Happy 2.5 years and Happy 8 months and Pregnancy & Infant Loss Day

Owen was 8 months this week....Chase would have been 2 1/2.  I can't imagine what this household would be like with both of them raising cain......but I want to know so badly.  I would give anything for the chaos....and the happiness and joy.  We think about it all the time.  We also think about so many babies that left this earth too soon.  And all the mommies and daddies and big sisters and big brothers they left behind.  We are sending love and kisses...and lighting our candle tonight.  I love  you sweet Chase.  I miss you so much little buddy.  I can't wait to see you again one day.

I Remember When

....my arms used to ache from being empty.  Some days I hold Owen and hug him.....and remember those days.  I never hugged my other babies this way.  I'm glad I never had to.  I remember the pain from the emptiness and there was nothing I could do about it.  I just held Chase in my heart.  Now I feel what it would have been like with Chase in my arms....and my heart aches again, a million times over.  I will never  stop missing my baby boy.  And I thank him for sending us Owen.  When I see Owen's quirky little smiles as he looks at my tears, I know Chase is behind it all.  They have somethin' on me.  I know it. I love you Sweet Chase. 

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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.

The visit

Chase is buried in a cemetery 7 hours away, so we don't get to visit his grave but once a year.  This makes the visit all the more painful and momentous.  It's not something we do every day and get used to.  Though I don't think anyone can ever get used to visiting their child's gravesite.

We had a very short window of opportunity for this trip as Reese has had baseball games nearly every other day or two this past week/weekend.  So we got to the cemetery Sunday.  It was a very different feeling traveling this time.  First and foremost, I had my baby in the car seat this time.  The car seat that for so long, hadn't been used.  I remembered two years prior, instead of that car seat, we had a casket in our Sequoia.  A casket with the body of one of our children.  That was a feeling that nearly sent me over the edge.  I couldn't think about it during that 7 hour drive, or I could feel myself losing my mind.  But it was hard not to.  I thank Chase for carrying me through those days mostly.  Giving me the grace to handle all of that.  It hurts to remember...it always will.  

I remember buying flowers last year to take to the grave.  We all agreed on an arrangement and I remember wondering if the checker would ever guess in a million years what we were buying these flowers for as she commented on how pretty they were.  This year, they each picked out their own arrangement, and I still wondered....and it still hurts.  I will never get used to that feeling.  And I still feel like teetering on the edge of sanity when I buy those flowers for my sweet boy.  It's a very surreal feeling.

Owen slept nearly the entire three hour drive Sunday morning to the cemetery.  Leaving me to myself for the ride....again, remembering last year and the sadness of the drive.  Having my rainbow in my arms this year definitely helped me, somewhat through distracting me, somewhat as a physical comfort.  When we got to the cemetery, I woke him up because I wanted to take pictures.   And he cried.  The entire stay.  It was terribly windy outside and I know he didn't like it.  But it really infringed on our visit.  We all had our time at the grave and said our prayers and did what we needed to do.  But with Owen crying, it certainly wasn't as peaceful as the trip was last year.  To make matters worse, I looked up in the sky and found not a single cloud.  I looked all around me....searching.....but I didn't see him.  I didn't feel him.  As hard as I tried, I felt so abandoned.  I couldn't find any sign of my baby boy.   I felt guilty having Owen in my arms.... and I couldn't comfort Owen at all, either.  So I didn't get to be alone with Patric much at all.  Everything was just all wrong.  My other kids looked so grown up next his grave this year.  They were so little when I remember them at the burial.  It makes me so sad to see them sad and to know how their brother's death has changed them.  It was time to leave and of course Owen calms down right away.  But I was so sad because I couldn't feel Chase around me.  I wondered if God was mad at me and wasn't going to let me feel my baby's presence anymore.   This made me more sad.

After a while of silence in the car and once the kids started watching their movie again, I told Patric how I felt, all the while crying.  I mean, why would I expect to feel Chase there at his grave, 7 hours away from where he always is.  He's with us everywhere we go every day.  Why do we need to go all this way to visit him on his birthday/death day?  Of course, how could we not visit his grave is also the question.  I was so confused....and then....all of a sudden Patric turned up the radio.  And we heard it.  Sarah was singing Angel.   And I felt him.  It was like Chase was telling me at that moment, "It's okay, Mom.  You're exactly right, I'm not there at that cemetery.  That's just my body.  I'm with you guys all the time.  See, I'm right here."  And for as long as the song played, I closed my eyes and felt my baby boy.  Thankful for his presence.  And after that I was okay.  Because I knew he wanted me to be okay.  

