tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58979031810523720912024-03-05T20:09:34.409-08:00Lily GraceShe was in the womb 19 weeks, in our arms for hours, but will be in our hearts forever.Lily's mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845480396668081458noreply@blogger.comBlogger55125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5897903181052372091.post-78844454848396563542012-08-19T12:24:00.000-07:002012-08-19T12:24:16.437-07:00Ainsley's SurgeryWhat a mix of emotions the last couple of months have been! We have been mentally preparing ourselves for Ainsley's upcoming open heart surgery while at the same time trying really hard not to think about it. We tried to squeeze in as many summertime activities as possible as if we would never have another opportunity to do them all again. We stayed so busy that I was doing a fairly good job of not focusing on the what was to come...until we met with Ainley's surgeon. We requested this meeting to have the opportunity to ask some of the questions that we had without having to wait unti her pre-op meeting the day before her surgery. It was a good meeting with a lot of information to absorb. After a lengthy explanation about the procedure itself and all of the reasons why it is needed at this time, the Dr. went on to explain some of the associated risks. The surgery itself is generally very successful. In fact, there is 99% success rate. The surgeon had drawn a visual aid of the heart chambers and focused on the area of her heart that is in need of repair, and he used this same drawing to write out some of the potential risks such as a faulty electical system, which would require a permanent pacemaker, blood clotting or other blood related issues, brain damage and death....next to each one, he jotted down 1% or 2% indicating that there really is such a small chance that any of these could occur. He acted as if these statistics should make us feel more at ease about the surgery, but as I listened to him talk and I watched him scribble 1% next to each risk all over the picture meant to indicate my baby girl's heart, I kept thinking of Lily. There was only a 1% chance that we would have a baby diagnosed with Trisomy 18, and we were in that 1%. Just because 1% is a small number doesn't mean that it can't happen to us. Because of Lily, I can never live in complete ignorance to the possibilities. I know that I am not immune. We shared our experience with the surgeon that day. We knew that Lily's circumstance has nothing to do with Ainsley's condition, but he listened intently, looked into our eyes, then back down at the paper, and he noticed how many times he wrote 1% next to a devastating potential risk of a surgery that we chose him to perform on our baby, and he got it. That felt good. I know that the doctor doesn't have complete control over the potential risks of her surgery, but at least he knows who we are and where we've been. He empathized with us that day, and hopefully, on surgery day, he will acknowledge that our fears and worries may be a little more heightened than someone else's, but I don't think that any parent would feel overjoyed to face an open heart surgery on their baby, and I'm sure he is used to dealing with parents who are scared. I will continue to post updates on Ainsley's surgery and recovery on her caring bridge for anyone interested in following our journey. Lily's mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845480396668081458noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5897903181052372091.post-2068115956714339722012-07-02T20:59:00.002-07:002012-07-02T20:59:51.884-07:00Caring BridgeAs promised here is the link to Ainsley's caring bridge page.
http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/ainsleyholderLily's mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845480396668081458noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5897903181052372091.post-87203963615915906752012-07-01T19:53:00.002-07:002012-07-01T19:53:32.177-07:00Update on AinsleyI have one of my favorite bible verses posted at the top of this blog, and I think of it often when I think about our experience with Lily: <i>He heals the broken hearted and binds up their wounds.</i> I always thought about how this verse spoke directly to me, and I found comfort in those words because God has healed and continues to heal my hurting heart.
Until the last couple of weeks, though, I never thought about these words as literally as I do now. I've written about our youngest daughter, Ainsley's, heart condition, and I last gave an update 6 months ago in December. We were so relieved after her last appointment with her cardiologist when the hole in her heart was closing and was posing no imminent risk to our baby girl. We rested comfortably knowing that surgery was not in our baby girl's future. I recently took Ainsley back to her cardiologist for a 6 month follow up assuming that the good news would continue and that I would be able to say goodbye to her cardiologist forever, but her appointment did not go that way. I heard the words "unfortunately" (which is never a good thing coming from a doctor), "leak", "further testing", and "open heart surgery". I left that office with my baby girl in my arms feeling defeated.
As I was walking out of the office, I let myself go to a place in my mind that I wish I didn't...I felt a pang of deja-vu. Two years ago, I received the lowest blow, the worst news ever in a doctor's office located just a block away on the same street where I was at this moment. I can't drive by that office or even be in the town of Annapolis without thinking about that. That day, I walked down the hallway of the medical complex and thought "here we go again". What is it about this town and these appointments? Haven't I been through enough? Why am I being punished like this? Why is my baby being punished? Why does my innocent baby have to go through this? I don't know if I can handle this. How will I ever be able to get through this? How will I be strong enough to help my daughter get through this? These thoughts resonated in my mind for a couple of minutes before I managed to pull myself together.
Through everything that I went through after Lily's death, I never once questioned God's will for me and my family. I never questioned His purpose, His plan, or His faithfulness. I never asked "why me?" because I knew that God's plan for me and my baby was perfect. I confess that the thoughts that I had as I left this appointment with Ainsley are thoughts that I never wish to have again. Just writing them makes me cringe because I know that in those moments I questioned God's will for me and for my daughter. For those couple of minutes, I challenged Him, and I felt bitter and angry. Although, I was able to slip back to a place of reason and faith, I got a little glimpse of the other side. I felt what it is like to lose faith, and it was not pretty, not even for a minute.
As I drove home that day with my baby in the backseat completely unaware of her fate, I remembered the verse: <i>He heals the broken hearted and binds up their wounds.</i> And, just like that, I felt peace. She will be okay. I will be okay. Our family will get through this. It was not in our plan, or our desire, but it will serve a purpose, and I will try my best to glorify God as His purpose for me gets clearer and clearer. Our baby may have a broken heart, but thankfully, I know the One who can heal her, and I have faith that He will.
