Chosen

Have you ever felt really thankful for and proud of being chosen for a special task or purpose?

I am so thankful and proud that God CHOSE us to parent one of his treasured gifts - a girl named Lucy. I'm so happy about it, that I'm almost past sad. I know that makes me sound "strong" and I'm not always "strong," but even in my weak moments I'm still thankful and proud.

It's hard to believe that today would have been Lucy's 12-week milestone. I would have been going back to work, wrapping up my maternity leave. My, my... it really hasn't been that long since she was born, but yet it seems like another lifetime ago in many ways.

I was remembering the other day a very real moment that I had with Lucy when I was still pregnant. Don't ever want to forget it. I was in my prenatal yoga class, and our instructor was reading a passage from a book. Suddenly I was overwhelmed with love. Lucy was moving like CRAZY inside my big ol' buddha belly and I felt so proud. I also felt DETERMINED to be the best Mama I could be to my baby, no matter WHAT. I was overcome with celebration of the little life growing inside of me. I took time to appreciate the miracle. (And, I know I've had two babies now, and maybe I shouldn't be so amazed... but it still BLOWS MY MIND that my body can grow a baby. Maybe it's just me, but, WHOA! Honestly blows my mind to think about. Everyday Miracles).

Talk about chosen! Every fiber of my being was chosen.

And I was up for the task; up for fulfilling my purpose.

I felt it in that moment in my bridge pose, and I feel it now.

Cleft of the Matter

It's all about perspective sometimes.

As you may know, when I was pregnant with Lucy we found out at my 20-week ultrasound that she had a cleft lip. I still remember the moment that they told Jeff and I that our baby had a cleft. And I am now thoroughly embarrassed and ashamed of how superficial my initial reaction was. I was concerned about the medical aspect, sure, but I was DEVASTATED over the physical aspect. I felt vain and superficial, but I just couldn't picture a baby with a flaw. MY baby with THIS flaw. To put it simply... I was FREAKED out.

After a follow up ultrasound and confirmation, we slowly started wrapping our minds around the "cleft of the matter." The cleft was a fact. It was there, and there was no changing that. We opted out of the genetic testing because it wasn't going to change anything we did, and we focused on educating ourselves on what we knew for sure. We were going to be parents of a cleft baby, a sweet, innocent little cleft baby. Do you know a cleft is actually a more "common" birth defect? I connected with so many parents online that were going through what we were going through! And as we started hearing other stories and learning from their experiences... it became easier. We gained acceptance.

Two cool things I learned about the community of people raising cleft babies during my pregnancy is that, (1) they are a big family, sharing tools and tips. I connected with many, many of them in an online group on www.babycenter.com (thank goodness for the internet!). (2) there are SO MANY resources here for cleft babies. We are so lucky to have wonderful doctors and programs here in the United States to support families going through this challenge. By far, though, the best part about these families I connected with? They saw so far beyond the cleft that they hardly saw the cleft at all. Their love for their child was evident no matter how severe the cleft was or how challenging their cleft-related issues were!

Then there was Lucy's cleft. When we met Lucy, her beauty was still very evident despite this "flaw." In fact (I've said it before and i'll say it again), the cleft was actually a major part of her beauty and uniqueness. It gave her whimsy and charm. It made her "Lucy." If the cleft had been an isolated issue, it would have been nothing. NOTHING. Totally fixable, doable.

Of course, in Lucy's case the cleft was related to her Trisomy 13 condition. It wasn't "just" the cleft. When we started realizing there was more to her condition, our focus changed significantly. I have learned a lot about Trisomy 13 since her birth. At this point I have actually even gotten the amazing opportunity to connect with another mother of a Trisomy 13 baby here locally. (The condition is quite rare, so the fact that I've connected with someone this close is a huge blessing!) And what I've realized in thinking back on all this is... I can't believe that we were that worried about the cleft!

I just keep remembering how TRAUMATIC it felt when we received the news of the cleft in our ultrasound. We were broken down and started having pity for ourselves over what our child (and whole family) would have to go through with surgeries, possible feeding issues, developmental delays, emotional and psychological issues, etc. I even worried that I would not love my child the same - that I would feel different somehow. Wow, now I'd give anything in the whole wide world for our sweet little cleft baby. Anything for it to have been a condition that we could have fixed. How we wish it was "just" a cleft.

And, shame on me.

How could I have questioned for a moment that I wouldn't love this baby the same?

I did.

I do.

I will.

Always.

Lullaby for Lucy

We want to share our little 'lullaby' for Lucy with our family & friends...

Today's reflection:

God is with you, every moment.