As a babyloss mom, we are always searching for signs.  Some may call them coincidences or just luck.  But as a babyloss mom, I'll take what I can get.  And I got it yesterday.....I miss you baby boy.  I will never stop loving you and I will never stop thinking of you.  Sweet dreams, little man.  Godspeed.

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.

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.

An emotional journey

Sometimes I forget.  I get so used to these kicks in my growing tummy and feeling them all throughout the day, every day, and I forget that I am the only one who has these constant reminders of this angel that is soon to be gracing our arms, our home, our hearts.  I spent the morning with Emma last Friday in the doctor's office waiting to have a terrible rash of hers  looked at, which turned out to be an allergy.  But I was grateful for the alone time we spent together.  We read, we talked, she watched some TV but mostly we talked.  She was very emotional and I thought this had maybe brought on or aggravated her rash, she was so emotional.  She wanted reassurance, or guarantee, that the baby was going to be fine.  And then she wanted just to talk about Chase.  She didn't want Chase to be forgotten when we brought this baby home.  Chase was/is her little brother.  He reminded us all of her and she was so proud of that.  This was very special to her and she didn't want that to ever go away....even though everything feels so distant the more time passes.   I tried to share with her my experience with this pregnancy....my reassurances, my signs from Chase, my peacefulness, the physical signs, the kicks, the messages that this baby was sending me.  These things I feel constantly.  I wish I could give her all those things that I have that help me feel peace, but I can't.  I put her hand on my tummy and she patiently waited and felt the baby kick and a glow instantly appeared on her face.  I told her that when this baby was born and when she held him in her arms the first time that her heart would heal in so many ways.  I promised her that Chase would be there with us to share that moment and to help her, too, feel that it was OK to love this new little baby like we so badly want to love him, Chase that is.  I want her to feel OK with these emotions like I do, but I forget what it's like to not have any thing to feel to remind me of Chase.  Because I feel him all the time around me with this new little one.  She asked me what if this baby looks a lot different from Chase, are we going to forget him?  I told her this baby needs his own identity.  But he is most certainly, in my opinion, a gift.  A gift that Chase has helped bring us.  And for this reason, Chase is always in our hearts and our minds when we prepare for and bring this baby home.  Which I am most positive that we will.  

But these are things we talk about.  I share my feelings with her in hopes that she, too, will feel some of the same things.  Because the pain is too close to think of this pregnancy any other way.  There are lots of things I am worried about and scared of but I strongly feel that we need to help ourselves get through this waiting part.  I can't even begin to explain how much I love feeling this baby kick me.  It is purely amazing when he is going crazy in there.  With the other 4 pregnancies, I never EVER thought of it the way I do now.  I never appreciated it or loved it or cherished all those movements and "totally bizarre" kicks.  They were just a part of being pregnant.  But now I absolutely adore them.  It is the coolest thing ever and I am so lucky to be carrying this little guy with me every day 24/7.  I can't imagine when he is born and I have to share him with Patric & the kids!  That's sometimes how I feel, honestly.  Not realistic, I know, but I love carrying him right now that much.  I love him that much.  And I can't wait until he is part of us....on the outside, too.  Thank you Chase.  You are my sweet angel, my sweet baby boy.  I love you so much.

Welcome....,my baby boys....

I have great news.  I just did not ever feel the time was right to share it here.  This blog is about our life, our family.  But it has been, for so long, a place for me to grieve--to talk about Chase and what he means to us and how much we miss him.  Because that is what I needed this blog to be.  I see my friends here, hear from them here, share with them here, all of our feelings about missing our babies.  And I understand, now, how BLMs have so much trouble announcing their rainbow pregnancies.  There are so many conflicting emotions, and I have been blogging may way through them over here, if you are interested.  But it is time, now, to officially share our news....Enter....Pearson baby #5, due February 13th:

                                

I can't share this news, however, without including a picture of Chase, too.  He has to be on this post, right there with his little brother.  He is such a big part of this baby.  He is the reason this baby is here.  He has helped carry me this far through this pregnancy, no doubt.  But now there is a new little one to focus on, and that is hard to do, when you know all you really want to do is hold the one that should be here.  

