She's the Tough One

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Honest Scrap Award

I've been given an Honest Scrap award by Kristy at I Love You To The Moon and Back. Thank you, Kristy, for comforting me with your supporting comments on my blog and sharing your thoughts and story for other grieving mothers to relate.

This award is for bloggers who write honestly from their heart, from the depth of their soul. There are some simple rules to accept this award. Firstly, pass the award on to 7 other bloggers and secondly, list 10 honest and hopefully interesting things about yourself.

SO, I pass on the Honest Scrap award to the following bloggers:

Tina at Living Without Sophia and Ellie

Heather at Two in Heaven, One on Earth

Franchesca at Handprints from Heaven

CLC at Please Give Me Back My Heart

Kristy at Have You Seen My Sanity

Rachel at Three Butterflie and a Monkey

Sarah at Footprints of Angels

10 things about me...

1. I like to make jewelry in my spare time but never had any luck selling it. Don't seem to have much spare time to do it, anyway.

2. I tried out for a WNBA team in the league's inagural year. (Of course I didn't make the team or I most definitely would have mentioned that part, too.)

3. In my life before kids, I hunted, fished and enjoyed the great outdoors with my husband. Now, I choose to take care of the kids and spend time with my sisters while he does that stuff with my dad.

4. I took up running in 5ks and 10ks competitively about 7 years ago and had some goals left unattained. I haven't competed since I got pregnant with Chase and though I have started running again, not sure if I will ever compete again. Can't really explain it, but I just don't want to. Something has changed in me that doesn't spark that desire anymore.

5. I learned in my 30s that family is the most important thing in my life and always will be. Friends that are true friends will gladly take second place and will then and only then, understand me.

6. I also learned in my 30s that marriage is hard work....but worth every second of it. There were some rocky roads along the way, but about a year before Chase was born, we became rock solid. When Chase died, though our lives were shattered, our marriage would only become stronger. I am so very thankful for having Patric by my side throughout this entire journey.

7. I love to take cooking classes but struggle to cook at home. I don't like to follow recipes. AND I love to bake.

8. I do not enjoy watching TV for the most part but my favorite thing to do is watch a movie in the movie theater with my kids and huz.

9. My favorite thing in the world is a picnic with my kids.

10. I love pizza--especially in Chicago!

August Secret Garden Meeting

The Secret Garden is "...our garden, our secret place to come to. A place to remember our children with those who understand us. It is a place to just be, without worry or fear of not being accepted. " The last Friday of each month questions are posted on the site for those of us who have suffered such grief to think about, write about, read the thoughts of others and post on our own blogs.

If you created a bedroom for your baby tell us what it was like.Did you have it ready for them before they were born?If so how did you cope coming home to it without your baby?Did you pack it all away?What is your baby's room now?If you lost your baby after they had come home what is it like going into there room now?If you are trying to conceive again, or are pregnant again how do you feel about setting up another room before your baby is born?

I was about 27 weeks along when we prepared for our little one. Our master bedroom is pretty big and I had the crib in there when Reese was born and until he turned 3. We moved him into his own room where he finally slept in his own bed (he slept with us most of the time anyway) and when we did this, we put the crib away, figuring we'd get it back out when we needed it again. Only about 8 months passed and, yey!, it was time to get it out again. I had ordered bedding a couple weeks before so I was getting anxious to get it set up. We set up the dresser and crib and actually cleaned our entire bedroom. The kids were excited, I was excited, dad was excited. I had a few onesies and sleepers that I had kept from Reese that I had in the drawers. The kids and I painted canvases that matched the colors from the crib bedding and hung them above the crib. I looked at a glider/rocker but could not make the leap to actually buy it. About a month before I was due, I had started buying and receiving a few outfits and things here and there but I was always insistent upon not over-buying. I had done that in the past and did not want to have an over abundance of things in the drawer. I had even told my friends who threw me a baby shower that I only wanted diapers--I did not need other stuff because if it was a boy, I had it packed away from Reese's things and if it was a girl, I'd want to buy pink things anyway. There was something inside me that did not want to celebrate too early, either. Just because I had 2 (early) miscarriages and I just wasn't sure everything was going to be okay. I just wish I had understood the depth of what I was feeling. I was worried something might go wrong, but I had never considered death and what that was and what it would feel like and what it would mean. It was really strange and this is not the post to bring that up in!

Anyway, yes the room was completely ready. Down to the baby bath and baby lotion. Did I pack it all away.......No.