You just have to let Him in.

I hope that you will let Lucy's little light remind you of this.

Finally! The long-awaited photos!

We received the photos that were taken with Lucy in the hospital. As I mentioned before, we were blessed to have a volunteer photographer from (the incredibly amazing organization) Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep come to take photos of our family at the hospital before Lucy passed away. What a special gift to give a family that doesn't get to take their new baby home. These photos mean so much to us!!!

We were not prepared for this photo session, which was probably best (though I could have done without the greasy hair - ha). Lucy was a trooper through her first and only photo shoot. There was one set of photos that were taken right after Lucy was taken off of the ventilator (no tubes! no tape! hooray!)... then they did have to put a breathing tube in to make her more comfortable.

Seeing these pictures just takes us back to those moments. I literally woke up the other morning remembering exactly how Lucy smelled. And I remember kissing her face (what seemed like) a million times. But I needed more photos - something concrete and real to hold on to. I am so fearful I'll forget her scent, the feeling of those many kisses. But, oh! The pictures! I am so thankful that these precious and priceless moments are captured forever.

I thought I would be beyond emotional (in a sad way) to see these photos, but I was ecstatic! All smiles. I'm sure I will look at them many, many times and cry, but today I was just so happy to see them and be reminded of our special time with Lucy.

Here are a couple of my favorites.

SO THANKFUL.

Love, Love, Love.

The Real World "post-Lucy"

With today marking the 10th anniversary of 9/11, I've been thinking a lot about life and how a single tragic event can change the course of your life and offer perspective. I remember how people CAME TOGETHER after the world trade center attacks. It was truly moving. And still is. It's the good that comes from a bad situation.

After the initial shock of a tragedy, you start coming out of the fog, embracing you new life and your community. Differences with others may melt away. Hugs are more sincere. Conversations are more meaningful. You tend to appreciate what you have more.

After spending many weeks after Lucy's death in a complete state of shock and wandering around looking at the world through some very foggy vision, I'm feeling a bit more... "normal." I'm still in a great state of sadness, but I also realize that I must move forward. I keep dividing up my life experiences now into "pre-Lucy" and "post-Lucy" phases. My life seemed to freeze for a period of time and she has changed us forever. Lucy will never go away. Her presence will be felt in all I do. My real world experiences are quite different looking through "new" eyes, listening through "new" ears, talking with a "new" tongue and processing with a "new" brain. The world is profoundly different. No, I'm different.

It's tough finding the strength to tackle the real world post-Lucy at times. Some days I absolutely DREAD it, but I know that I need to get out of the house and resume normal activities slowly. Some days I'm up for the challenge and like to stay busy, other days I have a very difficult time with even the simplest tasks/errands. I feel like everything I do has the potential to turn me into a brain-numbing zombie or an emotional wreck.

For example, I went to the grocery store one day. There I saw a woman with a sleeping baby strapped to her chest. She had this beautiful motherly glow, a calm peaceful smile on her face. Normally I'd smile and tell her how beautiful her baby is - he was! But I just stared at her. She looked at me and her face showed her pride - her pride and love for her new baby. I hope I smiled. I might have actually looked like a deer in headlights. No idea. All I know is that I couldn't help but imagine how I would have been feeling right then if I had Lucy strapped to me. The girl behind the deli counter proceeded to ignore me to come out and fawn over the baby. I watched as they shared this special moment. I was almost mad - that was supposed to be ME holding the baby. It should have been MY baby being showered with attention. But, I had to remind myself not to take this personally and to calm my thoughts. There was certainly no way in the WORLD they could know I lost a baby just a short time ago - and thankfully I was wise enough to know that it would be beyond strange to offer up that info. Though I felt confused, sad and jealous at the time... I also later noted that (oh joy!) I still am capable of being happy for others. I understand that beautiful feeling of being a new mother. For that understanding, I am very blessed. I don't want to take that for granted.

What is more difficult than these types of encounters with strangers?

Running into people who know me, who have no idea what happened.

I was pregnant for NINE MONTHS... now I'm not. I went to my follow up appointment at the OB's office 2 weeks ago. There I saw one of the nurses I had seen throughout my pregnancy who came up and asked excitedly, "How's the BABY?" I had somewhat tried to prepare myself for the first time this was going to happen, but for some reason I just froze and said "She DIED." Nothing else. Why I stated these words in such a raw, crazy way I have no idea. The poor girl of course felt AWFUL, and we both burst into tears. Now looking back on it and experiencing it more here and there, I know IT DOES GET EASIER. Not EASY, but easier.

Hi-Ho, Hi-Ho, it's back to work I go.

