purpose

i blog because i like to write. i'm a stay at home mama with my nest full of chickies and i know this season is so short and so many of my memories are fleeting. My Father's lessons are coming thick and fast - and i want to try to capture some of the journey that He has brought me on... and will bring me through.
But during 40 Days for Life, i do let my little blog slip and slide as i blog over HERE.
During 40 Days for Life - i blog because i want to be obedient - and i feel burdened for my country and this culture that finds abortion acceptable. During 40 Days for Life, i blog for Caleb and Hope and Tiny - because my mama heart refuses to deny their value as tiny human persons who never got to live outside my womb. During 40 Days for Life - i facilitate others sharing their prolife stories on a public blog because i think that our community of prolife believers needs to grow - both in numbers and in courage.
If you have a prolife story to share (or you just want to be encouraged in your prolife journey), i invite you to come check out our Calgary 40 Days for Life blog.
i won't forget about my tiny bit of home turf here... i'll be 'round... :)
www.calgary40dfl.blogspot.com

wave of light...

October 15th is pregnancy and infant loss remembrance day...
All over the world at 7pm, families will light a candle and leave it burning for one hour.  This will create a continuous wave of light to honour these wee ones who so deeply impacted our lives. 

Caleb and Hope... i'm so glad you came...
Even just for a short time.  i'm so glad i got to be your mama - to be changed right down to my very core by your brief, tender lives.  You challenged me to thoroughly examine my life, my faith, my calling and my God - and i found Him faithful.  i'm eternally grateful, -mama. 

walk to remember 2011

grief

Gratitude changes the *flavour* of grief... we still taste it, but it's sweetness comes out - rather than it's bitterness.
It was a strange week... a struggling sort - a tough kind. 
Finally at night - lying next to my near-sleep husband, i whispered, "Do you think i would still be struggling so hard if it wasn't the first week of September?"
He let out his breath - in a long exhale...
"Why don't you just tell me these things instead of making me wonder why you're so sad?"
& it's because i hardly know them myself... they come upon me like night comes upon day - i'm not even aware of it - till the leaves turn - i see a calendar - i want another baby... or at least to enjoy the dream of another wee one.
& i curl my body up next to his broad back already taking it's deep rhythmic breaths - i trail his hairline with my fingertips and will myself to sleep - while grief and gratitude co-exist in this first week of September  mist.

Summer Thoughts

We took a road trip to Manitoba. 
It was beautiful and hot - and there were no mosquitoes there - much to my surprise.  We went for a family wedding - Neil's side.  His side of the family is incredibly tight, and it has been fun as an outsider these past 15 years to watch them operate. 
Honestly?  i left my computer at home on purpose... Too much on my mind to be able to sift & blog coherently.  Sometimes you gotta live before you can digest & tentatively choose if you're able to put out your embryonic ideas for the world to see in all their vulnerability. 
So this week, i lived. 
But i took notes - hastily scrawled bits and pieces as they came to me: country music, divorce, marriage, children, wonderings, a small bit of a character sketch for my next novel - if it ever decides it wants to be written. 
i wondered about leaving off this blog forever... if maybe now was the right time to put an end to this tiny honest wondering place... But now i have been home for less than an hour - and as my boys sleep around me, and my brother in law's family finds spots in our home to lay their weary bones down for the night - i decided that maybe it's not quite time yet.  Maybe there are more words to say - more ideas to explore - more of His Goodness to declare... here. 
So in this quiet pitta pat rainy night - as midnight creeps closer - i'll tell you one tiny story from my days away. 
We got to see Elmer.   And for whatever reason - with Elmer, i'm not an outsider.  His still strong hands are getting old, and the hair i used to trim for him is becomming more white than grey.  i noticed he had put on a little weight, but for the most part, it seems Elmer never changes.  (Neither do his neices and nephews, for that matter - as they gathered for a picture, Neil grabbed the white cane out of his hands to smack his brother with).
Elmer's a popular guy at these family gatherings... but i managed to squeeze in and steal his attention for a minute or two... After a moment, he commented casually, "Hey, Paige - i wonder why those two got away on you?  If you hadn't lost those two babies, you would have nine, wouldn't you?" 
And sometimes - family is predictable in a comforting sort of way... Sometimes the sameness of your conversations become like a well travelled road.  There is a certain sweetness in the familiarity of exploring that shared past with someone who remembers.  And so i took that walk with him.... there in that crowded backyard as his words lifted me to another time and place - because even still - i know those babies changed me, and i think on some level, he must know that too - & that's why he'll never, ever stop bringing them up. 
The next day as he left the hotel, he tossed over his shoulder, "i'll talk to Cairo next week..."
And he will. 
And they'll talk about what we all had for dinner and what instruments she likes to play, and if she helps around the house.  And they'll prune that tiny familar conversational path as they meander along it, building memories of their own....

