healing that to have another, unrelated infection on top of it....I just don't need this! When Karly got sick I just didn't know what to do. And I was tired of not knowing what to do. I know what that feels like and then losing Chase--I didn't want to feel that way again. I finally broke down that morning with an overload of emotions feeling like a mother who can't take care of her own children. Like a failure. Of the worst kind. I was just tired, mostly, because of lack of sleep, but the burden of worry was making me more fatigued.

And now that Karly is almost halfway through her antibiotics, has her stitches out, and seemingly getting better, I feel another low blow knowing that Reese is coming down with her throat infection now and we are starting to battle this. Same bug, different kid.

I hate it when my kids are sick. Everybody does. Just those of us who know loss, seem to hate it a little bit more, almost on a level of paranoia.

Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star

"....do you know how loved you are?"

Some of Chase's birthday wishes. Wishing you a happy #1 birthday up in heaven little man. We miss you more than words can say and will be celebrating you all day. I love you baby boy.

EJ made you this card and we all signed it. We'll be sending it to you.

Your presents from Aunt Meg & Aunt Lyn, who love and miss you very much, too.

Woe is Me

You know, I just don't know. I don't. I just don't see how I can be so extremely happy with my life, my family, the people whom I surround myself with and then so insanely insane, at the same time. I mean, I keep going through this metamorphosing thing with homeschool. I'm changing, my kids are changing, we are all going through these phases as we are all still getting the hang of it and of each other. But it's all good. I mean, I'm at a place now, this week, this day, where I feel so incredibly lucky to be able to do this with my kids. It is the coolest thing ever. I see my kids in a way that I never would have if I hadn't started homeschooling. I interact with them differently, I get to see the light come on in their eyes when they learn something, I get to see them want to do better when they botched a test, I get to tease them about having the absolute coolest teacher in the world and then watch them laugh when they see I'm making a joke. But they tell me, you are mom.

The way this experience has changed our relationships has been so rewarding, too. I feel like they are truly my buds. My confidants. My playmates. My guinea pigs! Because if something doesn't work, we try something new or get a new lesson. But don't get the wrong picture here. Trust me--I'm also a bitch. I'm a nagging, "pick up your stuff", sarcastic, always using reverse psychology mean mom that gets tired and cranky and yells. Well, not so much yells as just nags a lot. I know I do it. But I talk to them like adults about why I do that and how I hate being that way and if they would just..... But you know this new "relationship" that we have developed or bond we have made through homeschooling, has given me a better sense of where I stand with them and where they stand with me. That unconditional thing that your kids have for you--it's priceless. I mean, the fact that you have to be their parent while you are being their "buddy" at the same time can just ruin it sometimes. My kids know what we're doing, why we're doing it and what the alternatives are. They know that they are old enough to make choices on their own and are also old enough to endure the consequences. If I got a dime for every threat I made I would have been rich after the first month of school. My bark is definitely worse than my bite and therefore I bark a lot. That's my biggest downfall. They sense that, too, but somehow, I think they know my limits. Starting back up after Christmas was as much to my dismay as theirs but we do what we have to do. And this week has been the best week of my "homeschool" life. Class has been so much more productive and successful with Karly than it has ever been, I guess the break was for a reason. Emma had 3 tests this week and hardly skipped a beat being out for nearly three whole weeks. They make me proud. And being their teacher, I know proud in a whole new perspective. Each time Karly recites a "special sound" or math fact that she pretends not to know, I feel a little victory. And whenever Emma completes a test in Math or History and I have to look up the teacher's book answers to tell her why I'm right, I know she's on the right track, too.

Now the insane part, right? These same angels that give me so much pleasure and so much love, also subconciously know what it takes to push me to the edge. No, I don't think it's at the top of their list every day to do these things, but when it turns 5 o'clock (or 1 o'clock, or hell, even 8 o'clock a.m.) and I'm in one of my nagging, "pick up your stuff" modes and their dad--my husband, my best friend, my soul mate--walks in and says "Man, you're nagging ALL the time at them. Whatever you're doing, it's not working. You're doing something wrong and you need to figure it out," I go insane. Those words, reverberating in my head. How do you know? Now don't get me wrong. I'm all for checks and balances in the whole parenting thing and I feel like that's how we are there for each other. If I'm all over one kid and ignoring the other and I am not aware of that, I need you to tell me those observations. We get so caught up in this thing called life some times that it's nice to have your significant other there to point out the obvious when needed.

But this was a little too much. I mean, you aren't with us 24 hours a day, practically in each others' space. You don't see all our ups and downs and how we make it up to each other. I get more hugs and kisses in a day now that I'm homeschooling than I would have in a month of sending them to school. I get them in the middle of Language class, during a spelling test, after Math is over, before science starts, AND when they wake up in the morning, before they "go to school", at lunch with them, before they go to swim practice in the afternoon, when they get home from swim practice, after supper and before bed. Do you? And that's before and after all that nagging you just heard and criticized me for doing. Now don't even get me started on the fact that pregnancy hormones are running wild in this 6 months along body and all the stress that comes with managing a household when the economy has stricken and no funds are available on which to manage! And have I ever told you that you suck at what you're doing? No, because I wouldn't. You may have been specifically talking about some nagging piece of laundry I said to pick up, but what I heard was this whole job of not only raising the kids, running the household (which you have also told me I suck at) but also and more importantly TEACHING them. You're doubts about homeschooling, though you 100% supported the idea when we made our decision, are constantly protruding. "Just send 'em to school then" when I'm yelling and frustrated and in tears because of a school day. That's not the support I need. And frankly, that's just not support.

I could not be happier with my life. I have a great husband whom I am attracted to and in love with, three amazing kids and a belly full of kicks and punches right now constantly reminding me I will have one more being to love as much as I do the rest of them in about 2 1/2 months. (Is that all?) But I also feel like I'm crazy sometimes. I don't know if I'm not handling it well, if I think I'm doing a good job and I'm not, if I think I'm prepared but I'm not, or what. But what I do know is that even amidst these daily arguments or nagging episodes or apparent negativity, I am getting all I need in the human love factor. And I couldn't imagine it any other way.

Last day of Christmas break

It's movie night at the Pearson household. Kid movie, then parent movie (without kids). That's how it works around here. First things first. We choose our battles around here and some things are not worth the fight. That's okay, though. This time it's Narnia. A movie that's not a cartoon. We can usually handle that.

We have Christmas behind us know and it's time to welcome the new year wholeheartedly. I'm getting the buzz for baby things. Figuring out what I have and don't have to prepare for. Of course, as usual, I'm bothered by a huge archive of pictures for 2008 virtually untouched. Photos are taking a back seat these days, however. Then, as though without remorse, school is upon us Monday. For the kids, I must say homeschool has to be a relief. To know they only have 3 1/2 hours of school work and they're done has got to be a good thing. I'm feeling a cloud over my head, but it's not all bad as at least I get to be with them. If they were in school, I probably wouldn't get much done anyway! This forces me to have a schedule. Maybe not my optimal schedule, but one nonetheless. I truly do cherish every day I spend with them. Even at our worst, I wouldn't trade it. They are all my best friends.