On the Eve of September

I've been waiting for September.  When I changed my calendar to August, I suddenly became keenly aware of time.  Much like I felt nine years ago.  No babies in August? That must mean they'll have a September birthday.

Is it because its been nearly a decade? Is it because yet again I have twins (now boys) in my classroom?

I don't know.

But for whatever reason I have been anticipating September and dreading its arrival.

And for that I feel torn.  I should welcome the month I became a mother.  I should be celebrating my sweet Jonasen and all that he is, but I always feel the heaviness of September and perhaps it is something he can now see.

Today we found Joe by himself, sitting in the corner.  This is not like him and for us we felt it was some sort of attention seeking thing.  When we tried to pry out of him what it was he was sulking about he said, "I just don't feel special."

It was almost laughable.

My husband and I looked at each other wondering what in the world he could possibly be talking about. Whether serious or not we started listing all the things that make him special but because we were in 'teasing' mode we said, "Well it's not because... and would say a reason he was special." We followed this up with tickles and hugs and kisses.  We got him back.

He got his smile back.

That felt good.

Joe ran errands with me and I felt that all was well.

That is until he got in trouble (not picking something up) and suddenly he brought me a note asking me who he was special to... why he was special...

sigh.

Is this normal?

Did I do something wrong?

I told him I think it's ridiculous that he EVER doubt that he is special~

But... because it's nice to get a nice note, I decided to write him.

Dear Joey,

My heart hurts that you would ever for a moment doubt that you are special.  Perhaps I am not a good mom to you and I am not doing my job. The fact that you would ever doubt how special you are or not feel my love, tells me that I am doing something wrong.

I don’t think that I could ever fit into one letter all the ways that you are special but I will write some down because for some reason that is what you feel you need.

1. You are special because you were born and because you lived. That in itself is a miracle and makes you crazy special!
2. You are special because you were named after the Jonasens who were amazing people and changed my life.
3. You are special because you made me a better person.
4. You are special because you have an amazing love of books and you remember things that you read (I do not).
5. You are special because I don’t know many kids that can eat an entire can of ravioli and still have more if their mom would let them.
6. You are special because you make other people feel special and cheer them on.
7. You are special because you have a laugh that can make other people laugh with you.
8. You are special because you have rhythm (and trust me, not everyone has that... You will score points with the ladies one day).
9. You are special because you are the only boy in this family with brown eyes (and I’m the only girl).
10. You are special because people around the world know your name and your story and think you are amazing even though they’ve never talked to you.
11. You are special because you don’t see skin color.
12. You are special because you can recognize when someone is making a bad choice and try to make it better.
13. You are special because you love to draw and read books (which most kids don’t like so much... sadly).
14. You are special because you would rather have water (some days) than pop.
15. You are special because you can drop your fishing line in the water and fish seem to jump out of the water to get to you.
16. You are special because your brothers and sister adore you and always want to be around you... probably the reason for the nightly sleepovers all summer long.
17. You are special because you talk to God, and He hears you.
18. You are special because you have a creative mind and soul.  You are always making things and creating things and not everyone can do that.
19. You are special because you saved me.  It was YOU that got me out of bed those mornings when I didn’t think I could. You taught me love can exist where pain is and that there is nothing in this world that is better than being your mom.  You were the rainbow I saw through the storm and you will NEVER know how much I love you.
20. You are special because your dad and the rest of your family and friends could write a list just as long (and longer) about the reasons you are special and they could all be totally different and entirely true!

I am running out of room on this paper but please don’t ever tell me you’re not special again.  If you want to hear the reasons I love you, ask. But NEVER tell me you’re not special again. It hurts me. God doesn't make mistakes.  He made you for a reason and those reasons are many.

~All my love,

Mom

And then I started to pause (as I often do) and wondered all the ways he would have been special... That boy that was born first, a minute before Joe.  I wondered what I would have written him.  I wonder what would have been on his list.  I wonder what his smile would have looked like as his dad and I teased and tickled HIM! 

And I was reminded, I'll never have that list.  Just a dream. Sometimes if I close my eyes, I can still see two.

***I should now add that Joe gave me a big hug, and promised me that if he ever wants to hear the reasons I love him, he will ask... but he will NEVER tell me he's not special again (we'll see...).

Pieces

Sometimes it's like you're hiding behind your glasses.  You go through the motions of  your day, you smile at the correct times but inside you're a mess and the days go by and the calendar moves and you are stuck.  I used to feel like I was in slow motion watching as everyone whizzed around me, not even noticing I was there. I could blend. Disappear.

I'm a good chameleon.
I always have been.

I can put a smile on my face and you would never know the hurt underneath.  You'd never know that I still wince inside when I see twins or even hear the word, catch my breath when someone calls out, "Andrew!" or stop and stare when I see blond pigtails in the distance that could have been her's.

It' doesn't really matter that it's been almost nine years. I still pause~ it's always right there, right below the surface and it's hard. Talking with a friend whose scars are a little more fresh and have not had the time to scab over, I gave her permission. Permission to still be sad.  Still be hurt. Still be mad. Sometimes you need to take off the glasses and just cry.