mama

i know...
i don't always blog on Sundays -
but it's Mother's Day - & i find myself grateful.
i'm grateful for my mama who birthed me & grew me -
for my mother in law - who did the same for my rare man.
i'm grateful for these tiny & not so tiny ones who made me a mama myself.
i'm grateful for my sister-mama's who, having seven children each of their own - are almost as familiar with my life as i am myself.
-& whispered voice from deep offers comforting truth...
i'm grateful for the two who are waiting for me in heaven - whose tender, brief lives make me a better mama - and human being...

& gratitude grows...

timing...

His... not mine that is...
i got my book yesterday. Funny how that little event coincided with Ash Wednesday; the beginning of a Catholic holiday that has proved beneficial to me over the past several years.
i believe that the observance of lent can serve as a tenderizer to the heart - and do i ever want to be soft.
40 days - 40 weeks.

(*not the real cover - but very similar to the one we ended up choosing :)

The whole day seemed full of "40" - i got an email from a sweet friend, inviting me to look at the website 40daysforlife.com and was encouraged to pray fervently for the wounded and the hurting, the ones impacted by abortion in our country - and our world during this season of lent.
That same day, my mama posted a picture of the teeny memorial plaques that my parents placed for Caleb and Hope (and wee Charis too)... We have been waiting years- and this is the day i first got to see their little names inscribed with the words so carefully chosen.

And maybe i'm reading into the coincidences surrounding the timing of the arrival of that brown parcel - with my skinny novel inside - but i feel the whisper in the wind to keep giving all i have for His glory - and to continue to proclaim truth gently.

My sister said to me, "Sometimes God's timing is just so gentle and obvious of a reminder that He *is* concerned with what concerns us most. love..."

i love that too...

*************************

ps - still going through the little painstaking process to finish off tiny bits of edits before i make my book available... i think it might be ready by May?

her birthday

i remember her birthday.
She was late - and i remember her due date coming and going - and begging in whispers to neil that she not be born on the seventeenth.
The seventeenth was my baby's due date. My sister in law and i had been pregnant together - but then... my little boy came early - and my September grief was still too raw in February to fathom sharing the date that we had circled on the calendar to be his...
But, my little niece - in God's grand design - was born wee, pink and wailing on the seventeenth... and it's her day.
i remember my mother in law phoning to tell us that their baby was on her way. i remember feeling like flinging the phone from my ear - grabbing my little blond sprite in my arms - and running.
i felt a panic - like the giant waves of my grief would wash us out to sea... and in my agitation, the need to gather my chicks under me... to protect them while the angry winds wailed... but there was one tiny chick whom i couldn't gather - & even though i knew he was safe at Home - i felt my job incomplete.
i held Cairo - my tiny comforting wisp - in my arms - and tried to remember with gratitude the little one i was carrying in my womb...
but i wanted Caleb.
When she arrived... i think neil took the phone call, at least, i can't remember it. And then days came after that day and softened the blow... and the years passed - and the injustice of that date lost it's sting somewhere along the line.
Now she's 13 - & one of the sweetest girls in the world. She's shy around both neil & i - but loves my girls like they're her sisters....
And the seventeenth? ... it's her birthday.

grief questions...

