My 2nd First Mother's Day

Mother's Day is this weekend and for me it is the start of the memories. Yes, I was 20 weeks pregnant by this time last year so there are memories from before but most of my memories of my pregnancy and Logan's life seem to start this time last year.

You see, last year was my first Mother's Day. I was so excited because I had just started to feel the baby (remember we didn't know the gender at this point) moving enough for others to feel as well. We spent that weekend at my parent's house because the Monday after we had our 20 week ultrasound and I was leaving for Denver for a week-long business trip after the appointment. We had two ultrasounds before this one but the 20 week one was the first where we could actually see our baby looking like a baby. It made it so real for me and I spent every free minute on my business trip looking at the pictures. I got back from Denver on May 16, 2008. One month later I was hospitalized, praying that my body would not go into labor so that my child could have a fighting chance.

So Sunday is my 2nd first Mother's Day. It's my first Mother's Day without my son. And it's going to be a very hard day. It's going to be a day that will begin a series of very hard days. So if you see me/talk to me and I'm not my normal self or you don't see me/talk to me when you expected to, know that I am dealing with a lot of "Last year on this day I was..."


On another topic, this blog was put together to further my mission to help other Angel Mommies by making teddy bears. And I want to update everyone on that mission. I have 6 teddy bears completely finished. Let me know what you think!

In addition to that I probably have 15 or so that just need to be stuffed. We took down the nursery stuff last weekend and turned that room into a crafting room for me. I'm hoping that it will help me stay organized and get more work done, but I've been so busy since we got the room ready that I haven't done any sewing at all. But the weekend's almost here and I have 5 bears cut out and waiting for me so hopefully I'll get them finished. I can't wait to be able to post a picture with 30-50 finished bears!

The Middle

I haven't really been feeling very uplifted or hopeful lately. I've been suffering from a lot of doubts. I've started asking the questions again, why Logan?, why us?, why me? Why does it keep getting harder? Haven't we been through enough? Are we just not meant to have children on this earth?

And when I start thinking like this, people tell me to relax, not to stress, of course we'll have other children. But the truth is that no one knows that for sure, no one can answer any of my questions. Except God. And He's in no hurry to give me the answers. Because He knows how the story ends. He knows whether or not we will have more children. He knows his/hers/their genders and the exact date and time of his/hers/their birth. He knows the exact time of his/hers/their death. And He is patient.

I am not as patient, I’m a planner. I sometimes think that if I just knew the answers I could be patient, I could wait. But if I knew that on May 1, 2010 I would be bringing home a healthy baby, would I really patiently await that day? Probably not. I'd probably I know I would be counting down the 365 days. I’d be trying to figure out exactly when I’d get that positive pregnancy test and exactly when the baby would be born and exactly when I’d have to go back to work. I’d be planning birthday parties and Christmases and I’d miss a year of my life.

If there’s one thing I’m learning through all of this it is that we have to take life the way God gives it to us: one day, one hour, one moment at a time. I can be very stubborn so it’s taking a lot to get it into my head, but slowly it’s getting there. While I was in the hospital, I was told that every day was a victory. I got twelve of them. When Logan was born the doctors told us that his condition could change in a moment. We got 17 days full of moments. When Logan died, people who had been through this grief before, told me to take it one day at a time. Even now, as far as my grief journey is concerned, I’m doing that.

I say all of this while I hold back tears, because I don’t want to wait. I don’t want to have to be patient. I want to know the answers to all of my questions. Now. But I know my God has not left me. I know He’s telling me, “Be patient, good things will come”. I know that however my story ends, it will be good.

But oh, how the middle hurts!

The Good and the Bad

Yesterday was a BAD day.


First, I realized all of a sudden that June is almost here. I'm not really looking forward to that month.


Then I read MckMama's blog about Stellan's not so great test results. It made me think about the hospital stay she is enduring and in turn, the hospital stay we endured.


Then I watched Grey's Anatomy. If you watch the show, you know why I cried.


And to sum it all up, Doug and I took Callie (the Westie) and Bella (the Jack Rat) on a walk and Max (the cat) followed behind us like always. But yesterday was a BAD day, and while we were less than 30 feet away from him, he was hit by a car. Max was a great cat and luckily he did not suffer but it was so hard.


Today was a GOOD day.

We walked 2 1/2 miles for babies today.


There were hundreds of people at the event and it was a lot of fun.


Balloons were released in memory of the babies who died.


Did I mention that we walked 2 1/2 miles?


And Molly finished first! (from our small team that is)


I'm sure that everyone there had a story or a reason for being there, here's one. There was a wonderful Mommy who had a son who was born and died on the same day at just 20 weeks gestation. She was at the walk with her daughter who was born at 33 weeks and is now 6 months old. She told us that the babies were born 10 years apart and she told us how blessed they were to have their daughter.


Today was a Logan Day.


Before the walk we went to Jeffers Pets and we were asked about our shirts and told our story. At the walk people asked about our shirts, and we told our story. After the walk, we went to Logan's (Roadhouse, that is) and the waitress asked about the March for Babies.


And on another note...