I am so incredibly happy about this pregnancy.  I love this little guy already more than I ever thought possible.  With every kick, every swoosh I feel from him, I feel love.  I am normally not a peaceful, joyous pregnant person, but I have to say that I have enjoyed this pregnancy more with the perspective I have than I ever thought I would.  I have fears, of course.  I am scared out of my mind for what can happen.  But somehow, I have been at peace with all those concerns.  I have felt Chase carrying me, assuring me it's okay to be happy, not to be sad.  There are pangs of guilt, when I see toddlers his age or when I hold his clothes or things that his little brother will now wear instead of him.  But these feelings are overwhelmed by the love I feel for this little one, the joy I have, the anticipation of bringing him home and holding him.  

Saying these things, typing these words, I still painfully miss my little guy.  Even Emma said to me the other day....."Mom, I'm just not sure what I want more.  I really am excited for the baby, but I miss Chase and I don't know if I want the new baby or Chase more.  Because the new baby probably wouldn't be here if Chase was alive."  We all feel it.  The confusion.  The emotion.  The fear.   A million times I have imagined this baby in my arms, carrying him out of the hospital, taking him home.  But a part of me feels that there is a huge gap in there.  The emptiness; a void.  That something is missing in the middle of all this.  And how do you move on from that?  I used to wonder how I could move pass Chase and love a new baby.  How could a mother just move on like that?  It's not something I want to do.  And I don't feel entirely like I am moving on.  I feel like a part of my life stopped when Chase died.  It will always feel that way.  But there is not a bone in my body that won't and doesn't already love this new little baby.  And that is where Chase is helping me.  He is holding my hand & my heart this whole time, letting me know he is here with me, loving me and loving this baby, and that it is ok.  He knows how much I love him.  It is me that can't measure that, making it so hard to be okay with loving someone new now and physically giving that love to this baby instead of Chase.  But he is helping me with that and I am grateful for him.  

So this announcement isn't a typical "We're having a baby!" announcement.  It's more than that.  It's where we are with our grief, where we are with our "new normal."  And it's about Chase still being with us.  I feel in a way he is taking care of his little brother, they are somewhere in the same "place" right now.  And when the time is right, Chase will bring his brother into our world, to hold and love on.  Until then, however, I will love what I cannot hold, with every ounce of my broken heart.

Always like this

It's never a long period of time that passes when I don't read a post on one of my babyloss mom's blogs about a milestone that was reached. A year since the birth, the death, the due date....and I look at my calendar and see 1 year, 4 months 3 weeks and 2 days since Chase went to heaven. I can't believe it has been that long. A year ago I never thought of this day. I was trudging through each day as the sun rose, but I certainly did not have on my mind what my life would be like when Chase had been gone for a year and more. I didn't want to think of that time. I remember feeling like I was drowning because I wanted time to stop and because with each passing day, I felt like he was slipping further and further away from me.

This is the worst feeling, speaking from my experience, as someone who has lost a baby. When there are only so many memories to hold on to, and even fewer sweet, precious moments type of memories, to hold on to the legacy of your little one. There is an immense longing to see my little boy as a toddler. I wonder who he would look like, probably just like his big brother, but I will never know for sure. When I see babies that I suppose are near Chase's age, I always try to guess. First how old they are, then what my baby must look and act like.

I have not had the dreams I thought I would have had by now. I may have dreamt about Chase, though, and not remembered it. I had a dream a few nights ago....one that is fading because it was so.....real.....so...weird.....and so scary once I woke up. I can't remember much of it now but I remember having a baby, that I think was Chase, because it was Chase's age, but I don't remember the face. This baby was in a crib or bassinett or casket, or something, laying there, lifeless. There was another baby tinier, laying in another bed, too, lifeless. I'm sure the older one was Chase, because I had "kept" him. Somehow. Since he died. And eventually, he gasped and started breathing. And I just picked him up and held him and cried. And cried and cried. That's all I remember about my dream. I think the little baby took a breath, too, in my dream. They both "came to life". Right before my eyes. It was a very disturbing dream. I long so dearly to hold my sweet Chase, to feel him moving and hear him and touch him. And I got him back in this dream. I didn't get to "see" him really, I don't remember a face or any details...other than him coming to life finally.....after laying there this whole time....this past year plus. And I don't remember much about the other baby, either. Just that he, too, had started breathing.