My friend wrote a post forever ago with questions about grief - the questions are specific to losing a baby, but i think that looking at grief can be a valuable thing - no matter what it is we're grieving... health, the absence of justice, lack of love...
Grief is universal - and yet we each experience it so uniquely.
i took the questions and answered them, but never got around to posting them here, until now.

**************************************************

I want to know if you think about them often.
i think about them often - together - & separately too. Sometimes as i'm drifting off to sleep. Sometimes it's just a peaceful knowledge that all will be well - & sometimes it's a random heartbreaking memory. There are little things i have intentionally placed in our home so that i have carved out a place to honour the memory of those 2 lives that deeply impacted me. i have a tiny baby quilt that Ephraim uses that i made after i lost caleb, i have a piece of art that Neil bought me when i was pregnant with Hope. i have their names on a necklace that i wear - & their memorial certificates on my bedroom wall & a picture of the terrible beauty in the sky the night that we found out that Caleb had gone Home. My sister took it and sent it to me...

I want to know what reminds you of them.
*Yorkton Saskatchewan. Caleb is my only child delivered in the same province that i was born in.
*Mayfair - that's where Hope's ultrasound happened.
*Jason Upton's music,
*the song _i surrender all_,
*other women who say, "pheuf, i made it through the first trimester" - because Caleb did too - & because Hope didn't.

I want to know what you remember most about that pregnancy.
Both of them - finding out i was pregnant. They each came at a time in my life when i longed for a baby. i'm so grateful i journaled through Hope's short pregnancy... it was pure joy. i wrote in there, "even while i'm getting sick every morning, i can't wipe the smile off my face..." - i'm so glad that my journal was full of gratitude.

I want to know if their siblings remind you of them.
We thought Caleb looked like Cairo when he was born. He was still so tiny though - & with Hope it was impossible to guess about features... but in my mind, Caleb would have been a cross between Cairo & Charter...
But the siblings that remind me *most* of Caleb & Hope are Sloanie & Gagey - the 2 born to me after each loss. i wish i could have kept them all...

What do you think their personality would be?
Sometimes... when i let my imagination go... i imagine them to be something like my friend Fawne's Wyatt. He was missing a tiny bit of one chromosome - & yet even with all the issues that his little body faced - he was so sweet & uncomplaining. i hope that no matter what happened with my 2 little ones - they would have the sweetness that Wyatt had.

What do you look forward to the most in seeing them someday?
Won't it be amazing to have everyone... all together?

Are there certain dates that seem to hit the hardest?
Funny enough - their dates cross in both February - and in September. It's not a specific date that hits the hardest - it's those days surrounding *the dates* in those 2 months.
Mothers day - that would be the day that i struggle with... because i'm reminded of what i lost.

What were you expecting in grief and how did it surprise you?
i didn't know it would be so solitary. It's not the same for men & women - & it's certainly unique to every individual.
Grief... is lonely.

What did you learn through their life and death... and through the pain that follows?
"Time heals" sounds so trite, & yet there is a depth to that truth. Having Caleb & Hope changed everything for me. i'm a different girl than i would have been, had they not come. Their brief lives sharpened my desire for Heaven - & eternal things. They challenged my views on children - and motherhood - and forced me to examine what i truly believe.
i'm so grateful i got the opportunity to mother them - and to continue to mother them from afar - as i journey Home too.

Do you ever think of me?

i remember you - in your hospital gown - with your rounded belly, as you walked the halls.
You had coppery curly hair - & your husband looked tired.
i didn't want to look at you - as we both laboured in the full maternity ward.
i let Neil stay in that strange 'common room' they had - & i went & lay in my bed - waiting for the contractions to start.
i think i forgot about you for awhile - as you walked the halls & i stayed in my room... with the door shut - planets and stars seeming to orbit my small womb - that held my dead baby...
But we met again - you pale and surprised -
me screaming and crying for help -
when my baby came sooner than expected & i found myself alone.
& then you ran - & got help - even as your own labour continued...
& at the time, i thought only of myself - in my selfish grief - as i stared at that tiny lifeless form lying between my legs...
But last night i thought of you - of your baby.
i don't know if you had a son or a daughter on that september afternoon in 1997...
Maybe by now, your beautiful coppery hair has a few greys. Your son or daughter just celebrated their 13th birthday.
i wonder if you remembered me too - & my tiny son - on that maternity ward all those years ago...
& maybe when you tucked in your lanky teenager...
you felt gratitude-
like a gentle,
rhythmic,
heartbeat.
************************************************************