Those things don't go away.  They can soften but that scab can be ripped off in a moment and you find there on your knees wondering... why???????

There is a song I love called Pills. It reminds me of so many days when I wasn't Okay. I wasn't okay but no one really knew. I would look around at all the people and wonder what's there? What's right there underneath the skin that is keeping them up at night? I used to feel so alone and then I realized that we're all here, walking around with a brokenness about us, just trying to pick up the pieces and put them back into their jagged places. But sometimes once they've broken they just won't fit the way they used to~

Thinking of you and wishing you peace.

The Butterflies~ September

The butterflies are out.
The bush is hideous! It looks like an overgrown weed and yet I look forward to its growing each year because I know they'll come~ and they always do.  Is it the butterflies?

My children run in the yard, they ride their bikes, they laugh, but I note the butterflies that dance around them.  My eyes stay on them and try to will them to stay.  To stick around. To dance with them just a little longer.

The butterflies.

It's the time of year when I look up and at him, or catch his laugh and I pause and wonder... what if? Why does it hit me like this?  There is no rhyme or reason?  Is it the butterflies?

Or is it the knowledge that September is coming... A flip of the calendar and it will be here again.  Another September 15th will come and it will be another year since I held his little body in my arms, kissed him goodbye. Another year.

Time.

My friend.

My Enemy.

Time gave me ways~ ways to deal with missing him~ ways to feel my tears coming and understanding that they would stop. Time was my friend.  It gave me moments to pause and think of him.  All the good he's done.  All the lives he's changed.  Time.  Time to say his name.  Andrew.

Oh but time... Another day is another day away from you.  Away from that day that I held you in my arms and smelled you.  That I felt your body next to mine, felt your hand grab on to me.  Time passes and so do those memories of you kicking me, kicking your brother. Oh, how I loved to watch you move.

Time is not my friend.  I forget.  And that makes me sad, but yet they remember... somehow they always remember to come.

The butterflies.

It's almost another September and I know that it too will be here and gone... too soon.

That dream I had...

I've been quiet here lately.
That doesn't mean I haven't been thinking, writing, composing thoughts swirling in my mind.

I have gone on walks where I felt an 8 year old was walking by my side. I felt my head go up, thankful for him there.
I have stopped at their garden, not to shed tears, but to lift up thanks.  Just because I was glad that they were there~
In my life.

Recently I wrote of how one of my very dear friends lost her baby. How it set ME back. How I felt that  all those I love should be immune to my sadness.  I hear from people who have lost their children and my heart breaks, but this one ripped into my soul and I found myself in that raw place, sobbing, unable to make it stop because I knew what she was going through and I knew that nothing I could say or do could take away that horrible pain.

I wanted to give an update of sorts on my friend.  It hasn't gotten easier really... as those who have gone this road know, there is a moment where that fog settles and you find yourself standing there.  Alone. Not knowing how it is that your knees are managing to hold you up.  She's there now.  She wants nothing more than to have a baby in her arms.  I remember that pain.  That urgency.  That desperation.

But.

Something good has happened... or at least, I think it is good.

A while back I wrote about a dream I had.  How odd it was.  There was a dead baby in it.  The baby was alive but somehow, I knew that that particular baby had died. It wasn't Andrew and I knew that. I was a bit angry at first for I had prayed to see Andrew in my dreams for years and have yet to have seen him (or at least remember my dream if he has visited).  I did turn and see a girl.  A beautiful little blond girl who looked to be about three and I knew in an instant it was my daughter.

I couldn't keep my eyes off her. It filled me up and like that peace I had while on my walk, and visiting the garden I felt full.  I didn't want her to leave but she had to.  I watched her go.  She was happy as she turned and smiled at me one last time. And it was good.

Still, I wondered about the baby.

Soon after I learned my friend had lost her baby.
I thought perhaps that baby was someone that I wanted to know, longed to hold, dreamed of calling me "Auntie Laura"

I told her about my dream.

I haven't written in a while.
But I wanted you to know.

Her baby...
Was a boy.

He's there.
Watching her and praying that his mom would know he's OK and that there is someone else she's meant to hold (first).

One day you'll walk like me and feel them at your side and smile.
One day you'll see their name and kiss your lips to their stone~ not because it makes you sad, but because it fills you up.

You are their mother.
You won't forget.
And neither will they.

Dear Jonasen,

Last night I couldn't sleep.
For the next day I knew that I would be presenting Joe with a bible.  Though I knew about this for some time, I didn't know quite what to say.  How do you share your faith with an 8 year old?  How do you share experiences that have shaped your faith?  When I think about my faith much of it was carved out of pain... when I was in the trenches going toe to toe with God... wondering Why?

But in the end I knew he was real and I wanted nothing more than to share that knowledge with those I love, especially my children.

And so last night I sat down and began to write.  I wrote in Joe's bible all the things I wanted him to know.  I know that like all of us his walk in faith will have twists and turns and detours.  I do hope and pray though that he'll always remember this path that I am trying so hard to carve for him.

Here is my letter to Joe:



And if you'd like to see the actual presentation of Joe's Bible and my reading of the letter, you can click HERE.  My daughter video taped it for us.  There are many shots of our feet, but I am glad she captured the moment.