If you are interested in reading more detail about Ainsley's heart condition or following our journey, I am in the process of creating a Caring Bridge page for her. I will post the link to her page once I publish it. In the meantime, we would greatly appreciate prayer for our baby girl and our family during this time.Lily's mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845480396668081458noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5897903181052372091.post-28002817486728172222012-06-07T20:21:00.001-07:002012-06-07T20:21:14.081-07:002 years<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfonZxWWWVblD1LY7UZPWCfuNNiRv1ciW60F9HjES5ixc7cZdDhkCNGCfz8a2D-it7FDCpdwvtUL91nr7x003MXWhMUTs1j3fbohfYNNh089pXhY4NRN4J_st_iJiYcq8pJC9Dea03Zec/s1600/last+day+of+school+015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfonZxWWWVblD1LY7UZPWCfuNNiRv1ciW60F9HjES5ixc7cZdDhkCNGCfz8a2D-it7FDCpdwvtUL91nr7x003MXWhMUTs1j3fbohfYNNh089pXhY4NRN4J_st_iJiYcq8pJC9Dea03Zec/s400/last+day+of+school+015.JPG" /></a>
We celebrated Lily for the 2nd year yesterday. Naturally, I thought about her and lots of the what ifs throughout the day, but my overriding feeling was love and gratitude for my child. We invited the same intimate group of family over to send balloons to heaven and to enjoy "birthday cake". Last year, this was the best way we could explain to our 2 year old son what we were doing. We told him it was Lily's birthday party. I anticipated having to elaborate on this as the years went on, but it wasn't necessary this year as he vividly remembered the celebration from last year. He wanted to make sure that there would be cake, and that he could have a green balloon just like last year. He was emphatic that everyone else would have pink and he would have green. He stated that next year, he will send her a blue one, but this year, it must be green. He asked me if she would get a birthday card in heaven. I explained that just like last year, we could write her a message or draw her a picture on our balloons and those would be like cards for her. He was satisfied with that, and initially said that he would like his balloon to say "Happy Birthday", but when the time came, he chose to draw on it and leave it at that. Some may think that it is strange that we choose to celebrate her in this way each year because we never experienced life with her. We never laid our eyes on her while she was living. We don't choose to do this out of grief for our loss. We choose to do this to remember that she was alive. I could never discount the life that she had, regardless of how brief it was. She was a blessing from God. She was a part of me.
There is a portion of the evening that has an awkward feel to it, though, as we all know why we are gathered together, but we don't really talk a lot about it. There isn't much to say. Our family's presence says it all to us. So, instead, we watch our children play. We watch the lives before us while we remember the one who is missing from it all. We independently focused on our own balloons and we watched the children among us embrace this new tradition without questioning it.
For the 2nd year, I had my own moment of discomfort (although, I'm not really sure that is the best word to describe it) when I knew that everyone was done writing their message or drawing their pictures, and it was nearing the time to let our balloons go, and I just wasn't ready to let go. I enjoyed watching the kids run around with their balloons in their hand, tied to their wrists, or attached to the steering wheel of the motorized vehicle they were riding in, and I wanted to imprint those images in my memory because during those moments, Lily's memory was present. The evening was for her and about her, and while each person held on to the string of their balloons, we all thought about her. I wanted to make it last. When it was time to let our balloons soar, we gathered together and with few words spoken, we released the 1 green and 12 pink balloons and watched them inch their way to the clouds. With my camera ready, I snapped pictures of our balloons in the sky because it really is a beautiful sight and that is the image that I want to have to remember Lily's 2nd birthday celebration.
This year has brought some changes. Owen referred to his baby sister as "Illy" last year, but sometime over the last 12 months, he has improved his ability to pronounce his L's, and he is now calling her "Lily". That was a little bit sad for me to be honest. I loved hearing him say "Illy". Another change this year is that Lily's baby sister, Ainsley, was born so she enjoyed the festivities for the first time. Lily's cousin, Quinn, is always fun for me to be around because he is an every-present reminder to me of Lily. Lily would be exactly the same age, and doing many of the same things. This time last year, Quinn wasn't yet walking. He had just started sitting up, and I remember propping him up in the wagon for a ride. This year, he was walking, running, and riding along with the big kids. What a difference a year makes!
Tonight, as I reflected on the events of last night, I saw a beautiful rainbow in the sky. I have talked before about the significance of rainbows as they relate to our youngest child, Ainsley. She is my "rainbow baby", my peace and hope after the devastation and the storm. I felt grateful for this obvious reminder of God's faithfulness, and it couldn't have come at a more fitting time. God's timing is perfect; He's been with me every step of the way, and has never left my side.Lily's mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845480396668081458noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5897903181052372091.post-39734280066817420402012-05-24T18:06:00.000-07:002012-05-25T11:31:05.439-07:00Memorial Day MemoriesSo, the hardest part about waiting so long between posts is not knowing where to start. This week marks the 2nd anniversary of that life changing sonogram and diagnosis. This anniversary certainly stirs up all of those feelings of grief that really have never gone away, but were residing quietly in my memory and in my heart. I can so clearly remember the denial and shock that I felt those days leading up to Memorial Day weekend 2 years ago as the unbelievable medical facts and statistics were thrown at me. Looking back on that time, I can vividly remember my tears all the way home from the first sonogram, during which we didn't really learn anything, but I had a suspicion that things were not as they should have been. I remember avoiding the texts and calls from my family who were excitedly waiting to hear if we were team pink or team blue. I remember waiting for the phone to ring to hear some confirmation that things really were just fine, that our sonogram tech was just having an off day and overreacted. I remember the uncontrollable sobs that shook me to my core and scared my then less than 2 year old son when that call finally came. I remember him looking at me with such confusion and fear. I remember the drive to Annapolis less than 24 hours later. We got pulled over for speeding, and the officer made some joke about the beach being in the opposite direction implying that we were going the wrong way. My husband told him that we were headed to a doctor's appointment, and when the officer looked over to see my swollen belly with a tissue box in my lap, and a sea of wet tissues covering the floor of the car, he looked at us with pity and graciously let us go with a warning. How I wish we were headed to the beach that day to enjoy some fun in the sun without a care in the world. I remember preparing myself to hear that our baby girl had Down Syndrome, as if that would be the worst news ever. I remember meeting with the genetic specialist who had on a pretty necklace and was so calm and nice. I very clearly remember seeing the framed pictures of her two beautiful children on her desk, wondering what my two children would look like posed next to each other for a picture since my daughter might have Down Syndrome. I still didn't get it. My two children would never meet. I remember using the last tissue from her box to soak up my neverending tears. I felt like the walls of the room were closing in on me as I looked at charts of chromosomes that took me back to high school biology. I remember wondering if maybe this was all a mistake. Maybe they got me mixed up with someone else. When I was growing up, there was another child who shared my same first and last name and even the same middle initial. My mother told me that our medical information had gotten mixed up once as we both had the same pediatrician. I think one of us even got the wrong immunization one time as a result of the mix up. Maybe the same thing was happening here. Maybe there was another Wendy in the waiting room carrying a baby who seemed likely to have Trisomy 13 or 18 because my baby was supposed to have Down Syndrome, which at least was compatible with life. I was in such denial about the reality of our situation that I thought we would still be leaving the next day for a weekend family getaway full of laughs and happy memories. I think amid my shock, I even asked the genetic specialist if we could still go, like she was my mom and I needed permission. She was so sweet. She didn't look at me like I had lost my mind, which clearly, she could have. She gently reminded me of some of the reasons why that may not be a good idea as I was expected to have severe cramping and discomfort from the amnio and was instructed to not do a lot of walking. The other obvious reason to not go was that we were planning to go to Sesame Place, which naturally, would have been filled with beautiful happy children, babies, and possibly, pregnant women. That would have been like torturing myself. Needless to say, we postponed our trip. I spent the weekend flooding myself with information, reading websites and blogs, emailing other Trisomy moms, crying more than I have ever cried, and waiting....
