Saying Goodbye

"Dear Jesus, thank you that our baby is sitting on your lap and thank you for helping us not be sad," our five year old daughter prayed.  I smiled through tears at the faith of a child who knows to breath thanks even when it hurts.

This is the hope we have and we cling to this.  We know where our baby Hope is and we know where our real Hope is.  We know there will be a day when all our tears will be wiped away and we will see our baby Hope in heaven. 

Still, saying goodbye for now is so very hard.

Saying goodbye to the baby you never really knew is even harder.  

As my body did the hard work of letting go, my heart was still not quite ready.  I so desperately wanted this baby and, as a mother, this little one is already so much a part of me.  I knew I needed a tangible way to fully let go and say goodbye, so I asked my family if they'd be willing to participate in a balloon release farewell last weekend.

"We'll do anything for you," they said and I nearly cried again at the love continuing to pour out on our family.  I've seen my family pull together through so many hard times and still I'm in awe of the lifelong bond and commitment to each other they display time and time again. 

Saturday morning, we packed up the van again and drove to my parents' house after Valerie's dance class.  The kids ate a quick lunch and then took naps while I worked on making these memory pins and preparing a little memorial service for our baby Hope.

I wanted to write something on my own, but I felt so lost for words that day.  Friday was an extremely difficult day for me as my heart and body ached for the emptiness in my womb.  I just felt so spent emotionally and physically.

Instead, I found this beautiful poem and adapted it for our baby Hope.  Ted read it as my family gathered around in a circle.  I thought for sure I would cry again, but, somehow, seeing the tears in their eyes and the love they already felt for our baby, I felt a peace and a strength I didn't know.  Only God...

After Ted read the poem, I spoke about how what Hope's name meant to us and explained how the song, It Is Well, has been such a comfort to us.  Then, with printed lyrics and music found online, we sang together.

When the song ended, everyone picked a balloon with a note I had made tied to the strings remembering our baby Hope.  Even though it was dark and cold, we gathered outside in my parents' backyard and watched our balloons float away.  It was so healing to physically let go of the balloon and imagine them floating up to the heavens where our baby sat safely cradled in the arms of Jesus.  One lone pink balloon became tangled in my parents' tree and it was a sign for me that Hope was still with us, always.

The Story Of Baby Hope

I've shared over on my personal blog the heartache our family is grieving right now, but I wanted to share some more here of how this has affected us as a family...

***

Nearly a month ago, we announced with great joy and expectation that our family would be growing by one more sweet little baby.  When I told the kids, Valerie screamed and yelled, "A baby?!?  I WANTED another baby!  Cuz I really, really want a sister!"  Almanzo was excited too, but Valerie was absolutely ecstatic.  They decorated pumpkins and smiled for photos to share our news and we all thanked God for this littlest blessing already being knit together in my womb.

I even shared an early belly photo, laughing at how quickly my body was remembering how to change to grow a baby.  Valerie would grin and tell me each morning, "Oh!  Your belly is already getting bigger, mommy!"  Already my pants were getting tight and I was imagining pulling out my maternity clothes and anticipating eagerly the blessing of holding another newborn baby in my arms before our eighth wedding anniversary. 

Almost four years ago, in the midst of a really hard battle with postpartum depression and anxiety, I thought for sure my dreams of being a mother of four was impossibly out of reach.  It is only by God's grace that I made it out of that battle victorious and I found myself daily standing in awe of the God who heard my heart's cry and placed our fourth child so carefully in my womb.

And then the bleeding started.  

I choked back tears as I rushed to tell Ted and he held me as we prayed for answers...and, really, a miracle.  We desperately wanted this baby, but, somehow, I knew.  We were losing our precious baby.  We told Ted's mom and she held me as I cried more, offering such tremendous support that only someone who has been there can do. 

By Monday morning, despite Ted's best effort to keep hoping until we knew for sure, even he was beginning to doubt this story would have a good ending.  After lunch, he drove me to the nearest Urgent Care and for the rest of the afternoon I was cared for so gently and tenderly by a doctor and nurses who seemed to grieve right along with us.  An ultrasound and blood work confirmed our fears: our baby had died around 6 weeks and now, at just over 8 weeks, my body was accepting and letting go.

Poor Oliver didn't know how to handle seeing mommy in a hospital gown and hooked up to an IV.  Ted attempted to rock him to sleep but he was not happy that mommy couldn't hold him.  Ted had to finally drive around until he fell asleep and then sat in the car waiting for me.  At just over 1 year old, our Ollie is still enjoying mommy's milk, especially at nap time and bed time.  I'm so grateful for those quiet moments when he is still curled up in my arms nursing, because there is nothing more calming and peaceful when my heart is breaking. 