At the walk to remember, they were raising money for a 'remembering room' - for grieving families.
i carried around many... many regrets from Caleb's birth for a very long time after he was born. i wished that there were caring, gentle individuals - who could have helped me make good choices in such a confusing time.
i believe in this life honouring type of cause... & i hope it brings comfort to those who brokenly walk through it's doors.

walk to remember 2010

"Neil?"
"Hm."
"i had a little cry."
"In Dairy Queen?"
"no. Before that."
"oh. That's alright."
"yeh."

i thought of you today...

My 2 that don't get to be in all my pictures...

Maybe it's that i'm visiting such a beautiful place...

makes me think of heaven.

You won't throw stones in the ocean...

or try to wrap skinny arms around tall trees...

You won't trap tiny crabs in seashells...

Or comb the pebbles looking for beach glass...

& yet the ripples from your little lives continue to grow and spread...

i'm so grateful for you.

i hate miscarriage...

i guess that's like saying, 'i hate death & disease...'
i guess i do.
i hate the pain - & the sorrow & the grief that get drowned in well meaning people who quote statistics, "they say that so many percent of babies are lost to miscarriage & mothers don't even know it..."
oh.
So what do i say? i guess i shouldn't care then? i guess my world shouldn't be rocked? i guess i should just pretend my body doesn't moan and weep for the little ones it longed to carry...
i have been watching friends grieve miscarriages again this year...
Like i guess i do every year... friends or acquaintances... who come to mind frequently because i feel a little bit like maybe where they're walking is familiar sacred ground.
& i know i don't get it completely... we've all travelled different paths, delivered our little ones under different circumstances, in different seasons of our lives. Our grief is our own - our reactions unique.
i saw a picture in a community building today. It was a painting of a veteran sitting in a graveyard with a child sitting by his side, compassionately comforting the old man who sat with his face in his hands. i stopped mid step & looked carefully at the picture.
i felt like the old man...
i still miss my babies.
i wish i could show you - right now - on my blog - caleb's perfect feet.
Seriously - so cute.
won't
heaven
be
amazing....

Hope's Day... The unpublished post...

As we waited for baby Yum to come - i found i felt like writing in the afternoons... This is the post i had prepared for the morning of February 14th... i'm gonna post it now... Seems fitting as February 17th was Caleb's due date. Amidst my gratitude for this beautiful, fresh life in my home - i remember the little ones i didn't get to keep - & i'm grateful for them too.
T - thinking of you this week in your sorrow & loss...
*********************************************************************


There are little holes in our family.
When someone asks me what number i'm currently carrying and i answer, "Seven."
i say it tentatively.
My mother's heart refuses to deny the 2 i didn't get to raise.
They have each carved their place in my life - & i can't imagine - nor do i want to imagine - the person i would be if they had never come.