It's kind of crazy how vivid these memories and feelings still are 2 years later. Last year we planted Lily's memorial garden over the Memorial Day weekend. It's neat to see how her garden has grown and evolved over the last year. Some things have grown so much that I want to move a couple of things around and divide some plants that have really taken off. I'll probably spend some time doing that this weekend in preparation for her "birthday party". Last year, we celebrated Lily by hosting a balloon release and having birthday cake outside by her garden on June 6, the one year anniversary. It was a very touching evening for us. This is something we plan on doing each year. All three of our children have been born within 1 month of each other, so we are planning to spend some time this weekend preparing to celebrate each of them on their birthdays. Lily's birthday kicks off the summer birthday celebrations- we will celebrate her for the second year on June 6, our youngest, Ainsley, for the first year on June 18, and their older brother, Owen, for the fourth year on July 3. Just like most mothers, as we celebrate, I will be reminded of each of their birth stories as well as the precious time spent with each of them in my womb leading up to the first time I laid my eyes on them and held them in my arms, on the days of their births.Lily's mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845480396668081458noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5897903181052372091.post-89096519477287395962012-04-26T11:24:00.000-07:002012-04-26T11:24:06.600-07:00Out of hibernationI can't believe how much time has slipped away from me since I last posted. Let's see...I think I left off during a time of fasting, and I know I had all intentions of updating you all. I am ashamed to say that I failed to fulfill my promise of an update. As it turns out, our family situation that I was so vague about in one of my last posts has been completely changed, for the better. I firmly believe that once I completely let go of that situation and turned it over to the One who has the ability to change things, a transformation occurred. It never fails, yet I always have to remind myself to let go of the things I cannot control.
On a more recent note, I think about this blog all the time. I think about the things I would love to write about, and the things that I don't really know how to write about. I also think about the things that I've been meaning to write about and pictures I want to post if only I had endless time to do so.
I am working on figuring out a way to get back into this. I've been telling myself to write for some time now, and was encouraged to get back to it by my husband also. He must know how helpful it was to me in the past. So many events have transpired lately that I need to process and acknowledge. My next few posts may seem somewhat disjointed and fragmented, but I think that is fairly representative of my thought process right now, so bear with me.Lily's mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845480396668081458noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5897903181052372091.post-42999797856293621812012-04-05T08:06:00.002-07:002012-04-05T08:12:13.684-07:00Re-post from Small Bird Studios! Please read this!!I borrowed this from another Mommy's blog that I follow. These words are so true. I can relate to so much of what is written here, as I'm sure that many other parents who have lost a baby can too. I just had to share this.<br /><br />When you lose a baby...<br /><br />You don’t know what to expect.<br /><br />People surround you. For a couple of weeks. Making sure you are not going to kill yourself, refuse to get out of bed, or start rocking a baby doll like the crazy lady they heard about from a friend.<br /><br />You get lots of sympathy cards, clearly written and designed to be sent to console a daughter losing her father. Not the other way around.<br /><br />You get free baby formula in the mail. For months and months and months.<br /><br />And free baby magazines. And free baby coupons.<br /><br />You secretly envy every pregnant woman. But not without a tinge of guilt, because you know all too well that she might be one in four- expecting her rainbow child.<br /><br />It seems like the whole world is expecting a baby.<br /><br />You have baby stuff around your home. Because you never imagined you wouldn’t need it.<br />You feel jarred. In the grocery store. At a birthday party. At the dinner table. At Christmas. Driving.<br /><br />The baby you never knew, but lost changes every part of your life. Every. single. part.<br />Forever.<br /><br />You see baby clothes and it brings tears to your eyes.<br /><br />You get sick and tired of crying. You never knew it was possible to cry this much.<br /><br />You find yourself angry at God. Angry at yourself. Just angry.<br /><br />You swear you can feel them kick but they’re gone. They call them phantom kicks. I call them painful, all kinds of painful. But sweet too.<br /><br />You know, or you have a strong feeling of knowing what your child would have looked like, and been like. You see a child in the store, or on the street. Their hair color, dimples, smile, their personality and suddenly you are reminded of your child. You miss your child even more, if that’s even possible.<br /><br />Your Babies R’ Us Registry is still active. There is no delete button on their site. The babies r’ us people don’t make a dime on people like us. Why bother right? You have to call them, plead with them to remove your freaking’ registry, because there will be no baby shower. There is an awkward silence. There is sadness. There will be no baby.<br /><br />You get hospital bills about 3-4 months after you buried your child. You have to pay for the baby you delivered but didn’t bring home.<br /><br />You find that moment of happiness in life for the first time, but the guilt swallows it up almost immediately.<br /><br />You remember the size of the casket. The size of the plot. The face of the funeral director. The expression of those that attended the funeral. The feeling of raw pain, like your chest has literally been ripped open.<br /><br />Somehow you convince yourself that you deserve happiness. Because you really do. But in the happiest, purest moment, there is still that hole that only they were meant to fill.<br /><br />People compare your pain to their own pain. The loss of their grandmother, husband, their failed marriage, rebellious teenagers. Somehow this comparing leaves you stranded. If they can compare their pain of a situation to the loss of your BABY, they will likely never get it. Babies are not supposed to die. End of story.<br /><br />You lost a dream. And it almost feels like you imagined their entire existence up. Their name becomes a distant memory on the lips of others.<br /><br />There is awkwardness when you talk about your child in a crowd. No one knows whether to cry, walk away or pretend you never brought him or her up.<br /><br />You lose friends. You find new ones.<br /><br />You can’t believe that women have actually survived this and you never knew about it. Not really, anyway.<br /><br />You would do anything for another minute with your child.<br /><br />You cry when others bring up your child, not so much because it hurts but more so because it such a precious and rare gift.<br /><br />You long for the rewind button, even after many many instances of acceptance.<br /><br />You want to know what went wrong, and why…<br /><br />You find a new appreciation for moments in life that make you laugh… you laugh harder and love stronger.<br /><br />You know that you can die bitter, or die thankful. There is no in between.<br /><br />You never ever, EVER get over your child. The one you hoped for, prayed for, carried and loved for the weeks and months they were with you.<br /><br />You learn to live with the pain.<br /><br />You are better for having known them at all.Lily's mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845480396668081458noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5897903181052372091.post-99080641144041392012-01-18T11:25:00.001-08:002012-01-18T18:27:54.807-08:0021 Day Fast Update<em>Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is- his good, pleasing and perfect will. </em>Romans 12:2<br /><br />It's been nearly two weeks since I made the decision to be more aware of my thought patterns and to spend more time with God whenever I have the instinct to think something that coud have a negative impact on my feelings or my family and their feelings. In my last blog post, I referenced a situation that my family is facing right now that could be perceived as a negative life event, but I have chosen to think of it in a different way during this fasting period, and hopefully even after that.