After I was discharged, I walked slowly out to the car, willing myself to move when all I wanted to do was cry.  When I sat down in the passenger seat, I somehow found the words to tell Ted and then he held me as the tears came rushing in and he prayed over our grieving hearts for healing and comfort in the days to come. 

When we returned to Ted's childhood home, Valerie greeted me with concern in her eyes and an earnest question, "Is the baby still in your belly, mommy?"  I fell to my knees and told her through broken words that our baby was no longer alive but with Jesus and I watched as her own heart broke.  It nearly undid me to see her ache so much for the baby she wanted nearly as much as we did.  As I finished telling her, she grabbed hold of my shoulders and pulled me close.  I held her like that for a while in the silence of our shared grief. 

It wasn't until bed time that her tears came, when, in her own broken words, she spoke, "But...I...but...I...just...really...wanted...this...baby!"  I held her as sobs shook her little body and my own tears mixed with hers.  For a five year old, she already has the most tender and compassionate heart and she understands far more than we often realize.  Just like her mommy, she feels emotions so deeply, but, still, it took me by surprise how much she grieved for our baby.

Tuesday morning, we drove back home, leaving Michigan mid morning and arriving back home in Wisconsin just in time for dinner.  The doctor at the Urgent Care had told me our baby was no longer alive, but I had still not actually miscarried, so the entire drive home was miserable as my body did the hard work of continuing to let go.

It wasn't until mid morning Wednesday, after Ted was already at work and our three kids were playing and laughing and filling our home with noise that my body finally let go.  I rushed to the bathroom as more intense cramping took over and watched as our tiniest little one was born.  Though barely recognizable as a baby, I could still see tiny little arm buds and a little body curved into a C still waiting to be fully formed.  No matter how small, a mother's heart still knows and feels the tiniest little life. 

I sent Ted a text at work: "Baby just passed.  Bigger than I expected.  It hurts..."  He called me almost immediately, which is unusual for him, but we were both grieving this loss together.  Somehow, I went through the motions of making lunch for the kids, putting them all down for naps, and then driving to our local clinic to hand over our baby for testing.  I wrote on my facebook page about the way the nurses there treated me with so much disrespect and callousness.  They didn't offer a single ounce of sympathy or support, but spoke to me in a rush as though I was wasting their time.  I still have to write that letter, because no mom should have to listen to a nurse talk about her baby, no matter how small, as a piece of "tissue" instead of the lost life she is so deeply grieving. 

That night, we talked with the kids more about our baby and how we were going to name our baby Hope.  We won't know for sure the gender of our baby until we see our baby in heaven, but both Valerie and I have been imagining our baby as a girl.  I can't explain how I know, but somehow I just know.  Valerie has been insistent from the beginning that our baby was a girl too and, often, she has been right about these convictions. 

Another part of the reason we named our baby Hope is because of the real Hope we have in the God who is still good and is a sure and steadfast anchor in the storms of life.  We will always miss our Hope baby, but we know, even in our grief, that our baby is safe in the arms of Jesus and that one day we will be reunited.  We don't know why and we will always wonder what life would be like if our baby was still here, but none of that changes who God is and the real Hope we have in Him. 

Nine Months Old

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(shhh...don't tell anyone these photos were actually taken this morning...just a few days shy of turning 10 months old...because this momma of three would NEVER forget until the last minute...ha!)

July 12, 2013

It's hard to believe that he's now been in our arms longer than we waited for his arrival as he grew in the safety of my womb. And yet, it's hard to imagine our lives before he arrived. He makes us laugh with every new baby babble and silly monkey moves he makes. He loves to climb EVERY thing in sight, just like his big brother, and I swear he knows when he is being silly already.

He talks himself to sleep and he is starting to babble in his own little language. I thought I heard him say "mama" the other day, but it may have been wishful thinking. He certainly KNOWS who his momma is though, because there's no one else who can soothe him quite as well as momma. He may be constantly on the move, but the moment he is hungry or tired, he is only happy when he is curled up in my arms.

He is learning how to walk - yes, WALK! - already by holding onto furniture or pushing anything that moves across the room. He will hold onto just one of my hands and walk to daddy and he ALMOST let go and took a step unassisted the other night.

He gets so excited when daddy gets home, making a bee line for him, crawling at warp speed, and nearly climbing up his legs to get in his arms. He ADORES his big sister and big brother, but his biggest smiles and funniest laughs are reserved for his big sister. Just one look from her and he dissolves in giggles!