This little guy was brought into our lives when we stopped by Petsmart after the March. I didn't realize I was ready, but I guess I am. Let me know if you have any name ideas!

March for Babies

Our walk is only 10 days away and we got our shirts today which we will be wearing with pride on Apr. 25. Logan's name is made up of the names of all the angel babies whose Mom's are part of my support groups.

Butterflies

This spring Doug and I put in a memorial garden in our front yard. We planted the garden to attract butterflies and we ordered caterpillars so that we could release some butterflies into our new garden.

So today is the 9 month anniversary of the day Logan died and guess what we got....

Kind of poetic, huh?

Crucify Him

As a Catholic, Palm Sunday is a very important day. It starts Holy Week and gets us prepared for the Easter holiday. On Palm Sunday we always start mass outside where we read from the gospel and receive palms. (Honestly, I don't have any deep, moving explanation for the palms other than that the people welcoming Jesus into Jerusalem spread palms on the ground for him.) Then we process into the church where we basically do everything just like a regular mass. That is until you get to the gospel reading. Because of course, we've already read from the gospel. At this point in the mass we read the Passion of Christ.

The reading of the Passion is done with multiple readers: one narrator, one person who reads the parts of several main characters such as Peter and Judas, the Priest reads the part of Jesus, and then all of the members of the congregation read the part of the crowd. When Pilate offers to release one prisoner to the crowd they ask for Barrabas and Pilate asks what should be done with Jesus. The crowd, at the urging of the chief priests, answers "Crucify him!". Pilate gives them a couple of chances to change their minds but they only say, more vehemently, "Crucify him!".

I have never really liked being part of the crowd. And this past Sunday I realized why. Reading that part, being one of the ones to say, "Crucify him!" makes me think about the times in my life when I have said "Crucify him!".

Not that Jesus and Barrabas have ever been put before me to choose which to release but I think in our everyday lives we are given a choice and sometimes we choose against Jesus, we shout "Crucify him!".

When Doug and I went to the hospital on July 14, 2008 the nurses asked if we would like to have the chaplain come. We immediately said yes and they went to call him. The chaplain didn't make it until well after Logan had died and when he came in to pray with us, I wanted to scream at him to leave. I didn't participate in the prayer at all. I sat there thinking that if this man had just come to pray sooner my son might be alive, that if God/Jesus hadn't left me my son would be alive. But I was wrong. I chose the easy way. I chose to blame Him for my suffering. I wanted to turn my back on Him. I shouted "Crucify him!"

But He didn't turn his back on me. He knew my suffering, because He's been there.

He advanced a little and fell to the ground and prayed that if it were possible the hour might pass by him; he said, "Abba, Father, all things are possible to you. Take this cup away from me,but not what I will but what you will.
Mark 14: 35-36

Even Jesus asked that he be spared from suffering but the difference is that Jesus knew that God would do what was best. Sitting there holding Logan's body I wanted it to be different. I didn't want to trust that He had done what was right. I thought he was punishing me and I wanted to punish him right back.

But still he didn't turn his back on me. He is merciful and forgiving and he loves us as long as we are willing to accept his love. It is my goal to recognize the moments in my life when Pilate gives me the opportunity to release Jesus. It is my goal to be strong enough to say "Free him!" more vehemently than those in the crowd that day (or in our world today) said "Crucify him!".

--
My church has decided to recognize Friday at 3pm as the moment when Jesus died. We don't know that that's the right time, but the important thing is that we take a moment to recognize that he did die... for us. So at 3pm on Friday I'm going to get down on my knees and I'm going to thank Him for all that he has done for me. I'm going to tell Him how sorry I am that He had to suffer for me. And I'm going to tell Him how sorry I am for being one of those who shouted "Crucify him!".

Keith

So this weekend was a kind of difficult weekend for me. We went to Kentucky for a friend's wedding shower and I was faced with seeing my Grandmother for the first time since Logan was born. Now, you have to understand that my Grandmother lost her first born son to similar circumstances and while I was in the hospital and then when Logan was in the hospital, she called practically everyday to see how we were doing. However, when Logan died she didn't call me and was unable to come to the funeral. So I had not seen or talked to her since then and honestly I wasn't sure how easy it was going to be to see her now. Also, I visited with my late Grandpa's identical twin brother, which is never easy, but was made more difficult because of his loss of a son. And to finish it off, I was seeing a friend of mine, who is around 20 weeks pregnant, for the first time since her wedding.

Things with my Grandmother went pretty smoothly. She gave me this beautiful angel...

and we talked about the emotions but it was a very peaceful visit. I don't think I cried once.


I was very anxious about visiting with my pregnant friend because I was afraid she was going to have a one-track mind and want to talk baby, baby, baby but she was very laid back and we just talked about other stuff and left the whole baby topic untouched.

But the visit with my Grandpa's twin is really what I want to talk about.