<br /><br />Let's just say I've been spending much more time praying than I was in the past, and I can verify that there really is so much power in prayer! Typically, my prayer time occurs in the car as it is one of the few places that I spend time completely alone. Sometimes I pray in the shower or just before going to sleep at night, but I'd really like to dedicate time each day that is specifically for God. If I'm praying while I'm driving or bathing, I am sharing my time with God with other tasks. Like many other women, I multi-task everyday to accomplish all that needs to get done, but God deserves much more than half of my attention and focus, doesn't He? Over the last 11 days, I have prayed at times and in places when I might not normally, and it has been rejuvenating for me.<br /><br />While I think I'm on the right track, I haven't reached my final destination just yet. I am a work in progress and I'm trying to stay focused on fulfilling God's purpose and His will for me. This fast couldn't have come at a better time. I'm looking forward to the final 10 days of this fast, and all of the time that I will spend strengthening my relationships with God, my husband and my children.Lily's mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845480396668081458noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5897903181052372091.post-76569069093167132762012-01-09T06:48:00.000-08:002012-01-17T06:30:28.511-08:00New Year, New Me?<div>It seems like it's been a while since I've really written out what's on my mind. The month of December was so hectic, as I know it is for countless others. It really has been a bittersweet time for us. We've received some awesome news this month as well as some awful news. We had a week just before Christmas that was such a roller coaster of emotions.</div><br /><div>We attended the STAR program's memorial service for a second year. It was so nice to dedicate that time to remembering our angel. I met a fellow STAR parent who has chosen to make a quilt for all of the STAR babies. I was excited to be able to share the five quilt squares that were designed by my family members in memory of Lily for her to add to the quilt. I will post some pictures of our squares soon. They are amazing!</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Prior to this service, we had been going through the motions of the typical Christmas preparation and activities. We were decorating the house, shopping, wrapping, seeing Santa, checking out the Christmas lights, going to Christmas parades, getting involved with the Christmas drama at our church, and planning a little Christmas party at our house. We were excited to experience our first Christmas with Ainsley, who is now 6 months old. Our son, Owen, who is 3, was so much fun this year. He embraced the holidays wholeheartedly, and it was such a joy to watch. It was a little difficult to balance my feelings this year as I was so happy to see my two little ones experience the magic of the season, all the while wishing that Lily could be part of the fun too. This would have been her second Christmas. However, the memorial service was a great way to block off a special period of time to celebrate and remember her. I look forward to the year that we choose to take Owen and Ainsley to this service to remember her as a family. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>The morning after the memorial service, as I was still a little emotionally drained from the night before, we received some bad news that has negatively impacted our family. We are still digesting this news and learning how to cope with it. Obviously, it is never a good time to receive bad news, but two weeks before Christmas really put a damper on my holiday spirit this year. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Later that same week, we took our 6 month old, Ainsley, to the cardiologist for a follow up appointment to check on the status of the hole in her heart. We are beyond excited to report that the hole is closing!!! While it is still slightly visible, it is significantly smaller, and is now the size of a pin hole. We were told that surgery is definitely not indicated given this progress!! I couldn't have asked for better news at a better time. Just weeks before Christmas, I finally felt at peace about this issue that has been seemingly unresolved for the last 6 months. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Upon learning about her condition in June, I naturally worried about my daughter's health, and the effects that her condition could have on her teeny little body. I recognized after her last appointment that I could not control this issue and that in order for me to be the best mommy I could be for her, I needed to turn it completely over to God. After all, He is the ultimate healer, not me. I wish that this had been my initial reaction, rather going through four months of worry, stress, and anxiety because as soon as I made this very conscious decision, a peace came over me, much like the peace that I feel when I think about Lily and the fact that I know she is okay. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Given all that is going on in our lives right now, I felt like this was one issue that I could safely check off of our list of things to worry about. So, that takes me back to our newest source of stress....I've been talking a lot to my sister, Tracy, about this issue and the wide range of feelings that I am experiencing. After much venting on my part, and attempts to boost me up on her part, she finally suggested that I pray about it. Such simple advice really. Any of you who read this blog recognize that I am a Christian and that my faith is very important to me, so why didn't I think of this?! I know how much I have relied on God throughout my journey with Lily, and I realize that He is the One who has been my constant source of support and encouragement. It is only because of Him that I was not a complete wreck every single day for the months immediately following Lily's death. He allowed me to think more positively and to be hopeful during those times when I could have felt hopeless. I realized recently how much He has helped me to get through the waiting time that was so necessary for Ainsley's little heart to heal itself. It is abundantly clear to me that He is always faithful. So, while Tracy's advice may seem quite simple, as soon as she suggested that, I was speechless. Of course, prayer is the answer! Why do I feel the need to solve this issue, or to analyze a situation that I don't have any control over? For me, it's not even so much about the bad news that we received as it is about the way that I am thinking about it and responding to it. Then I realized, why am I wasting my time with negative thoughts or negative energy? I am here to fulfill God's purpose, and the way that I was responding to my situtation was certainly not something that I think He would be proud of. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I posted some of my thoughts about New Year's resolutions last year, and the fact that you don't need to wait until a new year to make a change. Every day is a new opportunity to make changes and improvements. It just so happens, though, that the new year coincided with my immediate need for change and a new perspective. So, I am, in a sense, taking back the words that I posted just one year ago, and making a New Year's Resolution. It's a big one.