He seems to think his big brother is his personal jungle gym as he tries to wrestle him to the ground and pounds on his back with glee. I can only imagine the wrestling matches and adventures these two boys will have as they grow. They will probably give me a heart attack, because they have NO fear and when they combine their love of adventure, we are ALL in trouble! But, oh, how I love being his momma and I wouldn't trade this life for anything in the world.

Eight Months Old

June 12, 2013

Our sweet Ollie is EIGHT months old already (as of Wednesday). How did that happen?! We were just reflecting today on how quickly he is outgrowing the baby stage and entering toddler-hood. He is crawling at race speed, pulling himself up on all furniture as well as mommy's legs, and even taking steps across the room using his walker or any other movable object.

He has FIVE teeth now (his top two middle teeth plus the one to the right and his bottom two middle teeth) and has already given up on mashed up baby food. This boy wants the REAL deal, so whatever we are eating for dinner I feed him in little bites while he begs for more even with a mouthful of food. ("That's my boy!" says his proud daddy.)

I have a feeling he will keep me on my toes even more than his big brother after witnessing him turn himself around and stand up in the grocery store cart WHILE buckled in today. We've already had to hide the garbage cans and close the bathroom door, because, well, garbage cans are so much more fun to tip over and dump out...and toilets are great fun to splash around in, right? Seriously, the boy just NEVER.STOPS.MOVING.

He loves playing with his big brother and sister, which they are usually happy to oblige...unless he decides to chew on their in-progress puzzle, knock down their almost-finished block tower, or crawl away with one of their favorite toys in his mouth...all with a big grin on his face. So, the cries of "mommy, Ollie is causing trouble!" have already begun.

But, then, moments later, they are kissing his cheeks and whispering, "I just love you so much, Ollie!" Oh, my heart, how I love these three precious gifts. Happy eight months birth-iversary, Oliver Matthias. We love you to the moon and back.

The Mom Project

I never knew what it felt like to have my heart beating outside my own body until I held my firstborn in my arms and [then] wondered how I ever did life without her. Now, three kids later, I wonder what it was like to sleep through the night or take a quiet shower, but I wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world. These three are my hearts, my joy, my life – they are the gifts God has so graciously blessed me with. -Stephanie Hanes

A few weeks ago, I had the privilege of welcoming Elizabeth of Story Tree Photos into our home for the morning.  She has a heart for telling stories through photos and chose to tell our story as part of The Mom Project she is working on right now.  She spent the morning watching our daily life unfold through her camera lens and took the time to listen as I shared pieces of our story.  I felt like I was visiting with a lifelong friend as she both listened and shared pieces of her own story and her heart as a mom and a photographer.  It was such a priceless gift to have her tell our story (which you can see on her blog) - thank you so very much, Elizabeth!  I can't wait to print these photos in a photo book as a family heirloom we are sure to treasure for years to come. 

Seven Months Old

May 12, 2013

"Where's Ollie?" is a constant question in our house these days. He is seven (yes, SEVEN!) months old and still not slowing down one bit. His crawling skills are improving everyday and he is already pulling up on furniture and attempting to climb everything. He keeps us on our toes keeping him out of trouble and his silly smiles make it so hard to tell him no. He is babbling more and more too and just loves giggling and chattering away to his big sister and brother. He is just as excited as them when daddy gets home and competes with them for daddy's attention. He has his two bottom teeth and one poking through on top and loves to chew on everything in sight. He is not sure about baby food but he sure loves the little puffs we feed him. He is just the sweetest addition to our family and we sure do love our Ollie.

Until We Meet Again

*Ted's Grandma Mary went home to Jesus on Saturday, June 15.  We will miss her dearly, but we rejoice in the hope of heaven that was hers and is also ours, knowing that our goodbye here is temporary, until we meet again in glory.*

 Last weekend, we made an unexpected trip to visit our Michigan home.  Memorial Day weekend, it was discovered that Ted's Grandma Mary has a brain tumor that is rapidly growing and there is nothing more they can do.  She is in a hospice center where the sweet nurses are doing everything they can to make her as comfortable as possible on her last days.  We knew, without a doubt, that we needed to make the trip to see her one last time, not only for our own hearts, but to support and love on Ted's Grandpa Breen, who has already had to say goodbye to his first wife years ago.  These goodbyes never, ever get easier.