February 14th 2007 -
That was Hope's day.
i'm sure there is much that could be written about these "in between" years too - the years that carried us from the Mollen years to Hope's day... from Sexsmith to Calgary... in Neil's career from production to sales... from finished finality to the possibility of more children...
But, for now - for today - i think it's time to tell you about baby Hope.
i woke up in the morning of February 12th, knowing that the life in my womb had gone...
It was the most bizarre feeling - i was still early enough in my pregnancy that, really - there shouldn't have been much to indicate there was anything awry. i had thrown up only days before - i was bloated and tired and deliriously excited to be expecting another baby.
But, when i woke up that morning, in a panic - i layed my hands on my abdomen - & the first thing i did was to cry out to God to give me my baby back. i pled with Him for the little life - remembering how in the Bible, he heard the cries of grieving mothers - and had done miraculous things. i hoped for no less for my little baby.
i felt Him say, "No".
My rational brain tried to tell me that i was being crazy... but i went to see a doctor & when she saw how distraught i was - she immediately ordered me an early ultrasound - for February 14th. "Mostly for your peace of mind..." she said.. but i could tell, she believed me.
It was Valentines day - & the littles had planned a red an pink celebration.
As they babbled excitedly about the new baby who would be attending next Valentines day - my heart silently broke & i asked them to be quiet.
Neil was gone on a business trip -
i sat at my piano & praised the God who is the giver and taker of life.

He saw me...

& in the holy hush of that heartwrenching morning - He came and met with me... and remained with me for my whole vigil - that lasted until February 26th, when finally my body let go of the little one it had longed to carry.
Those days are emblazoned on my memory - a testimony of my Father's faithfulness. There wasn't a moment i was alone - or felt abandoned.
Hope's life was a gift - a treasure.
You can read Hope's whole story here.
What a faithful, loving Father i serve....

i'll share a note i wrote to some friends yesterday that captured a bit of my heart for these tender days waiting for another precious baby - praying for peace, for health, for life...

"i'm *feeling* it this morning - it is close... like a presence. i have never felt imminent birth like this - there was too much focus on myself at the end of my other pregnancies... This is something beautiful. i'm finally getting mild *mild* contractions... Oh, God, let this be it...
Tomorrow is the anniversary of the day i found out that baby Hope had died. After we found out, Neil & i decided to wait & let baby come on it's own timing. It took almost 2 full weeks for my body to l.e.t. g.o.
i'm wondering if God's timing has anything to do with a sort of a washing & a redemption for me... Either way - i never thought these dates would come so close. Caleb's due date (my first son i lost) was February 17th... This time of year is always so poignant for me - & as i'm walking closer & closer to these dates - i feel Him walking with me.
i'm grateful."