And as I checkup on my BLM friends and read their stories, I realize that we are moving on, our lives continue. But then again, we are stuck. In a time when we try to remember our babies. A place where we forever will be.....until we are with them again some day.

I miss Chase as much today as I did the day he left us. I feel differently, my struggles are different, but I still ache for him. I look at his picture every day and though some times I just see the picture, there are other times when I take myself back to that very point in time....trying so hard to remember more than what is in the photograph. Wishing, still, I had more. Because as these days pass, I do feel further away from him. The pain not so sharp, but dull and everlasting. And maybe, maybe some day soon, I'll get a visit from him in a dream I can hold onto.

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.

More than what I was looking for

When I married Patric almost 12 years ago, I didn't just marry him, I married his family. A family who had no kids around, had only boys, and was living in the past (his state high school championship in '85 was relived in every conversation.). This was completely opposite of my family--ok, except for the high school glory days part. I only had sisters and my 2 youngest sisters were still in school and my older sister already had a baby. So we were breaking molds left and right in his family almost as soon as the ring was on my finger.

My mother-in-law, having reared two boys, and both of them having waited to start their own families, was very protective of her baby. I often felt like I was not good enough for their son, but this was mostly my insecurities (I promise!). I was extremely smitten with Patric and blissfully in love, but terribly insecure so I did not deal well with his family conversations which included the names of ex-girlfriends.

This all changed when we had little Emma Jeanne. Our firstborn, who took both her grandmothers' names and won everyone's hearts. Patric's mom had waited painfully long for a grandchild and to have a little girl in the family was icing on the cake. She hopped on a plane and visited us (not easy for someone scared of heights) just a couple weeks after Emma was born and spent several days with us. It was my first time spending real quality time with my mother-in-law and it changed our relationship forever. Shortly after returning home, she wrote us letters which I still have and cherish to this day. I was looking for these letters recently because Emma turned 10 and I intended to commemorate our mother/daughter-in-law relationship by sharing the words she had written to me so many years before.

I found the letters today and never expected to find what I did. The letter literally took my breath away when I read it this time. I had read it several times over the years, but this time it meant something different. I showed Patric and neither of us remembered the names we had chosen for the baby in the boy/girl scenario. I just remembered she was either Emma or Madison and it was really a toss up. I had completely forgotten about the boys' names.

It brought tears to my eyes to read this. Sobs, actually. But it made me feel so incredibly warm inside, too. That Emma could have been our little Chase and how much joy she has brought us....and then how much joy Chase has brought us. My MIL also wrote a letter to Emma at that time and in this letter, my MIL tells Emma:

"You do know, however, at this early age, the "feeling" of love as you are touched and talked to by people who love you more than anything else in this world! You've brought so much happiness already just by coming into this big ole' world!"

This warmed my heart, too. Because I knew that Chase, too, could feel just how much we loved him when he was born. Babies really do just know. He knew so much love while we were in the hospital...by all of us...near and far.

It is amazing, this life of ours. How things change, but really stay the same. I can look at not only Reese and see this little baby boy of ours, but now I can look at Emma, and think so many of the same things. And what is funny is that we really thought just as Karly & Reese look so much alike, that Emma & Chase were bound to as well. You are with us, little man, in so many different shapes and sizes. You are all around us. All the time.

A tough week...

It started out with a dream I had Monday night. I dreamt I had my confrontation with my Dr. and it was horrible. It was painful, I was sobbing and it was a very very unsettling dream. I woke up and couldn't fall back asleep. I checked on all the kids, was worried about them for some reason. It was just an awful night.

Tuesday was a sad day. I don't know why really. Why this day in particular. I was just sad, maybe because of my rough night's sleep. I was just sad that Chase is not here with me doing all this stuff I do every day. I am making a video of Karly of old pictures and home movies--it's going to go in her "time capsule" at school--and the pictures of babies make me miss him so much. It's like seeing exactly what you are missing out on. And I miss baby Karly, too. She's all grown up and it's incredible how fast that happens.

Patric was planning on taking the kids to a youth meeting/praise singing/speaker night. I had no intention of going and was looking forward to getting some things done on the computer and around the house while they were all gone. At the last minute he asked me if I would go with him and pretty much wouldn't let me say no. I got ready and hoped the evening would go fast...for a few reasons.