When I was transfered to Albuquerque (on Wednesday), the community reached out to us like we never expected. So many people were there to do whatever we needed whenever we needed it. To help with our kids, the house, anything. The kids stayed at my MIL's but Thursday we woke up and checked on Chase in teh NICU and I knew only ONE thing for certain: I wanted my kids, my living kids, in my presence, in my arms. I couldn't hold Chase, I needed them to hold to get me through this. I knew not what would happen with Chase, but I knew I needed the kids. Patric agreed and friends arranged to get them to us. The community continued to reach out....flowers, prayers, phone messages, hundreds of texts, even a messenger with money they collected for our expenses. Chase lived until Friday afternoon. News traveled fast and I don't remember exactly when, but Patric's mom told him that some friends had come into our house, stocked the fridge and freezer with food and removed the crib and all baby things. I was speechless. I didn't know what to think, I didn't know what to say. I didn't know anything at this point. I couldn't even grasp what I did know: my baby boy was gone. It took me all of about 10 minutes (really, I have absolutely no concept of time on that Friday afternoon) to decide that having the crib gone was most definitely NOT what I wanted. In fact, I wanted it back and I wanted it back now. To this day, I don't know what was done in my house, but when I walked in Saturday evening, my baby room-slash-master bedroom was exactly as I had left it. I was shocked. I was shocked that my friends would do that, that they would think that was what I wanted. But what impressed me more about my friends, was that they put it back. All of it. Just the way I had it and they did that for me. Out of love, out of friendship, out of compassion. No one knows how they will react when something like this happens to them. And no one knows how they will react when someone dear to them has this happen to them...whether it's a sister, a daughter, a cousin,, a friend. I am not mad that they did what they did. It was something that I don't think I would have done, but I've never been in their shoes. I've never wanted so badly to take away pain and hurt from someone's life that I will do anything to try to help. I am so blessed to have friends that care so much about me and my family. This is something I will never forget.

As for the future, I am planning on leaving the baby stuff out....for a while....I am not ready to put it away. I am not ready to say that I am ready to live without it. I hope and pray that it will be used again one day soon. And that in it will be another one of our little miracles.

The Struggle, Part I of ???

I am struggling these days, with my faith, and often I am comforted from reading my fellow baby loss moms' blogs. I have been relieved many times to run across a blog of a mother who struggles with finding answers on this journey we are on. Not because I want her to struggle or I want her to even be on this journey, but because I know I am not the only one feeling and thinking the way that I do. There are some who are very strong in their faith and are using it to survive their grief. There are some who have modified their beliefs to fit how they view their loved one(s) in the afterlife. And there are some who simply have too many questions to understand or trust in something that would justify the tragedy of losing a child.

My comfort comes from knowing that there are others who feel the same as I do. Even though I feel guilty for my faltering faith, I feel as though I am not alone. I have been told that I will need Him to get through this and that those who have God in their lives survive this sort of thing while those who do not, sink into a hole they can never quite get out of. I do try to go to church. I respect my church community and am grateful for them and their support. But every Sunday when I walk in there and sit in those pews, with my empty arms and a hole in my heart, I struggle. I struggle to see past the tiny casket that was so beautifully displayed right there in front of me with our baby peacefully resting inside it. So many people walk on ice not knowing what to say to me, some not saying anything, some speaking, but in words I can not comprehend some times. I tear up at things that relate to me in ways no one else would or could possibly understand.

Sometimes a person's frankness on topics hurts. Such is the case with a lady I have been talking to about a headstone for Chase's grave. I had asked for something specific and she said she can do it but suggested something quite different instead that she not only thinks I will like and will look very pretty but it will also work better in the cemetery we have buried him in. She does not have a website so I cannot see a sample of what she is talking about. She tells me, though, that a black stone (which I prefer) will "show the dirt out there much the same way that a black car does when it gets dirty." Wow. I never thought of it that way. I never thought of a black head stone and a black car and compared the two. I guess because I have never really thought about a black head stone before. She was a really nice, well-intentioned lady but I cried and cried as soon as I got her off the stupid phone.

People do not mean to be hurtful. But you can only try so hard to be sensitive to someone's tragedy and when it comes right down to it, unless you've felt what they feel, or know what they know, you just will never understand. I was told in church this morning, "if there is ever anyone who needs prayers, it's a preacher who is starting a new church!!" Again, wow. That blows me away. And I'm pretty sure that clearly illustrates my lack of faith right now. But in my mind losing a child is the hardest thing that someone could go through. I suppose that is my opinion and there are others who would disagree.

In my prayers this morning, I tried to pray for God to hold Chase and give him a hug for me. But I couldn't finish my request. Because I want to be holding Chase. I don't want anyone else holding him. I have never left my kids, as babies, in the care of someone other than their grandmothers. So for the most part, I have always been the first one my child sees when waking up from their naps, the one to kiss their boo-boos, the one they run to when they are scared. They have never gone to a day care or babysitter where someone else does these things for them and this has always been something that I have been very, very thankful for. I would get jealous if I saw someone else comforting my child this way. And that is how I feel about God. I am jealous of him or Jesus, or the angels, or whomever is getting to hold my Chase in Heaven right now. I am finding it very hard to trust in them and want them to love him. Because to me, they are strangers. I know that is completely wrong to think that way and it will surely send me spiralling down into that deep hole, but that's how I feel. I don't "know" God, not the way that I should, not in a way that I can trust him to take care of my son for me. This might be the way that I will get to know him, who knows. But I have to think of Chase and what is best for him. And what is best for me. I know Chase doesn't want me to be so lost. And I know my little man wants me to know that he is okay. But to come to peace with what all of that means is what I am searching for on this journey. So reading the stories of those who have lost babies will continue to give me comfort. I will continue to look to them and their faith and maybe someone will see my struggle as one they are having as well and feel comforted, too.

