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.

Baby Sister

Wow - one whole month since Lucy's birth. The days sure can drag, but the time passes so quickly at the same time.

I'm so fearful I'll forget my little angel. I won't, but she was here so briefly that I need to recount my first moments with her - the night we met. When Lucy entered the world, she hardly made a peep - she was so calm, so peaceful. But it was all so... scary! They had prepped me for it, but still I was frantic as my midwife handed her immediately to the neonatal team that was in our room so she could be examined. She had made it full-term at 38 weeks, but her growth had slowed so much that they had no choice but to induce me. The slowed growth, plus the other known factors had me so worried. I was anxious to hear her and see her. To love her.

Once they told us she was breathing great and was fine to go to the regular nursery for the night, she was brought over to me and Jeff - we were absolutely amazed by her - and so hopeful. We were allowed to stay in our delivery room for almost 4 hours and my parents and Avery came in to meet her. Avery was quite curious about her little sister, who still did not have a name at that moment so we kept calling her "baby sister." (Never mind the fact that I had convinced myself and everyone I knew that I was having a boy... but that's a whole different blog post. I was SO wrong!).

Now, speaking of the blog, if you've been visiting here for a while you know that The White Family blog started out as Jeff's movie and TV show review space, and quickly got taken over by me (shame on me) when I got pregnant and wanted to give family updates. Then it pretty much turned into the 'Avery Show' when little miss was born. We started using the blog to give updates to our family and friends detailing Avery's monthly milestones - something I stopped around 18 months. Part of the reason I stopped was because I was pregnant again and wondered if I would really be able to keep up with Avery's monthly updates AND start doing monthly updates for baby #2, too. Little did I know what kind of updates I would be doing at this point.

So, it's one month after Lucy's birth. And though she may not be here with us, she is very much a part of our lives. Every time we drive even remotely near the hospital Avery says, "That's where my baby sister lives." Out of the blue she will ask, "We see Baby Lucy, Mommy?" and she will also make statements, with confidence, like "Lucy, come home with me!" Avery asks to see pictures of Lucy almost every day and she will spread them out on the couch, rub her hands over them, and kiss them.

I want to remember a certain moment with Avery from the night of Lucy's passing. Avery was so fixated on seeing Lucy and bringing her home that night, oblivious to the tragedy that had occurred earlier that day. I realized that she was invested too, just like we were, and we needed to have a straight conversation with her and tell her Lucy wasn't coming home. I had gone in to change her and put her to bed and she asked, "You and Daddy go sleep at the hospital with baby sister?"

me: "No, not tonight. We aren't going to sleep at the hospital."

A: "You not sleep at hospital? Baby Lucy come home?"

me: "No, sweetie, Lucy is not coming home..." (tears welling in my eyes)

A: "What wrong, Mommy?"

me: "Mommy is just sad because baby Lucy isn't coming home."

A: "Why?"

me: "Because she went to be in heaven. She went to be with Jesus."

A: "I want to be with Jesus."

me: "You are with Jesus... he's here with us now. But Lucy was called up to heaven. She will be our angel watching over us."

A: "I want to be an angel."

me: "Well, you are meant to be with Daddy and Mommy right where you are. You know what? We need you here."

A: "OK, Mommy."

I don't know that Avery will remember Lucy or what we are going through right now. But I am so glad that she asks about her, and that we have pictures she can look at together, and that we can talk openly and lovingly around her. Avery and I went and made matching beaded bracelets with angel wings and she calls her new bling her "angel bracelet." I call mine my Lucy bracelet.

Avery will always have her baby sister. I have two baby sisters myself. I can't imagine a day without them. Even through the years when we tortured and tormented one another, my sisters were everything to me. Even though I have faith that my two little girls will have the opportunity to reunite in heaven one day, I'm saddened by the fact that they won't be able to run and play, kiss and hug, and yes, even pull each others hair... here on earth. Talk about a true test of patience. One day, one day. (Well, hopefully without the "pulling each other's hair" part!) ;)

I pray that Avery will always carry a piece of Lucy in her heart by knowing one day how much she made her parents smile even in our darkest of moments. We will always remember Lucy, Avery's baby sister.

Not fair.

Today I spent all morning feeling bad for myself. Pitying poor me. Wishing life had shaken out differently for my family. Let me be straight with you... right now I spend a lot of time feeling like life isn't fair.

Not fair, not fair, not fair.

No matter how strong I can feel, sometimes I just want to be SAD. And this morning I was feeling particularly sad and frustrated. And you know what? I'm actually "ok" with that from time to time. But I'm not ok when my feelings cross into the dangerous terrain of jealousy.

Even with embracing my sadness (and knowing it is perfectly normal), I was still feeling self-pity and wondering why me? And I was burdened with jealousy rearing it's ugly head. Then I thought about the fact that I forgot to read my little devotional today, and figured I could really use a pick-me-up.

So I opened my book up to today's date. This is what it said:

"Accept each day just as it comes to you. Do not waste your time and energy wishing for a different set of circumstances. Instead, trust Me enough to yield to My design and purposes. Remember that nothing can separate you from My loving Presence; you are Mine."

Um, I realize that this is easier said than done...

(Let's face it, I can waste a lot of time and energy even on a good day!)

But I definitely needed this reminder today.