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>My church just started a 21 day fast yesterday, and after much thought and prayer, I have decided to fast negative thinking. I haven't shared this with anyone, and now that I've put it out there, I know I must hold myself accountable. I wouldn't necessariy describe myself as a negative person overall, but I have tendencies to focus on the potential problems given a less than ideal circumstance, and it just so happens that we have had a few of those over the last couple of years. Given our current situation (which I realize I've been extremely vague about), it will be a challenge for me to remain optimistic, but I believe that God doesn't want for me to focus on the obstacles or the challenges. If I rely on Him, all of my needs will be met. I am reminded of a restaurant manager that I worked for when I was in college waitressing at a crab house in Ocean City. Anytime someone went to him with a problem, he would respond "there are no problems, only opportunities". Fifteen years later, I am still reminding myself of this. I am making a decision to focus exclusively on the potential opportunities. I will be praying diligently for patience and the ability to control my thoughts. This is a skill that I teach others to do everyday, so it's time I practice what I preach, so to speak. Stay tuned for updates on my progress. I have a feeling this could be incredibly eye opening and life changing for me. </div>Lily's mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845480396668081458noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5897903181052372091.post-46926596314250666372011-12-25T19:54:00.000-08:002011-12-25T20:08:08.055-08:00Merry Christmas!Merry Christmas my sweet baby girl!! This was the second year that you celebrated Christmas with Jesus. I missed you tremendously and wished that you could have been here with me and Daddy and your brother and sister. The joy on their faces was magical as they both took in the wonder of Christmas day. I can only imagine the experience that you have every day to celebrate not only Jesus' birth, but also His everlasting life. What a gift! <br />Speaking of gifts, we have added four new ornaments to our tree just for you! You are such a huge part of my heart, and it just isn't Christmas to me without thinking of you. I love having these reminders of you on our Christmas tree. I often gaze at our tree and admire all of our oraments as each one seems to have some significace or special meaning, especially yours. A couple of donations were made for you this Christmas to the Trisomy Foundation, which brings me such joy! While you are on my mind and in my heart every day, you have other family and friends who love you too. <br />I'm thinking of you always, and remembering you a lot today. I love you Lily!Lily's mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845480396668081458noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5897903181052372091.post-2185187152184204122011-11-28T10:27:00.001-08:002011-12-05T07:33:53.723-08:00ThanksgivingThis week marked the transition from Thanksgiving to Christmas, and I was surprisingly hit with feelings of grief while we celebrated such happy occassions. Of course, I continue to think about Lily consistently, probably still on a daily basis to some degree, but this past week, she was ever-present in my thoughts, and it finally all hit me Wednesday night, the night before Thanksgiving.<br /><br />We started pulling out our Christmas decorations, and we were optimistically trying to have our Christmas tree up and decorated by the time we left for Thanksgiving dinner Thursday afternoon. We were ahead of schedule, as the process of putting up the tree and untangling the lights went much smoother than in years past. I always enjoy putting the ornaments on the tree as I have so many that are special to me. Not only is Christmas a time when feelings of grief may be stirred up naturally, but since Lily died in June, December is a 6 month mark, which feels noteworthy to me. This will be our 2nd Christmas without her, and it will mark the one and a half year mark since we last saw her. We have accumulated a handful of Christmas ornaments dedicated to Lily, and I cherish each one of them.<br /><br />Our hospital's STAR program has given us two glass star ornaments. We received one of them before we left the hospital following Lily's delivery in June, and the other one was given to us at the Christmas memorial service last year. A friend of ours made an ornament for Lily last year that we were able to use in our family Christams pictures last year to remember her. I smiled immediately when I saw that one, and my heart was full of gratitude and appreciation for the thought that went into that. My mom gave us an "Always Remembered" Hallmark ornament last year. My family loves Hallmark ornaments, and each member of the family receives a special ornament from my mom every year. I love that Lily could be included in that tradition. Finally, the funeral home that we used for Lily's cremation offered ornaments to the families who had lost a loved one within that year. It is a dove with a banner that reads "Lily Grace".<br /><br />I strategically placed the Hallmark ornament and the two star ornaments near the top of the tree to reduce the risk of my son taking them off or breaking them. Since the handmade ornament is not breakable, it was given prime real estate, in the front and center of our tree. When I got to the dove from the funeral home, I hesitated. As I placed it closer to the top on the side of the tree, I couldn't help but think that never in a million years did I think that I would be putting an ornament from a funeral home on my Christmas tree. Ugh- did I really want to include this on our tree? I took it back off, and considered it again. Do I really want this reminder? Of a funeral home? At the risk of sounding snooty, it looks kind of cheap and like something you might imagine would come from a funeral home. Although I never would have imagined ornaments coming from funeral homes in the first place, but you get my point. It's a little weird. I decided that I did want to include it after all, and while it may seem strange to have this on our tree, it is what it is. This has been our journey, and this is our life. Funeral home and all.<br /><br />While the tree decorating was in full swing Wednesday night, I kept checking my computer for news from friends of ours who are expecting their first baby, and we couldn't be happier for them!! She has been eagerly waiting for her sonogram appointment to learn the gender of their new bundle of joy, and I was anxious to hear their news. I have been really excited for her, and I don't know if I realized it, but I guess I had been a little anxious, and maybe even worried for them. <br /><br />I remember being so excited to find out if Lily was the little girl that we were praying for, but I never really wondered if she would be healthy. I just assumed she was. I feared for this couple who so obviously want this child. I hate that fear comes to my mind at times like this. I wish I could just be excited and positive, but it was this same 18 week sonogram appointment for us that forever changed our world, and anytime I know of someone going to a similar appointment, I try my best to act like I'm excited about their baby's gender, but really, I'm more excited to hear that their baby is healthy. I often wonder how another couple would deal with a tragedy if they were faced with the same situation we were. I know first-hand how devastating it is to go through, and I certainly don't wish that on anyone, especially people we know and care about. It's just something I often consider. I had been praying for my friend from the time I found out about her pregnancy. I realized just how anxious I was for her when I caught myself checking my computer for about the third time. What is my problem??! Between staring at Lily's ornaments and rearranging them on my tree, and checking my friend's facebook status, I was driving myself crazy. After moving the cheap looking funeral home dove for the third time, there was finally a new post... They were expecting a "HEALTHY baby GIRL"!!! <br /><br />I couldn't be happier for them!! But, then, why do I feel like I'm about to cry...My husband noticed my emotion, and for the first time in a long time, we talked about Lily with each other. It was the way she capitalized those two words in her status update that hit me the hardest. <br /><br />It was good to talk about her out loud. I think about her a lot, and continue to write about her (although not everything I write makes it to the blog), but we don't often talk about her. The holidays are always a special time for our family, and may always bring up these feelings as I wish that she were here to celebrate with us. <br /><br />Overall, it turned out to be a very productive evening. The tree got done. We shared our friend's joy, via facebook. Most importantly, we remembered our daughter. What a great way to celebrate the night before Thanksgiving!Lily's mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845480396668081458noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5897903181052372091.post-77682056813816931702011-10-28T11:58:00.000-07:002011-10-28T12:47:36.599-07:00What if?? (and baby Quinn turns 1!)This date, October 28, holds very special meaning to me as this date last year was Lily's due date. Without realizing the meaning of this date, I found myself thinking a lot about her this afternoon. Periodically, I'll catch myself playing the "what if" game. You know, what if she had been a full term baby?, what if she had been born alive?, what if we could have held her for even a few moments while she was still alive?, what if she had lived hours or even days?, what if she could have survived long enough to leave the hospital to experiene some of her life at home?....Then, I'll stop those thoughts by reminding myself of the very harsh statistics about Trisomy 18 and alobar holoprosencephaly.