Big Brother's Questions

Reese is my sunshine. He can do no wrong right now. His sisters have been off to school, so in their absense, he has been an angel. He gets mom and dad all to himself! Yes, we have to work, our peak is approaching, but in a month, we'll be past it and have lots of free time. In the mean time, Reese goes along for the ride, running errands with mom, short trips with dad, or entertains himself in between all this. He's there to snuggle at bedtime (all of the kids were great snugglers--I'm so lucky). And he jumps in the car with his PJs on to take the girls to school. This last year before he goes to school I will be counting the minutes. Each precious minute that I get to spend with him before he is off to kindergarten and forever changed. My least favorite day ever? The first day of kindergarten--I hate sending them off!

Anyway, Reese talks about Chase, his little Maverick, with smiles and happy thoughts. I have been concerned about each of my kids with this loss. How they are handling it, what they think about, are they comfortable talking about him, how I am treating them in my grief, how they feel...But a four-year-old is harder to read. I don't know how this will affect him the rest of his life. I don't know what he remembers or what he perceives. I know he hears us talk about things, a lot of things, that I know he doesn't always understands. But I don't know what he takes away from all of that.

I have an enlarged photo hanging up of Chase right next to my bed. It's my favorite photo of him. I also have our family picture in the hospital with Chase hanging there and a shadow box with some of Chase's things. I see it and talk to it every night before I go to bed. Since Reese has been sleeping in our bed, he sees it there, too. Sometimes he stops to look at it, sometimes he doesn't. Last night, he crawled up on the bed and when I walked into the room, he had been sitting there looking at it with tears in his eyes. He asked me, "why didn't I get to hold Chase, mom?"

Oh, god. My tears, immediately, welled up. I sat down and talked to him. I pointed to the family picture and showed him, "Baby, you were sleeping. You had a really bad headache, do you remember that?" When we all got to hold Chase right before the tubes were removed, I could not get Reese to wake up. He had felt warm as soon as he got to the NICU with his sisters. He was extremely tired, the room we were sitting in next to Chase's was really warm, and Reese fell asleep. I tried and tried to wake him up to say good-bye to his brother, but it wasn't meant to be. I didn't want to force him to wake up and have him be cranky and really mad. Patric brought him into the room and held him on his lap while I held Chase and the girls knelt beside me so we could get a picture with everybody. But Reese wouldn't wake up. It was one of those ten million things that I didn't know what to do that day. What was I supposed to do? Would someone just tell me, us, what to do? So I didn't wake him up. Patric had taken him in to see Chase before that and said it was okay. He told he me said his good-bye. So that's what we did.

When I told Reese about that moment, he cried. From his gut. He cried like he hadn't ever cried for Chase. He was so sad. I held him and cried with him.

I had made the each of the kids their own hardcover book of photos from snapfish and had yet to present them yet. I didn't know when or how I wanted to do this very special event. But I knew I wanted to do each of them separately. The books are somewhat similar, but have a slightly different storyline pertinent to each sibling and they are authored from Chase's perspective of his siblings. I told Reese I had something very special for him and I would be right back.

Reese absolutely loves books and I hadn't thought about this until he saw me bring the book in. It was instantaneously something very special to him. He loved seeing himself on the book's cover! I went through each picture and read every page as he laughed, cried, reminisced with me and cried some more. We talked about Chase and what he had to look forward to. We talked a lot about mommy going into the hospital that morning to have Chase and how each kid jumped out of bed in their excitement at 6:30 in the morning to await the arrival of their new sibling. We talked about seeing mommy in the hospital and why I looked the way I did (yuck!). He looked at my scar (again) and asked how Chase came out of there. He told me he wanted me to have another baby in my tummy and asked me, "will it die, too, mom?" I told him, no, babies don't normally die, but he doesn't know that. All he knows is Chase died, so babies must die. So we talked about organs and how they work and why Chase was so sick when he got to Albuquerque. We talked about how he felt about me in the hospital and what was going on with me. We talked about the day at G's house while mom and Chase were in the hospital and about the friends that brought him to Albuquerque for us so we could all be together again. I don't know if I did the right things. But if anything, I err on the side of honesty with my kids. I would rather try to explain to them in words they can understand than to take the easy way out and brush over the topic or give fake answers.

We read the book again and snuggled under the covers, each with our "Chase blankeys". I hugged mine real tight, put my arm around my earth angel and fell asleep with my nose on his face. Something I am so thankful that I can do.