First of all, my Grandpa passed away in February 2007. He had cancer and when he died he didn't really look anything like himself. My Grandpa didn't want any of his grandchildren to see him in the days and weeks before he died, so the wake was very difficult because it was hard to believe that the body we were seeing in the casket was Grandpa. Then, here comes this man walking in who looks EXACTLY like our Grandpa. I can remember looking up and thinking, "What's Grandpa doing here?". I think just about everyone there had a moment similar to mine.

Now, my Grandpa (and his twin, obviously) was born on Dec. 26, which just happens to be my birthday as well. And, every year I would call my Grandpa or he would call me and we would wish each other a Happy Birthday. In fact, when I was young I would get confused and when people would say Happy Birthday to me I would return with "Happy Birthday to you too!". So at my Grandpa's funeral I asked his twin if I could call him on our birthday's and as we cried he gave me his phone number. Since my the funeral, we have visited with my great-uncle Bobby every time we go to Kentucky. His health is failing and my mom warned me many times that he may not make it to that first birthday, and then the second, but he's still here and this year I was told that he was waiting by the phone for my call.

It was that birthday call that kind of started this post, even though I didn't know it then. When I called my great-uncle he told me that he was praying for me and that he prayed to Logan everyday. He told me that I had a great-great-uncle named Logan and then he shocked me when he said that he and his wife had lost a baby as well.

This weekend my Mom had planned to visit him but didn't know if we would want to go so she didn't tell him we would be in Kentucky as well. So when we showed up at the door, he was very pleasantly surprised. And almost the first thing he asked me was "Are you pregnant again?". Now, you should know that we are trying to get pregnant again but have had some problems in that area so the question was kind of difficult for me. I told him that I wasn't, unless there was something that he knew, that I didn't :)

My great-uncle has a den that is covered with pictures and this is where we sat to talk. The pictures run the gamut, from pictures of him, his children and grandchildren to old signs, religious paintings and political posters. As we were sitting there talking I noticed a small picture of the opposite side of this huge room, right next to a picture of the Blessed Virgin Mary. As we sat there I stared and it. It looked like a picture of a tiny open casket but I couldn't be sure and I didn't want to stop the conversation to ask. So as we were getting up to leave, I slowly approached that picture to get a closer look. I was trying to make it look like I was just leaving the room, just in case I was wrong. But as I approached the picture took my breath away.

The picture was a tiny baby, laying in a tiny casket and the baby looked almost exactly like Logan looked after he died. My great-uncle came over and I asked him about the picture and he told me about Keith. Keith was born in 1962 and lived only one day. My great-uncle told me that there was nothing visible wrong with him and honestly, I'm not sure how early he was born, or even if he was early at all because at that moment I couldn't ask the questions. But as I stood there shaking and crying I showed my Mom the picture and she agreed that Logan looked like Keith. We then showed my great-uncle the pictures of Logan and we talked about the wonderful 17 days we had with him and all the great memories and tangible items we have from his life.

You see, all my great-uncle has of his son is a 4x6 picture of a tiny baby in a tiny casket, that he didn't even know his mother had taken. Bless that woman for knowing how much it would mean to them. My Grandmother has even less, just a picture in her head because her son was born and died in 1947 and they didn't have a camera.

Now, let's go back a little bit to the day Logan died. We were there, holding Logan as he passed into heaven and afterwards we were given a room to sit in with him and spend some more time saying our goodbyes. I know that my son was not in that body that we held so tightly that day but truly believe he was there in that room, watching us love on him in a way we had not been able to while he was alive. Because the hospital was 2 hours away from our home, and the place where Logan would be buried, we were given the opportunity to take his body to the funeral home ourselves. Many people would probably think that was crazy but we were given two hours with our son, we were able to let all four of his grandparents hold him for the first and last time. That day, we were instructed to go immediately to the funeral home and were told that when we got there we would have to hand over his body immediately. However, the funeral director told us to take as much time as we needed when we arrived.

The funeral director also told us that there was a chance we would have to have a closed casket because of how tiny Logan was. He encouraged me to spend as much time as I wanted with my son's body even as I handed Logan to him. I told him then what will always be true, there is never enough time. However, I did not truly understand that I would not see my son again. As we were leaving and he continued to remind us that it may have to be a closed casket it went through my head to ask to see my son one last time, for just a moment before we left. But at the time it seemed like a silly request because I was sure I would get to see him, laying peacefully among little white blankets, with a tiny pillow, in that casket. I didn't get that chance and have regretted not asking ever since. During the funeral I couldn't keep my mind off of seeing my baby boy and I kept thinking about just opening the casket myself so that I could see him. I know that that would have been a BAD idea. I know that I didn't need to see my son like that, but I wanted one last look.

It is AMAZING how God works. For months now I have talked to Him about my missed opportunity and I always thought that if I got the chance to see Logan it would be in my dreams. But this weekend God gave me that chance in a way that I will never forget. I can't say how much Keith and Logan looked alike in life but I do know that in death, in that little picture, they were as close to identical as two distant cousins can possibly be. I now have a picture, at least in my head, of what my son would have looked like laying peacefully in his casket and honestly, I think God did it this way on purpose. I think he made it easier on me, not having to watch that lid close on my son but getting to see him in a picture that may not have been from 1962.

Anna