After we ate, they started the band off with a prayer and the woman leading it said, among other things, "tonight will change someone's life here" and those words echoed in my head. I don't remember anything else she said and wondered how that could happen, mostly thinking about the adolescents around me but also thinking if that was possible for me.

The girls loved the music but Reese not so much so I went outside with him. We found his football in the car so he was suddenly a happy boy getting to run around outside and play. We were not alone...a young mother was out on the deck with her baby girl. I am a pretty good guess at babies ages, go figure, and expected her to be around one. Indeed, she turned one last Wednesday, her mom said. That would be 2 days after Chase's due date. I watched her wiggle in her mama's arms and my eyes started getting wet. I realized she was wiggling around so she could watch Reese and it made me smile and get sadder all at the same time. I asked her name and it was Faith. Hmm. Mom was just as cute as Faith was. I told her about the kids and wanted to tell her about Chase....but I didn't want to tell her about him because I didn't want to scare her. She is young and Faith is her first, I didn't want her to know about what can happen.

But then I asked if I could hold Faith. And I did. I was smiling through tears that wouldn't stop. It was so nice to hold her, she was as cute as a button. And I told her mom that Reese has a little angel brother the same age as Faith and I was sorry but couldn't keep my tears in this time. Having a one-year-old on my hip felt so natural. It felt like it was supposed to feel, but it didn't make me feel better about anything. It didn't make it easier, it didn't make any pain go away, it didn't make me think about Chase any less. It just felt right. I was so nervous about asking to hold the baby that I barely got a chance to enjoy it. I didn't know how I would act in this situation, though I had thought about it many times. I gave her back after just a couple minutes and I can hardly explain how I felt ... other than to say it felt like something was lifted from me. I felt clear of mind, fresh, new, okay with a lot of things--though I'm not sure of exactly what. I want Chase so badly, I will never feel differently about that. But I love babies, too. And it's okay to love babies even though Chase is not here. I don't feel guilty about that. I miss him, but I don't feel guilty and maybe I was afraid I would.

So I am thankful for the three kids I have in my arms. I am thankful for the one angel baby I have. And I am thankful that Faith's mom didn't think I was crazy for crying as I held her precious 1-year-old. I feel Chase around me all the time. I know he was there with me helping me through that moment and will be there for so many more.

Disolutions

It's hard to believe we are a  year out...not only of our tragedy....but moreso from Chase's birthday.  He would be walking around by now.... following everybody all over the place....trying to get in on the action.  Today I could nearly see him.  The kids were all in the kitchen after school.  At least 2 of them were talking to me at once.  And for some reason, I could see Chase right there in the middle of them...or off to the side maybe.  But definitely in the mix.  And it never seems like a lot of kids now.  Before we had Chase, I would have thought, "wow, 4 kids, that's alot".  Not now.  There is such a hole where he should be.  

I was stricken with guilt today.  I realized that he is not at the forefront of my mind when I'm running around busy in the day-to-day hustle.  It's not like the other 3.... I don't feel guilty when I am busy with things and don't think about them all the time.  Some days not until it's time to pick them up.  THey are never far from my thoughts, as is Chase, but I don't feel guilty about it.  Because I can see them and give them a squeeze and a kiss and tell them I love them.  I can't do that with Chase.  I talk to him.  I told him I was sorry today for not thinking about him and promised him I would never forget him and that I missed him so terribly much.  But it didn't make the guilt go away.  I want him here so bad I can't stand it.  Sometimes I feel like I don't know what to do anymore than I did the day he died.  I do my best to steer clear of little ones....not because I want to....but because I don't know if I should or not.   I'm afraid of what feelings would surface.  Feelings I want only for Chase and am determined to save for him still.   

How I wish you were here sweet boy.  How I wish you could watch your big brother play his first season of Tball....and go fishing with daddy....and be read to by Emma...and fussed over  by Karly.  How I wish I could just hold you in my arms....
Loving you always,

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.

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.

Not in the mood

We took the kids to Albuquerque this weekend to watch Walking with Dinosaurs. We went to the Children's Museum and thought we might catch the zoo, too, but the weather had other plans for us. Instead, before heading home we stopped at the mall to take care of some exchanges we needed to make and one of them was in GapKids.