<br /><br /><br />We know that 50% of Trisomy 18 babies who make it full term are still born. Of these 50%, just over 90%die during their first year of life. If only this was Lily's only hurdle. We also know that most babies diagnosed with alobar holoprosencephaly are still born. It is this diagnosis that would have limited her significantly. With such a severe brain defect, she would not have had the ability to walk or talk. She may not have been able to eat, and could have easily required a feeding tube. While this should put an abrupt halt to my what if thinking, I still find myself wondering.<br /><br />You may remember that Lily has a cousin, Quinn, who shared her exact same due date. He was born just a few days late, and is now approaching his first birthday. I think my family was concerned about how I would handle Quinn's birth after having to say goodbye to Lily. Admittedly, I was concerned about how I would handle his arrival too and truthfully, I wondered how difficult it would be to see him through his infancy. I worried that seeing him grow, develop, and learn new things would remind me of all of the experiences that our Lily would never have. However, I have noticed the exact opposite. He may never know how much I enjoy seeing him and watching him grow and change, and while that is mostly due to his uniqueness, I admit that it is also because he is a reminder to me of my baby girl. It is because he is going through the ages and stages exactly as she would have during the same months and seasons. I realize that it may not be fair for me to compare Quinn to Lily as he is obviously special on his own. It's just that if he wasn't here, Lily may be easier for others to forget about since she is no longer with us. Quinn is now learning to walk. He is getting to the point where I can't really compare my what ifs to him anymore because I know for sure that Lily would have never been able to walk. I'm not even sure if she would have been able to sit up. <br /><br />While I succeeded in making it through the first year after Lily's death, I was also anticipating emotionally getting through Quinn's first birthday. As I was shopping for his birthday gift and looking at the toys that were the most age appropriate for him, I considered that if all of my what ifs came true, Lily probably still would not have been able to play with any of these toys as she would not have had the physical or cognitive ability. <br /><br />I try to make an effort to change any negative thoughts into more positive ones, so instead of rambling on about all of the scenarios that are just not applicable or realistic, I'll end this post by wondering what if Lily knew how much I think about her and miss her. Now I think that is a what if that I can be positive about!Lily's mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845480396668081458noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5897903181052372091.post-72407796858792169152011-09-12T19:17:00.000-07:002011-10-10T20:03:14.434-07:00Bless her heartAinsley had her follow up appointment with the pediatric cardiologist on Friday, and while we were hoping for news that the hole in her heart was smaller or even closed, we are trying to stay positive after learning that things have not changed at all. I suppose it is good news that the hole has not gotten larger or that there haven't been any further complications. Just when I catch myself feeling frustrated with all of the doctor's appointments or feeling sorry for our daughter having to endure the appointments, EKGs and the echocardiograms, I remind myself yet again that we are incredibly blessed to have her in our lives. I remind myself too that she, hopefully, will have no recollection of any of these appointments. She is just so little and so young to have this mountain to climb.<br /><br />I mentioned a bible verse a couple of posts ago, and talked about my brother-in-law who used to sing "Never Let Go" in our church. My husband and I have been attending a different church for the last 2 years, and until recently, I don't remember ever singing this song there, but we have now for the last two Sundays. What an awesome reminder to me the week leading up to Ainsley's appointment that God never lets go of us, and another great reminder following he appointment that He is there through every high and every low, through the calm and through the storm. Even when the news we received was not what we wanted it to be, we know that she will be okay because God will never let go. <br /> <br />As I was taking my 3 year old to pre-k this morning, he started talking about heaven, completely out of the blue. Not even three minutes before he was asking if we could go for a bike ride and play baseball after he got home. Next thing I know I'm in the middle of a very interesting three year old train of thought:<br /><br />Owen: "Mom, how will I get to heaven?"<br />Me: "When Jesus decides it is time for you to go to heaven, He will come get you"<br />Owen: "When?"<br />Me: "Jesus will decide when"<br />Owen: "Right now?"<br />Me: "No honey, not right now." <br />Owen: "What about Daddy?"<br />Me: "What do you mean what about Daddy?"<br />Owen: "Will he come too?"<br />Me: "When it is time for Daddy to go to heaven, he will go too"<br />Owen: "And you and Ainsley?"<br />Me: "Uh Huh" <br />Owen: "Is Mocha (our dog) in heaven?"<br />Me: "No honey, you just let her in before we left, remember? She's at home."<br />Owen: "Oh. What about that frog? Jesus came and got it and took it to heaven?"<br />Me: "Yes"<br />Owen: "If you and me and Daddy go to heaven, who will hold Ainsley?"<br />Before I could answer-<br />Owen: "And mom, I think Ainsley is too little"<br />Me: "Too little for what?"<br />Owen: "Too little to go with Jesus. So Daddy and I will go to heaven and you stay at home with Ainsely, k mom?"<br /><br />He almost said that like he was excited about it or looking forward to that day, and I guess I am glad that he sees it as a positive thing. I realize that I could have used this conversation with him in so many other, possibly better ways. I could have talked more to him about Lily, his baby sister or our cat who passed away a couple of weeks ago, but I really wanted to let him take the lead on this one, and quite honestly, I didn't want to draw out the conversation any longer than necessary as we were just a few minutes away from his school and I hated to leave him on this topic. It was interesting for me to hear my son acknowledge in his own way, though, that Ainsley has her whole life ahead of her. <br /><br />I am so excited to parent her through every stage and every mountain. We will continue to pray for the hole in her heart to close, but we know that God's plan and His timing are perfect. Ever since we said goodbye to Lily, I try very hard to open my mind and my heart to learn whatever it is that God wants me to. I ask Him regularly to show me His will and to give me the patience I need to see it. I know there is a reason that He has chosen to use our Ainsley's heart in this way. While we pray for healing, we will wait as patiently as possible for her next appointment in December, and my son, who has been singing "Never Let Go" with his Lightning McQueen guitar and microphone has been keeping my thoughts in check and my hopes high.Lily's mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845480396668081458noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5897903181052372091.post-77114251382198308562011-08-16T20:01:00.000-07:002011-08-27T18:03:20.944-07:00My Rainbow BabyAlthough I haven't written a post for the last several weeks, Lily's blog has been heavy on my heart. If you've been following my blog, you know that our second daughter, Ainsley, officially joined our family eight weeks ago. I think I was still in the hospital following her delivery when my husband asked me if I was planning to continue this blog. As I have said numerous times, Ainsely does not replace Lily and her being here should not interfere with me writing, so of course I am going to keep the blog going!... but then there's the reality of my time being consumed with caring for her and our toddler, and sleeping whenever I can, which has prevented me from posting another entry. Not that I am complaining for one second about caring for my new bundle of joy. In fact, my husband often tells me that I shouldn't hold Ainsley so much because she will get spoiled. If holding her and kissing her will make her spoiled, so be it. I just can't get enough of her!! So, be assured that while I may not be able to write as often as I would like, I am not ending this blog anytime soon.