Friday morning, Ted rode his bike to work for a meeting he needed to attend.  The kids and I ran some errands and then picked him up mid-morning with the van already packed for a quick whirlwind trip.  We left around 10:30 and made it to his parent's house around 7:30, just in time for a late dinner and play time before bed.  The kids did so well on the drive there, kept occupied most of the time by their new favorite movie, Wreck It Ralph.  (Side note: you can BUY movies from Redbox for only $5! Also, we don't have a DVD player for the van, but my laptop works just as well.)  Oliver was happy as long as mommy was sitting next to him...and as long as we stopped enough for him to gulp down more of mommy's milk.

The kids were so happy to have lots of space to run and explore.  They always have so much fun with Uncle Joey and Uncle Robby.  Ted helped his dad fix up an old bike from the garage for Joey and for the rest of our visit Valerie and Almanzo had fun racing him on their bikes.  It was beautiful weather all weekend and, as always, it was good to spend time with family.  We don't get to see Ted's family often enough, so we enjoy the opportunity whenever it comes.

Saturday morning, Ted and I went to a funeral for the mom of one of his childhood friends.  She battled a brain tumor for the past few years and finally went home to be with the Lord last week.  I had only met her a few times, but the service was packed with friends and family.  We took Oliver with us while Mackenzie graciously watched the big kids back at the house.  I was hoping Ollie would sleep through it, but he decided it was more fun to make as much noise as possible.

I finally got up to walk out with him, but the doors were locked, so I stood by the door bouncing him and trying to keep him quiet.  I was grateful for the few people who came up to me afterwards and said the best part was when he giggled at the piano player.  Babies always bring such comfort in times of loss, because they are a reminder of the gift of life.  It really was a beautiful service too, filled with messages of hope and truth and stories of a woman who loved the Lord and knew without a doubt that heaven awaited her.

After lunch, Ted and I took all three kids plus Mackenzie to the hospice center to visit with Grandpa Breen and say goodbye to Grandma Mary.  I was surprised by how calm and peaceful it was there.  The building is hidden in a wooded area and the rooms are decorated to feel like home.  The nurses were so gentle and caring to both Grandpa and Grandma.  Grandpa was so happy to see us, but it was hard to tell if Grandma Mary recognized us.

She was barely responsive, but resting much more calmly than Ted's mom had told us she had been.  It brought back so many memories for me and it was hard to see her so sick.  She did blink her eyes a few times as if she knew what was going on, but was unable to communicate with us.  She began to get a little restless after a little while, so we decided to sing to her.  As we sang, there was such an unexpected peace filling the room, because we were reminded of the hope of heaven that awaits her.

A friend of Grandma Mary came to visit while we were there along with her husband.  He brought his guitar along and they joined us in singing several hymns that Grandma Mary loved.  It was so beautiful to be a part of that circle of love for a woman who has lived a rich and full life and has been such a blessing to us.  As we prepared to leave, we each took a turn giving her one last kiss and whispering our goodbyes.

I was surprised when Valerie asked to say goodbye, because the kids were so nervous about seeing her so sick.  I picked her up and held her while she kissed her forehead.  Then, she whispered "I love you, Grandma" and it near broke my heart.  Almanzo walked over after I set her down and placed his hand in mind, silently asking to say goodbye too.  I could barely see through the cloud of tears as I watched him follow his sister's example.  Our kids have seen too many sad goodbyes already in their short little lives, but they have also been blessed with so much love and such tender hearts.  As Ted said goodbye and I saw him fighting to stay strong and hold back tears, I knew, as hard as it was, we needed to be there and I'm so glad we made the trip.

After we left the hospice center, we followed Grandpa to McDonald's to visit a little more and give him a little break from it all.  They have both been such a blessing to me, as they have loved me as their own grandchildren and encouraged our little family through so many of our own hard times.  Their steadfast faith and unwavering commitment to follow Jesus is truly an inspiration.  We enjoy every single visit with them and our hearts break knowing this was our last visit with Grandma Mary here on earth.

Sunday morning, we went to church and Sunday school with Ted's family, ate lunch, and then packed up to head home.  The drive home was long and exhausting for all of us after an emotional weekend.  The kids were getting restless from spending so much time in the van, so we tried to stop as often as possible, including a longer stop for dinner, but that meant we didn't get home until 11:00 at night.  Needless to say, we started the week out rather run down.  The kids have been praying every night for Grandma Mary "to feel better while she's dying" and for Grandpa Breen "to not be so sad".  Our hearts are aching, but we are grateful that our goodbye was really "until we meet again". 