Bones

Dad's full of nicknames, eh, Sloan?
i want to tell you your story too.
i was sure a different girl when i found out you were coming than i had been when i found out Cai was coming. i had experienced so many new things - being a wife & a mama, the isolation of moving far away from all our friends & my family, staying home & keeping house - rather than working or going to school for the first time in my life.
But by far the thing that had left me most changed was losing Caleb.
You were conceived the month after his loss.
Gone were any cocky notions that i was 'made to have babies'. i saw myself as a broken vessel - & prayed that God would spare you despite the fact that i had been unable to protect your brother. Your pregnancy milestones were touched with a yearning for my other baby... when we announced our pregnancy, we should have been announcing a baby's birth - & i wanted all 3 of my babies... & i always felt a gnawing pain knowing that in this life, that would never be so.
As a result, i was ready for you to be born from the moment i knew you were coming. i didn't want to wait what felt like a torturous 9 months for you to grow - i wanted you safe in my arms now.
We went for an extra ultrasound with you - to make sure all was well... i'm not sure if it was to accomplish anything more than peace of mind as we had had an ultrasound with Caleb at 12 weeks & all had been well in baby land... but suddenly, for no reason at week 16, his little life ended...
When we went for a second ultrasound, (your placenta had been a little low, so the doctors had wanted to double check on that) - i told daddy i wanted to know if you were a boy or girl. Dad was a big fan of the 'surprise' - but he knew that in my fragile state, i wanted something i could hold onto - so he let me find out.
The doctor performing the ultrasound had propped the monitor so i could see too & as he scanned your perfect little body, i saw what i was looking for without anyone telling me.
"It's a girl..." i breathed.
Tiny sisters.
My imagination went wild.
We picked your name - & taught Cairo to call you by it. & as the months slowly dragged by - i learned that some things were just out of my control - & i was going to have to wait for you - like it or not. People told me that i shouldn't grieve so hard - as it would be hard on the baby inside. i sat at my piano & cried & sang - cairo nestling her white head against me & you - my comfort - you grew, despite their warnings.
At last, the days dwindled into the single digits. i felt sure that you would soon be here - & almost nightly, i would sit up, timing contractions, praying that you would come.
Finally - *finally* - the day came. My doctor - likely knowing my heart - had sent me for a non stress test 4 days past your "due date". i drove to the hospital where they informed me that i was in labour. As i wasn't in any pain, i decided to just walk around, let daddy finish his shift & come when he was able. Since Cai's birth had been so quick, i thought yours would be too - but turned as you were in the birth canal, it would end up being a long, testing day.
Hours later, daddy arrived - with his cheerful, happy face adding to my strength - & together we laboured several more hours.
The intensity of the contractions brought back memories of both my first birthing, and that of your brother, though he had been only 16 weeks.
When i didn't think i could do it anymore, the doctor told me it would only be a couple more hours... i lost hope till i saw the nurse mouthing the words, "NO WAY" behind his back. As he left the room, she held my hand & said, "You're almost done, honey, you can do this..."
She was right.
Within 20 minutes, you were born.
Is she alive? Did God grant life?
Sloanie - you were tiny. You had a soft little mound of dark hair & your wee face had been squished & marked with stork bites. Your nose was crooked from your long, difficult journey & though you cried before you were fully born, almost instantly, you stopped & gazed around the room with wise dark eyes.
i shook.
My whole body shook with the exertion & effort it had taken to birth you & the emotion that grew when the sound of your voice filled a gaping hole in my heart.
Finally - kind hands wrapped us both in warm blankets and i crooned, sobbing, touching noses with this fresh life with whom i already felt fully connected.
i wanted to nurse you right away - and you were hungry too.
By the time we were settled - it was late. i was tired - but you weren't. Your dark eyes didn't want to close... almost like you had been as anxious to come out as i had been to have you out. We spent that first night, in exhausted wonder - each staring at the other - memorizing each others features, captivated with the change of scenery & the scent of *hope*.
Cairo loved you.
"Hold her! Hold her!" She cried cupping her tiny baby hands in front of her.
From the moment she laid eyes on you, the 2 of you have been inseparable. Each fiercely loyal to the other - companions. Faithful, steadfast, unwavering. An inspiration to your daddy and me as we try to instill a heart of love in our family.
So, bones, maybe your story isn't as eloquent, or as innocent as Cai's story.
Your story is one of desire & hope.
Your story includes scenes of heartbreak & sorrow.
Your story found me at a weak place...
i wouldn't trade your story for any other story in the world, 'cause your story -
brought us you.

"I never saw you so small before, not even when you were nursing the primrose."
"Must you see me every size that can be measured before you know me, Diamond?"

- At the Back of the North Wind by George MacDonald (Sloanie's favourite book at the time of this writing... )

Yours

Panic set in for no reason today.
But, it was different than it has been in the past... i was able to think through it - i felt like i was watching myself react to a situation - instead of being in the situation.
Nothing happened to set off my panic - it was just this gnawing feeling that "i know" something is wrong... It has happened to me before - & i asked Neil - as i was telling my feelings that they were irrational - if he thought i would get these feelings of panic if i had never lost Caleb.
"Probably not." He answered logically.
It was a strange feeling to be able to identify my feelings so precisely - & to know that they were without foundation... & that the wee one moving in my belly - even during those moments of unforeseen panic, kicking & squirming as if to comfort me - was fine.
& so i decided to enjoy my baby - not allowing fear in - just saying, "Father, this little one is *yours* - Thank you so much for these incredible moments..."
i took out my borrowed fetoscope - & listened to precious beating heart....
& then i did something i hadn't planned on doing today -
i got out all the tiniest sleepers i could find - & did a load of laundry.
In faith, believing that in a month's time - someone will be needing clothes to wear...
i was reminded that there's nothing wrong with *feeling* something... Feelings seem to come upon us, sneaking up behind us to catch us unawares...
It's what we *do* with those feelings.
Letting go - of anger, fear, disappointment... & clinging to the cross.