I didn't need to go in BabyGap, we were strictly in the kids' side but the checkout counter is the divider between the two stores. There were so many cute things that kept catching my eye and I always wonder what I would be stealing from the budget to buy Chase from these kinds of stores. I wanted to be sad that I didn't shop in babyGap anymore because my kids are too big for it. I wanted to be sad that I didn't shop there because Reese refuses to "dress up" in jeans and anything with buttons. But I don't get that privilege. I hate that I don't shop in that store because I can't bear the site of the things I should be showing off my baby boy in. I hate that I don't have a reason to shop there because my son is gone. Standing in that store, looking at those things is torture to me. And what is worse, I did this to myself, I snatched a super soft, tiny stuffed blue elephant at the counter as the clerk was checking me out and asked her if I could buy that, too. As luck would have it, it had no price tag. Of course she couldn't look on the other tags of the same brand of animals to see that it was $5.50. She had to look at every book behind the counter to find the right "number" for it. And when she couldn't find it, she had to call her manager to look through the same books only then to go to the "back" to see if they had any more back there with the tag on it. We stood there for probably 20 minutes waiting but I had to have this elephant. I wasn't exactly sure why. I used to always buy these little stuffed animals from Gap when the kids were babies. They were just the right size for them to hold as babies and for some reason lovely to chew/suck on. Gross, I know, but this elephant reminded me of that. It reminded me of my babies that have grown up. It also reminded me of my baby that would never grow up. I had to have it and standing there waiting for the stupid clerk to find the right number was like twisting the knife that has been stuck in my heart for 11 months and a day now. Especially when she looked at Karly and asked who it was for. I guess she didn't hear her when Karly asked me if it was for Chase and if we were going to send it up to him in heaven on a balloon. And then, as the timing was impeccable, the "funeral home guy" calls to tell me the proof for the monument is in. Lovely. While I'm busy wasting time with a @*$&# clerk buying a stupid $5 toy for my son whose headstone is waiting for my approval to be carved. Tears welled up in my eyes but I couldn't leave without my baby's soft toy.

Just weeks away from Chase's birthday. I can't even explain how sad this is. That time is going so fast and that our littlest Pearson is not here to share it with us.

I learned something new today

...about my youngest son. I was making these foot molds out of his foot imprint (trying to negate the negative....wish I could do that with life) because that's all I have. After working for a good 20 minutes with the molding compound, I was able to make 2 little feet out of it without too much difficulty. I have no knowledge of clay or this kind of stuff so I was kind of winging it. So I baked the molds for a little while and then set them to cool on the counter. A little while later I picked them up to see how well they dried and that's when I noticed it.

I have these deformed pinky toes on both my feet. It's something my lovely mother passed down to me and her lovely mother passed down to her. I have been self-concsious of these pinky toes of mine my entire life. So much so, I guess, that with each baby I birthed, this was one of the first things I did after counting all fingers and toes...I examined their pinky toes to make sure they didn't get mine!

I never did that with Chase. Too many things on my mind. Nevermind the state of shock I was in his entire life with us. But I never looked at his piggies and wondered if he got "mine". We took off his socks and rubbed his feet but I was pretty much busy worrying about other things than his vanity for his own pinky toes when he grew older.

Today, when I examined the mold I made of his left foot imprint, I noticed almost too clearly, that it looks like he had my pinky toe on his left foot. As far as I can tell anyway. I wished I would have taken more photos of him before the blood products and medications had changed him. I wished I had pictures of every little crease and dimple on him I wish I knew him as well as I do my other children. But when you only have 3 days to love and touch and talk and sing to him, you don't really think about those kinds of things. You don't think to capture every moment and photograph every ounce of his tiny little body so that you will forever have that tucked away in your keepsake boxes. Because you are busy thinking about when you will get to bring him home. You are busy worrying about his kidneys and his liver and his heart and his brain to even get to appreciate the fact that he actually has your toes.