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<br />Rainbows have been on my mind a lot lately, and seemed like a fitting topic for a blog entry. A good friend of mine, Beth, introduced me to the concept of "rainbow babies". For those who don't know, a rainbow baby is a baby who comes into a family following the loss of a baby. I hope she doesn't mind, but I have copied her words from a message she sent me several months ago that perfectly describes this concept. ""Rainbow Babies" is the understanding that the beauty of a rainbow does not negate the ravages of the storm. When a rainbow appears, it doesn't mean the storm never happened or that the family is not still dealing with its aftermath. What it means is that something beautiful and full of light has appeared in the midst of the darkness and clouds. Storm clouds may still hover but the rainbow provides a counterbalance of color, energy and hope." (Thanks again Beth!)
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<br />Ainsley is our rainbow baby, and, obviously, since this concept was introduced to me, rainbows have had a whole new meaning.
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<br />Just a couple of weeks before Ainsley was born, I took our son, Owen, to the hospital to visit my aunt. While we were walking to her room, we noticed the most amazing double rainbow. It was beautiful. Despite the fact that the definition of a rainbow baby would have referred to Ainsley, seeing this rainbow made me think of Lily. In addition to the rainbows, just being in the hospital made me think of Lily. Being there also made me think of Ainsley's pending arrival and the fact that I would be a patient in labor and delivery for a third time in just a couple of weeks. As I was staring out the window at the two rainbows, I thought of both of my girls.
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<br />A couple weeks later, Ainsley was born. We rejoiced when she finally arrived. I couldn't wait to bring her home. The very day that we got home, I noticed that the lilies that we planted in Lily's garden had bloomed for the first time. These gorgeous pink lilies seemed like such an obvious sign to me that Lily was smiling down on us and welcoming Ainsley into our family. I believe that she knows that bringing our little girl home would finally give me a sense of peace and comfort.
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<br />As I mentioned in my last entry, Ainsley was diagnosed with ASD, a hole in her heart. Since that entry, she has had some difficulty breathing and has also been diagnosed with VSD, a second hole in her heart. She is being followed by a pediatric cardiologist to monitor it. Upon learning this news, we were devastated. We don't want our little girl to hurt or suffer for even a second. After we finally met with the specialist and had a third echo done, we were told that if these holes do not close on their own, surgery may be required. In Ainsley's case, this would mean open heart surgery to put a patch over the hole. Our family and friends began to pray for our little rainbow baby, and we felt ourselves in the midst of yet another storm.
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<br />The day after we met with the specialist, Ainsley's big brother was coloring and drawing with a new pack of markers. He asked if I would help him draw a rainbow. Now, he has no idea that rainbows are of any significance or that they carry any special meaning. While we drew, we talked about the double rainbow that we saw about two months ago, and I thought about all that has happened in the last two months. Drawing rainbows with my son that day reminded me to think only of the calm and the peace that comes after the storm, rather than focusing on the storm itself.
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<br />I began writing this entry last week, but didn't get a chance to finish it. Last night, we had dinner with my family, which included my niece, Caroline. You may remember her paper plate picture that I shared in a previous blog entry. Well, I just have to share her artwork once again. I just can't help myself. It is the perfect ending to this entry. Before dinner, Caroline handed me an envelope with Ainsley's name on it written in pink marker, and she simply said "this is for Ainsley". We didn't open it until we got home, but once I saw her drawing, I couldn't contain my smile, and I just had to share it.
<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643870186973535010" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB4gGAphNMEP61LfGqzTe7ybWWWgPFaRKtQW3HgiYnQLKAaKKaZaEmf7Jv5z04cyv7BvEAClCGsS7N1ThEx6-jmXqaaSwU2g0pNIvFns9h5HUQencyjn9SbjH6zXzyUP5ZQIgmMpdj4sU/s400/rainbow+003.jpg" />
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<br />Lily's mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845480396668081458noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5897903181052372091.post-60088272338337518682011-06-22T19:41:00.001-07:002011-06-24T16:57:56.488-07:00Blessed!!I am truly blessed. That word actually seems like an understatement right now. I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, Ainsley, just four days ago. Every mother who brings a child into this world has a story to tell of their own very personal and unique delivery experience. Most mothers I've come across love to talk about their childbirth experience. I have now had 3 deliveries, and each one has been quite different from the others. My pregnancy with Ainsley was great! I was relieved to have very regular appointments with specialists who kept a close eye on her as a result of our experience with our little Lily. All signs looked positive at each and every appointment. Despite the consistent good news, I couldn't completely cast my anxiety away. As my due date drew closer, I began to feel more and more nervous about the endless possiblities I may be confronted with during delivery. <br />Ainsley's birth was another reminder to me of how precious life is. Not that I needed another reminder of that, and certainly not in the delivery room, but God chose to use this experience to demonstrate His faithfulness and to remind me, yet again, that He is in control. Ainsley made her way into this world with a knot in her umbilical cord. When the Dr. was asked if it was a problem, she replied "No, but it could have been". I didn't completely realize at the time the potential danger this could have posed for our little girl. We were so relieved to see her, hold her, and hear her make her first noises. While I was surprised to hear that her birth weight was so much smaller than her brother's had been, I was proud to learn that her Apgar score was a 9.9/10. She was healthy, and by Dr. Sweeney's early description, "perfect"!!!<br />I had anticipated an emotional delivery as I prepared to bring my second daughter into the world. Instead I felt peace the moment she was placed on my chest. Remember the woman who had commented to me that Lily was coming back to me? Well, Ainsley reminded me of Lily right away. Among my most treasured posessions are pictures of Lily taken at the hospital. Most likely they will never be posted on this blog because they are far too personal, but you must believe me when I say that the similarities between Lily and Ainsley are undeniable. <br />After I came down from my delivery high, I began to think more about the knotted umbilical cord. I later asked the doctor for clarification on her comment that the knot could have posed a problem. She explained that this could have caused restricted oxygen flow, which could have resulted in a "demise" or death. Wow. <br />The reality of that statement hit me like a ton of bricks. When she left the room, I let out every bit of pent up emotion that I had been carrying around for the last nine months. I cried in my husband's arms as I thought about how I would have survived another loss. Of course he reminded me that our little miracle was healthy and not going anywhere, and I know he's right. <br />I don't think I took any bit of this pregnancy for granted, and I definitely didn't think about the delivery lightly, but this experience, in my opinion, was such an obvious reminder from God to never ever take this child's life for granted. He gave us this tremendous gift, and in that moment in the delivery room, He instructed me to cherish it forever.