I am now officially back to work. It's scary. It's weird. But, it's good too. I just feel so different sometimes, like it's an out-of-body experience just to be there trying to sell advertising. Then other times it feels so normal and comfortable that I end up feeling guilty - like I'm moving on too quickly. I imagine this is a normal part of the grief process. But it's just odd.

I am reminded that the absolute best part about my job is connecting with fabulous people all day long. I'm close with a great number of people (co-workers and clients) that I have worked with for quite some time. I am truly feeling the warmth of love and compassion. I am right where God needs me to be.

I'm also experiencing healing in talking about Lucy. You know what I realize more and more every day? I LOVE to talk about her. And if I ever had qualms about bragging about my kids before, I have no problem with that now. Absolutely no problem. Lucy was AWESOME. Avery is freaking amazing. A-MA-ZING. Ask me about either one of them... but be prepared... I may be in the mood for some bragging or, if you get really lucky, TMI. We're potty-training, after all!

So, that's a little snippet of what I've been experiencing lately. I knew that learning the "new normal" would be strange, and now I can confirm that it sure is. But it's becoming do-able, and that's a good thing.

Special Treat with Extra Toppings

Yesterday I sat down to write a note to Lucy's doctor and one of the nurses that touched our lives when Lucy was in the NICU at CMC. I knew I had wanted to do it, but I just hadn't been able to bring myself to do it yet. I almost didn't want to resign myself to it because I felt like it meant I was closing a door, a chapter of my life.

But, they needed to know how we felt. Through the care we received from the staff there in the hospital we knew God was with us and it became clear that this series of events fit (though somewhat tragically for us at the time) into His bigger, master plan. Not that God CAUSED Lucy's death, but that he may have allowed it in knowing it was serving a bigger purpose. It was so clear it was a part of His divine plan by the smooth, peaceful way the events flowed - nothing felt "out of order" as it was happening. Sad, but not "out of order." That's the only way I can find to describe it right at this moment.

The first thing I want to point out is that throughout my pregnancy I prayed a lot. And at some point I started praying very earnestly that God would provide all of the care we needed for our child. That he would put all of the right people in the right places at the right time. I believed that He would, and He did. Jeff and I literally would look at each other at certain moments in the hospital with Lucy where someone would just walk into the room, say one thing we needed to hear and then walk out - true "Godsends." God sends. Yes, God sent people in this case - the RIGHT people. He promised He would provide.

Some of those people were there throughout the course of our journey...

Dr. Andrew Herman was the doctor who initially received Lucy into the NICU. He walked with us throughout her stay there. The day he admitted her to the NICU, he came to my hospital room and told me that Lucy was a "special treat with extra toppings." None of us knew what those extra toppings were at that time (he also said "I deal with a lot of VERY sick babies, and Lucy is not a VERY sick baby"), and none of us could have known yet how serious they really were. We also had no idea how much of a blessing our sweet girl would be either! Throughout Lucy's time in the NICU Dr. Herman was there to give us crucial updates and deliver her diagnosis. He was also there when Lucy took her final breaths. He even heard her sweet sighs during our final night with her. (Without him asking if she was trying to coo I would have thought I made it up in my head). I said to him at one point... "Do you ever go HOME?" He was with us every step of the journey it seemed. He was the first person to remind us of God's plan in all this when he said "I do NOT believe in chance." Yup, Lucy was meant to be ours for a short time, but ultimately she was God's. After he delivered Lucy's diagnosis, he reached for our hands and prayed with us. We knew we wouldn't have Lucy long, but he reassured us that she was going to be ok, telling us "Lucy is innocent in all of this. She will have a front row seat in heaven."

Lucy's nurse Amy Copley was amazing. She was with Lucy for two full days, Thursday and Friday - before we got Lucy's diagnosis. She was so caring and sweet, genuinely celebrating each of Lucy's small victories with us. Whether it was the fact that she handled the testing well, or held her oxygen levels through the night, she rejoiced with us. She called us with a sense of pride to tell us when Lucy cooperated well through the spinal tap testing she had to endure. Her dedication and thorough care was so apparent to us. She was also there with Dr. Herman as he delivered Lucy's diagnosis, crying with us and comforting us. I felt her genuine devastation for our family. We didn't see Nurse Copley over the weekend, but it just so happened that Amy's next shift was immediately following Lucy's death on Monday, July 25th. She helped us get footprints and handprints made and bathe Lucy's sweet little body, more of a ritual for us then anything. It did provide closure in some way, but Lucy was already gone. By the way, I should point out that handprints/footprints are not easy to get - I actually was able to laugh in the moment imagining Lucy looking down from heaven thinking "Mom, you are terrible at this," but also hoping that she saw how much I cared! Just having Amy's presence with us throughout the journey was a huge blessing.