Six Months Old

April 12, 2013

Our Oliver is six months old and never stops moving. He is almost crawling, but can get anywhere he wants far too quickly by rolling, scooting, and turning with his arms. He can sit up, but won't sit still long enough to keep his balance. He is growing so fast too - already wearing 9 months and some 12 months clothing. He makes us laugh with his goofy smiles and silly babbling. He has TWO teeth and we suspect another is working on poking through right now. I keep telling him to slow down, but he just likes to "move it, move it".  He still keeps momma up at night, but goes back to sleep (on his belly now) as soon as he has a full belly of momma's milk, the only food this growing boy wants and needs. We are so blessed to call this sweet boy our Ollie.

Five Months Old

March 12, 2013

Happy 5 months to our Oliver! He is our squirmy, always-on-the-move, smiley littlest peanut. He adores his big sister and big brother, reserving his biggest smiles and giggles for them. He scoots all over the room on his back by kicking his legs and arching his back - it's the funniest thing to watch! (I'll have to catch it on video sometime!) He knows how to roll too, but he wants to SEE everything that is going on around him while he moves. When daddy gets home from work, he practically squeals with delight and giggles when daddy tickles and plays with him. He is still nursing like a champ and, as much as he loves daddy, sister, and brother, there's no one else quite like mommy. Daddy likes to say, "you not mom!" whenever you start to fuss while daddy is playing with you and the moment mommy picks you up, you are all smiles again. You melt our hearts with your cooing, giggles, and baby babble. We love watching you grow and learn new things every day. You are more than a blessing: you are an answer to prayer. We are so grateful God has chosen to gift us again with YOU.

{WORS 2013} Iola Bump & Jump

The 2013 WORS race season has officially begun (albeit two weeks late since winter decided to invade spring...)!  A constant bed time prayer at our house is for bike races, so the kids were just as excited as their daddy for bike races to begin. 

We loaded up the van Saturday and, by loaded, I really mean loaded.  Taking a family of five anywhere is always an adventure!   There were three bikes, a jogging stroller, helmets, bike accessories, coolers filled with food, water bottles a plenty, diapers, wipes, coloring books, baby toys, one big "picnic" blanket, sunglasses, sunblock, a baby carrier, changes of clothes, and, of course, a roll of toilet paper...because you never know when you might need one.

Sunday morning, we finished packing our lunches and ate a big breakfast of scrambled eggs, toast, fruit, and bacon (straight from the farmer's market - yum!).  The kids were so excited they asked pretty much every five seconds, "does the clock say it's time yet?".  When it was finally time to go, they practically leaped into the van and began singing a song about going to bike races.  To them, life is a musical and every adventure deserves a song.  It's just more fun that way!

The drive to the race was an hour and a half, so we left with plenty of time to get there so Ted could get ready, warm up, and line up for the start of the race.  About a half hour away, Oliver decided he was starving, so we made a quick stop at the "gas can" (aka: gas station according to Valerie-speak).  While I fed him, Ted took the big kids inside for a potty break, which seems insignificant unless you know how long and hard the road to potty training our 3 year old son has been.

We arrived at the bike race at the perfect timing to park right behind me sister who had just arrived with my niece to join us in cheering on our favorite racer.  We found a shady spot to set all our stuff and then made our way to the kids' race.  We were late for the official race, but they still got a chance to race each other around the kids' course and got a race medal to show off to daddy.  Almanzo, of course, proved just how much he is like daddy when he tried to forge his own path on the race course.  No tree or rock can stop him, because to be fast is what he likes!

After the kids' race, we made our way to the start of Ted's race, just in time to hear Don's countdown and watch them GOOOOOO!  It's always funny to watch how mesmerized the kids are at how fast they start their races.  It was hard to tear them away to go back to our spot along the race course! 

My sister and I spent the rest of the race keeping the babies from rolling down the hill and getting into the big kids' food - they sure keep us on our toes!  Valerie decided she did not like bugs and practically climbed on top of me every time she saw the tiniest little ant crawl on our blanket.  I had to explain to her that there will be bugs at bike races, because that's where they live.  Oh, that girl!  Almanzo, of course, is her knight in shining armor, squishing and removing every bug she squeals about.  Haha!

Ted finished 18th, which, contrary to what he might say, is a great start to race season and we were proud of his top 20 finish.  The kids were so excited to see him at the finish and show off their medals.  We made our way from the finish to the spaghetti feed for all the racers and the kids made sure to crowd around him so they could share his meal.  Our race day finished by watching Ted receive some WORS cash for finishing first in his age group and then packing up to head back home. 

All in all, it was a beautiful day and a great way to kick off the 2013 race season.  The kids have been asking every day this week when the next race is and we are excited for more adventures to come!