With a heavy heart...

So I think I have diagnosed myself as a hesitant blogger....I get so inside my own head that I have to get it out or I am going to go insane. However, I also tread lightly when opening up my complete emotional self to my computer. Totally more of how I complicate even the simplest of things. However complicated I may be, I feel as though I've totally earned that right these last few years.

For Christmas, gifts we took some family pictures and it was actually really nice to see all the kids together. It was also very hard for me and it honestly had not occurred to me that it would be. However, the entire time, I kept thinking in my head "We are missing one...no, these are not all the grand kids...wait, no those are just 3 of the boys, there should be 4." I tried and tried to push those thoughts out of my head, but that night as I lay in bed, it played over and over in my head that our son should have been there. And then came the anger. I notice it creeping up to the surface more and more these days. It swallows me whole and most of the time I don't even see it coming. After Kade died, I poured myself into work. I became a work-a-holic and let that be my obsession and distraction. I am now realizing I never took the time to grieve or let myself feel the other emotions outside of sadness. Now, it has built up so much that I catch myself being angry at the smallest things: tv shows of idiotic parents (ahem....16 and Pregnant??), the news when a story of abused children comes on, and these stories will bother me for the rest of the evening. With a very heavy heart, I must also admit that I have began an internal struggle with how I am so angry with God. I had so much faith and hope through this process and I found so much comfort in His word through our loss. But lately, I don't find that comfort any longer. I feel as though God took everything we believed and broke us completely. I realize we are far from perfect or the poster children for religion...but I also know with everything in me that we are good people. We didn't deserve to lose that security or belief in the world. I don't know what would justify "deserving" to lose a child...I don't mean that. It is so complicated to explain; I guess I just feel so hurt, betrayed, and just plain anger that we lost Kade and that we now live half empty or half broken. I am angry that my girls will not ever know their brother, that they have to try to comprehend his death at such a young age, that Kinsley cries because she misses her brother or because she can't see him. I feel so guilty for feeling angry and then I get angry that I feel guilty for being angry. Some days I just feel sad. Some days are days I spend angry. Most of the time, I am reminding myself of all we have to be so thankful for. In those moments when I watch my girls play or snuggle, I should know God loves us. How can we look at those beautiful babies and have doubts? I know eventually we'll get back to that place of finding peace in the faith we so clung to. It will come. For now though, I have to feel these emotions, feel the grief, and let myself find whatever it is I need to find to bring myself out of this feeling of unsettledness. I am a fighter...that's always been a part of me...and that is what my girls need to see in me. I fight for them. I fight for all the moms out there who feel the pain I feel and wonder how to muddle through it while keeping up with work, family, and life in general. I also have learned I have to fight for myself...no one else can do that for me.

Kinsley has really been inquisitive this week into facts about Kade's death. She has the usual whys, but also the fears of Karsyn going to Heaven, the need for more in depth details, and she has been looking at his picture albums more and more. Sometimes I have to remind myself that she's just 4. She always, and I mean always, says "Hi Bubba" as we pass the cemetery. Usually it followed with "we love you." And I don't do that...she didn't get that or over hear that from me. It touches a place in my heart that nothing else could. In those moments, I am reminded of how proud I am of her and how many lessons I have to learn from her.

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

Miracles Can Happen.....

I subscribe to a post about Victoria, a little girl diagnosed with acrania, who has survived beyond all expectations. From this post, I was linked to a family who delivered a beautiful little girl with anencephaly. Baby Marsela lived for 1 year and 8 months with anencephaly...this is absolutely unheard of and nothing short of the grace of God. Marsela recognized her mother, her mother's voice, was weary of strangers and loud noises. I am not a scientific person, nor do I debate into too many things concerning the life/science debate. However, when I watched Marsela's story, it brought life to so many thoughts and ideas we had about Kade. When the specialist told us we'd be better off aborting, that he could never think or feel things...I understand the science behind his argument. It has taken me years, but I do see why he chooses to look at children as "cases" or as a "fetus." I can't imagine doing what he does everyday and the emotional toll that must take on someone. However, I always felt in my heart that Kade was living and full of life inside me. How can you watch a child sucking his thumb or kicking you inutero and not feel that? Through Marsela's story, I found justification of those feelings and it just reinforced my belief in the choices we made to carry Kade to term. They had almost two years with their beautiful daughter. I'm in no way idealizing those two years-I am sure they were difficult, that Marsela required around the clock full time care, that watching her sick and weak at times was heartbreaking and tough beyond imagination. However, they also loved that little girl with all they had and made the very best they could of the time God gave them with her and I admire them so much for that. How proud God must have been to watch them love His child and protect her all they could for the time they were blessed to have.
I have been angry at God for a long time now. I prayed with all my might that we'd get to meet Kade alive. I was devastated and so lost when Kade was born still. However, as I watched Marsela's story, I suddenly realized God knew what he was doing. I barely survived losing Kade; honestly, there are days I am not sure I have. Had I had any more time with him or cared for him in the hospital, I am sure I would have lost my mind in the following months of his death. His death was the hardest thing I have ever endured and I know in my heart that any more time with him, or watching him fight the common illnesses or heart problems found in babies with birth defects would have been impossible for me. The heartache would have been unbearable. Maybe God knew we were fragile; that we could not handle anymore than what we were already going through. I honestly don't know and will likely never understand all the workings of life and why things happen the way they do. I do know that I found so much hope and love in this story. Why don't we hear stories like this in the news rather than some stupid report on another famous person who's lost their mind??? Makes me so sad that it is crap like that that makes headlines (and helps no one), when there are stories like Marcela's that could help so many people struggling through similar situations.