I'll never forget that first Mother's Day.  How bittersweet it was.  I had a beautiful baby in my arms but a huge hole in my heart.  I had a flower on my wrist and I remember those around me in church looking at me and smiling at me.  A sweet young mother.

What many of them didn't know was that whole story. That my motherhood didn't begin with the baby in my arms, but with his brother who was born one minute before him that September before.

They didn't know that I felt God that September night. Felt a presence that is indescribable.  One that I will never forget. I grew up that day.  I had a purpose.  I was a mother. But that first night being a mother, I looked at my first born one last time, kissed his forehead and whispered to him how much I was going to miss him.  And God knows I miss him still.

I am not alone.

Only after losing my Andrew and sharing his story with others did I realize that the pain that I had was not unique.  Friends who had had a stillborn baby, or miscarriage came to me~  Shared their stories~ Cried their tears~ Carried me.

I didn't know.

And you probably don't either. There is something about us. We have an amazing strength to smile again, to get up, to live life, to laugh... and still right there, just below the surface we have them there... with us.  Be it a child we held in our arms, a heartbeat we saw on a screen or a dream we had when we saw those two lines on a pregnancy test.  We remember.  We never forget.  We never will.  We are their mothers.  The one who loved them first and we will love them still until we take our last breaths and join them once again.

I'm sad that I am part of this group, but I am proud.  For no where in this world have I found the love and support and undying kindness like that of a bereaved mother.  One who walked my shoes. One who would carry me when I could not walk it alone.

Thank you.

Thinking of all of you on this International Bereaved Mother's Day.
You inspire me with your stories.  With your strength.  With your love.

Wishing you peace~
Hugs,
L

The things we can't change

I was just thinking of that puppy.  The one you saw when you were in third grade that you KNEW you had to have.  The one you had already named and whispered to saying, "You are just going to love your home.  We are going to have so much fun together!"

I was just thinking about the job interview.  The one that you nailed!  The one that you knew would be yours and you started thinking about the commute and how you would set up your classroom when your 5th grade students arrived in the fall.

I was just thinking of that boy... the one you fell in LOVE with when you were 12.  The one that had the last named that you were sure would be your own and practiced writing over and over.  The one that made you cry heavy sobs when you learned it was never going to be.

Well... mom and dad said that puppy would get too big.  And that job... mom and dad said that would be a long commute.  And that boy... your folks said you'd be over him soon... Sometimes mom and dad are right.

The thing is Laura, you have learned that there are things that we can't change in this life even though you wish you could.  I wish your hair was thicker and that horrible twin skin that Andrew and Joe left you would go away (without the heavy price tag that a tummy tuck would bring).

But I want you to think about this...
Had you gotten that dog, there would have been no Jenny Puddles.  Could you imagine your life without that sweet dog?  ~The one you told all your secrets to- the one who you held, tears rolling down your face as she took her last breath...

Had you gotten that job there would have been none of them... All those children that you were meant to teach- those children that were meant to teach you.  You know their names... the students who you think of still and wonder if they remember you too... (They do!)

And that boy.  The one you cried for days over.  Look at your life, your amazing husband- the one whose kiss can still make you weak in the knees, those beautiful children that create the laughter in your home.  Let's face it.  It was a good thing that God never answered those prayers or perhaps more importantly, He answered them, NO!

But what about him?  What about that little boy that you loved and prayed for.  The one that you dreamed about.  The one that you dream about still?

What about her?  The girl you had thought would be a perfect little sister to your Ali Jane?

I have seen your tears.  Been with you on those nights that you screamed in the shower hoping no one would hear you (though they probably did).  I have watched you as you sat.  Silent.  Wondering.  Wishing. Missing them.  No one knew your mind, but I did.  And I was there.  I know you wondered where God was.  Did he hear your prayers?  Of course he did.  But why did he say "No?".

All of these answers you wanted now.  You wanted them yesterday and let's face it... you have had a pretty blessed life.  Not much struggle.  Not much pain (though I would never minimize your dog, your job, that boy...) But what about them.  Your CHILDREN.  That's when things seemed to change.  They were bigger.

Why them?

Laura, there are things that you can't change.

You didn't get that dog, but you fell in love with another.
You didn't get that job, but you had one that turned out to be perfect for you.
You didn't marry that boy, but the one you married is more amazing than any other boy you know (or will know!).
You didn't have those babies... you didn't get to look in their eyes... hear their laughter... feel their arms around your neck... hear them call you,

mom.

And you can't change that.

But
Laura, you know they are safe and that unlike that dog, job or boy you know they will see you again.  That you will see them again.  You know they are waiting.

God said, "No."
And in time you figured out there were others meant to be in your life.
Joey.
Ali Jane.
Zach.
Sean.
Lives you were meant to touch.  Lives meant to touch yours.
And you do.  And they have.
But they were meant to be in your life.  You were meant to keep their memories alive.  You were meant to write this, share them, show others...

There are things we can't change,
but hang in there- endure the painful wait.
Something is in store for you.
Someone, somehow is in store for you.
The next chapter is always better than the last.