Taste of Tomorrow's post...

Today is Pregnancy & Infant Loss Remembrance Day - all across Canada & the United States, people will be lighting a candle from 7-8pm at their local time & creating a wave of light to remember our little ones who went Home early.
i prepared a blogpost for tomorrow - but i wanted to post this here - so that as many as want to, can participate tonight, together.

Still Crouched Over...

so - why do i mourn this little boy...

and this tiny child -

when i have this little cherub in my arms...

This little lady to make me laugh...

& a whole house full of children - to occupy my days, my years, my hopes and dreams of motherhood...

i'm still crouched over... paused... longing... waiting... acknowledging... Because Caleb and Hope's brief lives cry out to be recognized. Because as the one who carried them - and was forever changed by them... i feel like i can't ignore their impact.

The time won't come to pick myself up off the ground, brush off my knees and say - 'There. That's over.' i was changed on a cellular level the day that each of them were conceived.

i became Caleb's mama... and Hope's mama...

And by God's grace, i will do my best to mother each and every one of my children no matter if they're in the next room, snuggled on my lap, all grown up & being mothers and fathers themselves - or carried away to a place beyond the scope of my imagination...
So, two of my little ones won't come to me... won't call me momma... won't pick me dandelions or cry in my arms...

Yet - i will remember... i will be grateful... & until that day...

This is the 'more to come' post...

After a turn out of 350 their first year (they expected 75) they had over 750 their second year... i think this speaks to a need being filled...

Caleb's balloon (below) & Hope's balloon (above)...

This is my sweet friend jen - aka "J" - one of the most generous with her broken heart, people i've ever met... Her & her beautiful son Brennan have had an enormous impact on me. Last year at the walk, she was pregnant with her little cutie, Kellan - & this year i get the pleasure of carrying a fresh life. So good to have friends to share your joy & help carry your grief. Having my friends & family there - acknowledging their little ones - Melissa's Jaron & Chavonne, my sister's little one, Charis - made for company - where there is usually solitude. Our balloon tags... Still didn't know what to write a whole year later...

Something new this year: they had a memory line... such a perfect addition. So hard to think of the perfect words - with frigid hands & a crowded table. Next year, i will be prepared...

They had a harpist & a violinist this year - as well as the same speaker as last year... i need to go read her blog to see what she said... i had a bunch of little monkeys that were acting like little monkeys - & even though i loved having all my little ones there... they were a little distracting.

They also collected donations of teddy bears for bereaved parents. It seems like there were no ideas left unthought of...



& so... i'm done...

with thoughts left unblogged...

images in my mind of parents - eyes searching - looking heavenward -

an understanding that grief and separation are temporary - but that temporary means a lifetime of missing my little ones...

Somebody cute had the hiccups last night...

o, little one... just as i thought we were both starting to doze off - i started to feel those gentle rhythmic hiccups.

i rolled over on my side & got both my hands on my belly so i could feel you from the inside and out. Hard to believe your little frame fits in that hard ball in my belly. i try to picture you all scrunched up in there & as i feel each gentle whoosh, hiccup, or kick - i remember that that is *my* sweet little person hiding in there...

My body has been changing, making room for you - growing, doing crazy things because you're there. Even though you're not likely much more than a pound, i've put on 15 of them for you.

This morning, my shirt was still riding up after Gagey had his morning treat & gently, he put both of his fat little hands on my belly, acknowledging your presence. Do you hear your big brother on the outside when he talks, or pokes at your little home, or cries in the night?

God gave me a precious gift with your pregnancy... - a freedom from the anxiety that plagued me during Gagey's pregnancy. There is freedom to love you, to anticipate your arrival, to enjoy these precious days & weeks ahead as we prepare for your birth.

& so today as i walk in the walk to remember - & i remember the precious little ones who are waiting for me in heaven, i will also remember to be grateful - for the little one whose hiccups give me joy as i wait for sleep to come, who if God wills, will keep me company as we sojourn here on earth a little longer...