Thankful......

Ah, the beginning of the holiday season. As much as I welcome and enjoy this extra time with my family, it is also a bit hard to put my entire heart into it. While I am extremely thankful for each blessing in our lives, it is hard to fully commit to the whole thankful thing. I'd be lying if I said that I sit around the table and think about all the things I am grateful for. I can't help but find myself thinking "there should be a little boy here" or "we are missing someone." I feel so guilty that I allow myself to fall into that bit of sadness rather than rejoicing in the faces we do have around the table, however, it is just there and falls upon me before I even have a chance to realize it. Our minds are funny things sometimes and the more I experience, the more I think mine follows my heart. When my heart hurts, my thoughts tend to follow. As I watched the girls play at a Thanksgiving dinner on Sunday, I felt like a part of me was missing, that I just was not fully engaged in the event. I have a hard time explaining the feelings that well up...much less the mixed emotions of what follows when I catch myself being so down. I have been told numerous times to enjoy what "I have," "rejoice in the good," ,etc. and I get it, however, it rarely comes from someone who's experienced what we have. As a mother who has lost a child, I don't think it is possible to fully commit to the holiday season without a bit of sadness or loss....and it's not that I don't appreciate my other children, I truly believe you can do both. You can be sad for what you've lost and you can be joyful for your blessings all in the same breath. In all aspects of my faith, I believe in my heart God understands this. I am confident He knows my heart and knows how I love my children and how I grateful I am for each minute I get to share with them (yes, even those moments when I am hiding in the bathroom looking for just a few seconds of "mom" time)...and that He understands the hurt and feelings of loss I experience when that heartbreak begins to win over. He created us to feel, to sympathize, to care for others, so I have to believe He allows us those emotions when the pain affects our own. I know we'll sit around the table Thursday and share what we are thankful for, with thankful hearts; that Kinsley will say she is thankful for bubba and Karsyn (she always does) and pogo sticks (that is a new on this year) and that that will bring on the tears, but they'll tears shared with a smile in that Kade will be remembered and will be a part of the celebration in our hearts, minds, and souls.

Just Breathe

I often hear people say "Time heals all wounds" and I truly wish I could agree...however, it is not true for me. I know why people say it and it is meant to make you feel better in a moment of heartache...and I guess in some situations it does heal some wounds. For a parent who has lost a child, however, I don't think that is ever true. It is like a lingering hole that nothing can satisfy. An emptiness that you feel each day. Does it get easier? Well, define easier. Are there days where I don't have to remind myself to breathe...yes. Are there days that I make it through without a tear...yes. But it is never easier. I still can't say I've had 3 pregnancies, but 2 live births without the tears welling up; I can't say I have 2 children...I always say 3. Not a day goes by that Kade isn't the first and last thing on my mind or watch my girls play and think.."hmm, someone is missing." It just becomes a part of you and a part of your life. Life is now broken down into two time frames: before Kade and after Kade. I am so thankful and realize how blessed we are to have to healthy, vivacious little girls, and I don't EVER take that for granted, but that doesn't make the death of one child any easier. It keeps you going and you realize that you have so much to live and be strong for, but it doesn't make it easier in my opinion.

I had a dream a few weeks ago that I can't shake. I was dreaming that our shop (a much larger version of our shop by the way) had standing water, and I called to Shannon to come look. Ahead of him came 3 beautiful children running in. An older girl, a little boy, and a baby (walking). And then I wake up. I wake to realize those were my kids...Kinsley, Kade as a boy, and Karsyn-just walking instead of crawling. I am lying in bed and hear "Mommy" so I assumed Kinsley was coming to our room (which is very common in the middle of the night). I wait, but no Kinsley. I lay there and hear "Mommy" again and so I go to Kinsley's room and she is OUT...I mean sound asleep. No way was it her (the snoring made it clear she wasn't yelling out anything :)
Karsyn can't say Mommy yet...just mama in two syllables so I went back to bed very disturbed. It was on my mind the rest of the night and throughout the next day. I don't believe in much super natural crap, and I don't put much emphasis into things I can't see/feel, etc. However, the mom in me couldn't help but let myself think it was Kade. Not really a form of Kade there calling out to me, I don't mean that. But maybe a gentle nod from God letting me know he's ok...he's home and he's safe in His arms. I realize to many that will seem like a complete psychotic comment and even Shannon would think I have lost my ever loving mind, but it is things like that that can bring a smile to my heart and if that is what it takes, then I'm ok with letting myself think that way.