Other people we came into contact with were there in very key moments, providing clarity through confusion...

Lucy's nurse on Sunday - Georgia. In a moment of pure confusion when we took Lucy off the ventilator, Georgia was the nurse who encouraged us to get Avery up to the hospital immediately. I think she sensed the final moments were upon us and knew we needed time as a family. I had hesitated knowing Avery would have to be woken up from her nap and Georgia reminded me I wouldn't get these moments back. We called. We needed Avery there. My mom woke Avery up, luring her with a cookie to hurry her along. That was the day we got to spend as a family with Lucy - her final full day here. I am SO glad that someone was there to make sure Avery was with us. I was so focused on Lucy that had I forgotten to get Avery up there, she would have missed so much. Now because of Georgia's advice we have a lifetime of memories from that day and we will be able to tell Avery stories time and time again. (Avery and I just giggled last night about how she kept trying to lick Lucy's head - silly girl!) Jeff and I also got to wrap our arms around both of our little girls - together, at the same time - a real-life family of 4! It truly felt like it that day. So thankful. When I thanked Georgia later that day, she told me that she had lost a baby at 22 weeks and she remembers the confusion of it all and how she just needed people to tell her what to do, to think for her when she couldn't think for herself. So you're saying God uses our life experiences to help others? Uh-huh. And do we think it was a coincidence that Georgia just happened to be the nurse with us that day? NOPE. To think that we may be that voice to someone else one day and provide that kind of insight is pretty amazing.

Honestly, I don't remember what her title actually was... but I remember Cindy. She seemed to be all over the place and kept continually checking in on us that Sunday that we took Lucy off the ventilator. The one thing I remember clear as day is that she came in and delivered advice to us when we needed it. We were debating if we should stay or go from the hospital on Sunday night, and since Lucy had done fairly well off the ventilator, we were almost feeling that we should go home and just get back as early as we could the next morning. That everything would be fine. I think I knew in my heart of hearts that we needed to stay, but I needed a clear message... it was all very confusing and I couldn't make a decision. Cindy came in as we were talking about it. There was just this giant PAUSE in conversation, and Cindy quietly asked, "Can I give you some advice?" I nodded desperately, thinking, 'Yes, PLEASE, somebody somehow tell us what to DO.' And she said calmly, "I think you should stay tonight." I think I was waiting for God to make it clear what we needed to do and it was VERY crystal clear through her advice. Thank you for that message - we heard it. Lucy passed away deep into the night, as Sunday night peaked to Monday morning. We got precious hours with her that we would not have gotten had we not stayed.

...

Lucy's life was short and that seems unfair. But when I watch Avery get pushed over on the playground, well, that's not fair either. Lucy will not have to experience the hardships that life brings. She won't have to endure the many surgeries that would have been headed her way. What she experienced in her little life was pure, unconditional LOVE and exceptional CARE. When I think about that, it makes me so joyful.

Lucy was truly our "special treat with extra toppings." She will never have to know anything different. And we will never know anything different either. So add another scoop of sprinkles to my ice cream, and add a drizzle of hot fudge, too. I like my treats with the extra toppings!

5 years

Happy 5th Anniversary to us!

When I think about the fact that we have known each other for over 10 years, in many ways "5 years" just doesn't sound right. But, on the day of our wedding five years ago we publicly committed to walk together for the rest of our lives, "for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do us part." Wow, I love reading those words. Intense to think about forever, right?

We have grown, changed and evolved so much as individuals and also as a couple over the years. On our wedding day we didn't know all that 5 years would hold... the fun and exciting times as well as the emotional and tragic times. But, we vowed to do it all together. I can't think of anyone who I'd rather be experiencing life and love with.

We have found that in the depths of our sorrow we have been reminded of how important a marital bond is (when we've had to cling to one another for strength and support). We also remind each other what it feels like to laugh from time to time, and certainly what it's like to be thankful.

Losing our precious Lucy has sure taught me a lot, but most importantly she has taught me to appreciate what I have. Love, respect and loyalty to this man, and to my family.

I really feel like we don't take many photos of just the two of us nowadays, and certainly haven't felt like it lately... but this weekend I made us flip the camera around and take a photo together. (I was skeptical for many reasons, one of them being that when I'm holding the camera out we usually have 10 chins, but hey, not too bad if I do say so myself):

Though we do look older, eh?

What's that?...

Did I hear someone say "more mature"?

OK, we'll take it.