I miss you little man. You can thank me for your little piggies when I get up there but I am so happy you have a part of me with you. And since they remind me of you, I will love my ugly toes forever and ever.

xoxo

Still here

I miss him so badly. I look at his pictures and I feel him like I am still losing him--in a different way. I look at the pictures and I have them memorized. But as time passes, I have to try harder to see those moments in action....moving, not just still shots in my mind, but his life with us. Those moments. The tragedy. In moving, real life action. Because if I don't try to recall those things, it feels like these are just pictures. Pictures of something that happened...but no memory. I have several different snapshots of him that don't even look like the same baby. I have my favorite photo...the perfect gerber baby face, plus a few tubes and medical leads. But I also have photos of him that aren't so hot. And as my jaded memory slips further away, and I realize what really happened....I see it in these pictures. The magnitude of what happened, how he was born and how lifeless he must have looked in the isolette while the doctor and nurses were working and him. And all that can change my view of what all happened. Maybe we were unrealistically hopeful, despite those words from the doctor that echoed in my brain, "babies are remarkably resilient and often times surprise us...." And he most certainly was as healthy as an ox. That's the one thing I do know.

Almost as accurate as my internal clock is this one particular wave of grief that happens about every 30 days. Hormones, maybe, psychological, maybe. But it's that huge cloud of darkness that just looms over me and I can almost feel the weight of it, physically. So that's where I'm at. Hurting. Like it was yesterday. And no, I don't think it gets easier. I think you learn how to deal with it, yes. But the pain doesn't lessen. That's why there are graves at the cemetery with fresh flowers every week for a baby that died 50 years ago. The focus of the pain shifts from different aspects of the situations that occurred. I may be consumed with a particular moment of his life, before he was born or after, what is still to come, but it all hurts the same. None of it is ever going to change. The pain is never going to go away. I am never going to be ignorant of this feeling or free from it. And that is why learning to live this way, learning to fight the battles I must fight this way, learning to go after my goals and dreams with this in my heart is making me a much stronger person. It's like fighting a battle with one arm and winning and that's what I'm going to continue to do. That's the mom Chase would be proud of.

Emotions...and places I won't go

I have rarely known emotions to have such a physical feeling until I lost Chase. Winning games, falling in love, getting married, I guess. But this is different. I can feel the dark cloud coming over me in my heart and when my head realizes this, it almost feels like a weight being laid on my back. Sometimes I try to meet it head on and work my way through it. Sometimes it overtakes me and I don't do anything about it but cry. Like every night I go to sleep. I thank Chase often, for showing me things about myself and Patric and the kids that I never knew before. Like how strong we all are or exactly how much love we have for each other. And also for teaching me about people and relationships and what a true friend really is. I can only imagine what he could have taught people along the way if he were here with on this earth.

So when I laid in bed last night, on my left side, I remembered Chase being there. Now I know him as Chase, but then, it was "baby". I thought it was so cool that I got to be with him all the time. It was so cool that he was attached to me....a part of me. A part of his daddy that I got to love, talk to, and hold whenever I wanted (not that I had a choice!). I think of that everytime I lay on my left side. And I feel him there. I wished I would have hugged him more, though maybe I did. He was so active and I had my hands on my belly most of the time. But now I want more. I was so lucky to carry him for those 9 months. I knew that then but I really know that now. I miss you so much I feel you, buddy. You are always a part of me, always, always with me....

***

I found my ultrasound pictures yesterday. They were from my 20 week appointment and there were several. In one of the profiles, his little arm is bent in front of his face at 90 degrees and it is so perfect and so big! You can actually see his muscles--he has little biceps and deltoids and it is so cute. After I found them, I kept looking. I looked in all sorts of hiding places (places I don't ever clean for some reason) for something. I don't know what I was looking for but I kept looking. I went through his dresser and his onesies are all there, most of them yellow but a few blue sports ones because my mom and my sisters knew he was a boy. I stared at his crib and all the cards, pictures, letters, books and momentos from his birth. Sometimes I read through them, sometimes I can't. I don't know what I was hoping to find. Something new, I guess. I don't want it to get old. I don't want to get used to the fact that I have a dead son. I want to keep something fresh. Something new. But I can't.

There are moments of his birth and his life and thereafter that I don't talk about to anyone, including myself. I don't write about it anywhere. And I don't really even let myself think about. I have read other babyloss mamas' words and have commented a few times about these moments or thoughts I have had, but I don't go there too deep. I have not felt ready and I am not sure when I will be. But reading their words makes me think that I will need to do that, too. Sometime. There are a lot of tears in those moments that I don't let myself recall. There is a lot of pain there. I don't want to go there yet I'm starting to feel that this is all I have left. There will be nothing more after that for me to "find" or learn about Chase. And I don't know what I will find talking, writing, or thinking about those moments. But one day, I'll be ready.