Journal Entry: August 30, 2007

Kade came and went August 18. Weirdest of circumstances, but Weatherford hospital discovered he no longer had a heartbeat on August 17, so we went to the city that night and began to induce labor. They continued to induce labor throughout the night and by the next afternoon, it was time. When the time came to push, I lost it. I cried and cried. Kade came pretty easily....(edit)...No crying, no whaling, it was so heartbreaking! That was the worst minutes of my entire life. It's like a piece of me died too. I buried my head in Shannon's hand and just cried. My little man was so beautiful. He had Kins' face-Shannon's build. He was so long and skinny-exact same feet as Shan. Kade was just a little over 3 lbs. and was almost 16" long...yet he seemed as big as most full term babies. He didn't seem small. He had ten perfect fingers and toes; he was perfect except for his little head. He even had dark hair and little ears that were so adorable. Bless his heart, he gave such a fight. I was so disappointed and heartbroken that I didn't get to meet him alive. I held him most of Saturday and Sunday until we went home. I sang to him and gave him kisses. The time came to leave and that was so hard, leaving him there. It was beyond terrible. I don't have the words. I don't know if I can even begin to describe the service. Monday was a blur-funeral home, etc. I just remember sitting there picking out flowers, etc and feeling like it was all a dream. Just couldn't grasp it was actually happening. Then the nightmare day came. From the time I woke up I cried and cried. The inevitable had come and I finally had to let go. First, I did everything I could to drag out that morning before the service. I just didn't want it to be time. We were late to the service, went in the wrong door, etc. Just that type of chaos. The funeral, however, was as beautiful and painful as it could be. We were surrounded in love and those that were there were our closest friends and family. I was not at all prepared for his burial. I had to have them wait and open the casket so I could see him one more time. Mom had a letter for him, so I laid that with him as well. I did not want to let go or leave. I just couldn't move. Finally Kara had to just put her arms around me and walk me to the car. It was beyond hell. It was like a piece of me stayed there and died right along with him. I know I will never be the same. I don't even remember what life was like before this.

The Last Letter....

Below is the last letter I wrote to Kade. He was buried with his letters on August 21, 2007. Since that time, I continue to write him letters and leave them at his headstone or sometimes I keep them in our "Kade box" with all the cards, etc we received after his death.

I remember hearing a story years ago of a family who lost a child and how they took pictures with him, etc and I remember being so creeped out. I honestly remember saying "I could NEVER do that!" How we should never say never. When Kade was born, there was nothing weird or gross about it. It was absolute heart break...but not at all what I had so freaked out about years ago. It was as natural as wanting to keep my other children close...I was just as proud that day as I have been on the days my other children were born. I sang to him, held him, and in the moments he was with us here on Earth, he was surrounded in complete love. Our families all stepped up and surrounded him in the same love they had all the other babies born into this family. It was the hardest thing I have ever done; leaving that hospital without him. I admit, I woke up from what little sleep I had that night in panic that I'd left our son at the hospital. I sobbed like a complete lunatic when I allowed myself to think about him being a cold freezer instead of wrapped up in a warm baby blanket in the bassinet beside us. It is unexplainable and something you have to force yourself to face and then force yourself to let go of. I can not explain the moment he was born............not hearing his cries, it was just silent. Absolute silence. Then I remember just breaking into uncontrollable sobs. Just sobs that take over your entire body. I remember burying my head in Shannon's hands and I am not sure how long I sobbed like that. When they handed Kade to me, it was the strangest sense of calm. I suddenly felt some sort of peace and I smiled at his handsome face. I was heart broken, yet so thankful all at the same time. I am so very thankful for Dr.N who cried with us, who faced an entire waitng room of friends and family at least 20+ strong and giving them the news. I am so thankful for everyone there...everyone who came into our room and never once treated him like an oddity. He was greeted with smiles, hugs, tears, and held in love. Kinsley was still so little, she wasn't sure what was going on, but she knew she was surrounded by those that love her and she was more worried about playing with Aunt Kara and Nonny than the baby. I'll never forget Aunt Suzanne and Karen helping with his hand prints and feet prints. It is just certain pieces of that weekend that stick out like bright pictures in my memory. I just remember feeling so much grace in that room. I am so thankful that while Kade was here with us, he knew nothing but love. We were so blessed with wonderful nurses and staff. Not one treated us like we were crazy, and you could see they felt our sadness. That weekend brought big storms and major flooding; we were barely able to get home. I felt like the rain if that makes sense and I remember thinking how appropriate the storms and rain were for this "occasion."
I miss Kade every day and he is the first thing on my mind in the mornings and the last at night. I will forever be grateful for our time with him, and maybe even a bit angry and sad that our time was so short. That's just part of being human I think. Sweet dreams little man.

Letters to Kade: August 19, 2007

Dearest Kade,
We learned Friday that you had already gone to God so we went to the hospital to begin delivery. I was in labor that night and through the next day. When the time came to begin pushing, I just lost it. It suddenly hit me that this was it...I was going to have to let you go and there was just no way I was ready. The months of hoping and praying for a miracle had come to an end. It was time. The delivery was not the easiest, but not too rough. You are so beautiful! You are tiny...just 3 pounds. You look like Kinsley in the face with those round little cheeks. You have a very long, skinny little body and built just like your daddy. You are so perfect-your little head is the only thing that was not absolutely perfect. You have beautiful, long little fingers and cute, fat flat feet just like daddy's. I held you most of the day yesterday and kissed your little face. We took pictures of you and you with the family. I knew the minute I saw you that I was so thankful that I got the chance to meet you. You are so much worth the pain. I just can't explain how much I love you and how grateful I am to be your mommy. You are a beautiful child-such a blessing. You are so tiny and amazing...it's so hard to understand how you couldn't live when everything about you seemed so perfect. As hard and painful as it is, it will never change that I have loved you more than life itself for the last nine months and I will continue to do so for the rest of my life. I am not ready to say goodbye yet and I won't say those words until we lay you down for the last time. I know today I will hold you and love you and leaving you will be the hardest thing I have ever done.
I love you baby. I am so grateful for your beautiful face, spirit, and the amazing fight you gave to live.
Love Always,
Mommy