Dark Times

Oh my....I'm back to my blog for therapy, once again. Journalling in this space has been sometimes the only thing that relieves my mind, gives me comfort. Once I purge onto this screen, I can rest my thoughts or shift to something else. I can release the burdens of what is going on in my head--and in my heart. My last post was a huge vent for me. And I received some of the most supportive, helpful comments and emails from this community. The words I read after I posted affected me in ways that I wonder if you have any idea what you did for me. But then I know that I have read your blogs and left comments, trying to help you along...because that's what we do. And I know you do know that you have touched me. Because you know. You know this awful road I am on. And you know all the obstacles, the diversions, the temptations, the hills and the valleys. So thank you. Thank you for being there and helping me through that moment and getting me past it. I took your advice and I held back. FB has not even been a temptation anymore. So, whew! It feels good to have it behind me.

I have really been in a dark place. Last week was really, really hard. Thankfully this week has been better. What is my "dark place?" Deep, deep sadness. Regrets. Wondering what ifs. Wishing... Missing.... Longing.... Hurting.... And withdrawing. I have really pulled myself in since that last post. I have not reached out to anyone. I have not had any contact with anyone, really, but my family. I know everyone else has moved on. I realized that my problems are not their problems. I wanted them to be and I wanted that kind of support....like it was their problem. But it's not. And I can't expect...or ask that of anyone. Life does go on--for them. Unless you have suffered this loss, there is no way of knowing. I would not want to know...I really wouldn't. I wish I didn't.

But life goes on for them, while mine is spiralling. Still, after nearly 10 months, I think about what happened every day. Several times a day. Every night, still, I go to sleep thinking about the day I had Chase. I think about the doctor. A lot. I wish I could have gotten inside his head. And what's worse, I wish I still could. It bothers me. I wish I could move past it, but I can't. It surrounds me. Daily I am faced with him, or some small degree of separation from him. In a small town I can't remove myself from his presence. And I can't face him. I feel like I need to meet him head on and talk to him. But I can't. He won't. It will never happen. No closure, no answers, no story. And for that I am labeled. By whom, I guess, is irrelevent. Because as I have said, I've withdrawn. That's the only way to protect my physical, emotional and mental well-being. I get the peace I seek from my family. I did have lunch with a friend this week and I really enjoyed it. She came to me, of course, and I am thankful for that. But what she doesn't know is how badly and why I needed that contact. I'm human. I am woman, for pete's sake. So as much as I would like to shut everyone out, I can't. I don't need much, but I do need a little. But the vast majority I am surrounded by can't provide that. She did, though, and I needed it.

But I don't look, act, or even feel, like the recluse I have described. I can tell that I have withdrawn, but I don't feel like a standout. I have the facade that we all know so well going on. I smile and converse and move on. But the tears are right there under the surface. A lot of phone calls this week about stuff we still need to take care of...and I talk, even laugh because it's the only way I know to get this thing done when you know the funeral home director personally, but wonder if they know that underneath that normal-sounding, jovial voice is an ocean of tears. Just waiting to hang up the phone so I can let them go.

So there is still a lot of pain. We talk of Chase daily with the kids. He even has a Mii so Reese can blay baseball with him on the Wii, morbid maybe to some but we love it. But there is not a moment that goes by that I don't think of him either being here with us, his things I still have in the house, the formula in the cupboard, the hospital I drive by all the time and the tragic events that took place there. And it has sent me in this very dark direction on my path. My heart litterally feels heavy sometimes with the sadness that I bear. I miss him so badly. He is growing up fast and he's not even here. I can't believe he'd be almost 10 months already. He was such a sweet, sweet boy and we would have been such a happy family. I remember being so unsure if we wanted to have another baby or not and then we got pregnant with Chase and were so excited to add on and complete us. Now I know that having a baby would be truly a blessing but I will never, never feel we are complete. I feel like my hands are tied. I can't fix it this time. And that is what hurts. It always will. I'm not sure what our family will be...but I know what it won't have. Because we will always miss him. He will always be a part of us, but never here.

Onward I push. With my family. We are strong, we are together, and we will live our lives with pride, joy and love. We pull each other along when one of us needs a little help. I am so thankful for that. They are who bring me out of the darkness that I seem to fall into. Chase, too. I cry for him, but I also smile about him. I love you, little man. While you are with us and we include you in everything we do, I still miss you every moment of my day.