<br />Two days after Ainsley was born, as we prepared to leave the hospital, the pediatrician told us that he had detected a heart murmur the day before and that it seemed to be louder and more pronounced. He had ordered an echo to get a closer look at her heart. The echo found that Ainsley has ASD, atrial septal defect, which is a hole between the top two chambers of the heart. A pediatric cardiologist will see her in a couple of months to follow up on this, but it appears as if it isn't a situation to be overly concerned with at this point. Surprisingly, I took this news rather well. I have survived my own daughter's death and had just absorbed the fact that my second daughter could have died. I can handle this. My husband was the strong one when I had my meltdown the day before, but I needed to be there for him on this day. After receiving this news, he felt discouraged and he commented "we just can't seem to get a break". I can see where he's coming from, but as I'm typing this blog entry with just one hand, I am glancing down at our beautiful six pound ten ounce creation in my other arm and I know that we got way more than a break this time. We got a blessing in every sense of the word.Lily's mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845480396668081458noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5897903181052372091.post-64931534412967514152011-06-06T06:27:00.001-07:002011-06-07T18:27:59.658-07:00Birthday GirlMy dearest Lily,<br /><br />Happy 1st Birthday baby girl!! We had such a great time celebrating you and your life on your birthday! Mommy misses you terribly, but I tried really hard to stay focused on making today a celebration of you rather than a time to mourn your absence. We spent the evening with your grandparents, aunt, uncle, and cousins. They all came together just for you, to celebrate you. We each wrote you a message on a pink balloon to send to you in heaven. I hope you received each one of them. You know, your brother was adamant about sending you a green balloon from him since that is his favorite color. He had such fun drawing pictures and writing messages to you on his very special balloon. He knew that it would reach you in heaven, and he was intent on watching it soar until he couldn't see it anymore . It brought tears to my eyes to hear him acknowledge that it was on it's way to heaven to be with you. I am so proud of him for understanding where you are and knowing that you are with Jesus, who loves you and protects you. After all, this is what brings us peace everyday.<br /><br />I look forward to every occassion that we can celebrate you Lily! Your life has meant so much to me, and I treasure every single memory that I have of my time with you. I've expressed so many times what you have done for me. Your short time here with me gave my entire life meaning. You brought me closer to the things that are most important in this world. You have taught me more than I could ever imagine that I would have taught you. You have been such an inspiration and source of strength for me.<br /><br />I look forward to the day that I will see you again, but in the meantime, I remain grateful for your life and your influence on me. You know that Daddy, Owen and I are preparing to meet your baby sister really soon. I am really looking forward to seeing her and holding her because I believe that she will remind me of you. I imagine that the two of you would have had so much in common, and that you may even look a lot alike. I'm sure I will think of you often as I watch her grow and develop. She will be a very special reminder to me of you in so many ways. You have both brought such precious and significant meaning to each other's lives in my eyes. Although it is still sad for me to think that you had to join Jesus before she could come into our lives, the two of you will always be my very special little girls.<br /><br />I pray that you felt the love of your family on your birthday as much as we all felt your presence with us. The same God who loves you and holds you close has been watching over us to offer us comfort and strength when we feel weak. He is our common bond, and it is through Him that I feel most connected to you. You consumed my mind and heart all day long, just as you have so many other days throughout this past year. You are always loved, and will never be forgotten.<br /><br />Remember Psalm 23: 4 <em>Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. </em>Your Uncle Steve introduced this verse to me through music. He used to sing it in church, and it has always had special meaning to me. It is a song that I now think of you when I hear. Lily, God never lets go. He is always there, and I will be too. I love you to pieces.<br /><br />Happy Birthday sweet baby girl!<br /><br />Love always,<br />Mommy<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2DGTpLJAGe_3BPPyl_OyYd4uJWIxc3BuSNIJYHB2yPEqIyMnuEjpBx7UKA43Yncr9-F0AvqkXUyDd24iOT2gWkWwBS26p9f8Q5kai6As8wz4fM0wxfNMF3sC_aOI0fk5IyIyT996d7Io/s1600/spring+049.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615650822399792978" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 244px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2DGTpLJAGe_3BPPyl_OyYd4uJWIxc3BuSNIJYHB2yPEqIyMnuEjpBx7UKA43Yncr9-F0AvqkXUyDd24iOT2gWkWwBS26p9f8Q5kai6As8wz4fM0wxfNMF3sC_aOI0fk5IyIyT996d7Io/s320/spring+049.jpg" border="0" /></a>Lily's mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845480396668081458noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5897903181052372091.post-15227470925837770882011-05-31T13:48:00.000-07:002011-06-01T18:23:49.112-07:00Memorial Day weekendAs an American, I am humbled, honored, and full of pride for my country when I think about Memorial Day, and all that it means. With that said, I will forever have memories about what this holiday weekend has meant to me personally over the last year.<br /><br />On Wednesday of last week, I remembered my 18 week sonogram appointment that I had when I was pregnant with Lily. It was the Wednesday before Memorial Day weekend that this appointment took place. Last week, I thought about the conflicting thoughts and emotions that I had when I left that appointment. I wanted so badly to feel hopeful and to cast out fear, but I had such a sinking feeling that, unfortunately, turned out to be my reality.<br /><br /><br /><p>I remembered the phone call that I had with the doctor later that same afternoon. She began the conversation by saying "I'm very concerned". She proceeded to list the many abnormalities that showed up on the sonogram earlier that day. She rattled off information about dilated ureters, a thickened nucal fold, and brain structures that were not clearly visualized. I listened intently and took notes as she spoke. I very clearly remember her saying that this was definitely not an isolated birth defect, and that due to the multiple abnormalities, our baby likely had some kind of "chromosome abnormality or syndrome". She went on to suggest a higher level sonogram, and she suggested that we get it done as soon as possible. Her urgency hit me like a ton of bricks. I hung up the phone and sobbed.<br /></p><br /><br /><p>Thursday of last week, I remembered the appointment that we had in Annapolis last year just 24 hours after we found out we were having the baby girl we always wanted. It was there that I had the very surreal experience of meeting with a genetic counselor who educated us on the many chromosome abnormalities, all while I wondered why she was going into so much detail about such horrific birth defects. Surely, this couldn't apply to us, I thought. I had myself convinced that our baby had Down's Syndrome, not a life threatening condition. I remembered her very sincere and patient approach. Although our local doctor had mentioned that the brain structures were not clearly visualized, I minimized this assuming that it was due to a faulty, low quality sonogram machine. I didn't realize that it was because the brain structures were not there. The reality was that our baby only had one "brain structure", not two. I remembered the way she looked at me, as I sat in disbelief listening to the facts and looking at her DNA charts. I remembered the way she hugged me after I used the last tissue from her box. I thought about the way the doctor delivered the worst case scenario news to us. We left the examination room to be greeted again by the genetic counselor who offered me another hug in the hallway. She knew that the doctor was only confirming her suspicions, and that we were now faced with a very harsh reality. I thought about the ride home, and the way that we delivered the news to our families. I thought about their reactions. Although this all occurred one year ago, these details will be forever burned in my memory.</p>Needless to say, the remainder of this weekend last year felt nothing like a holiday to me. We cancelled the plans that we had to go out of town. We had planned a fun-filled trip for our nearly 2 year old son to enjoy the remaining time that we would have with him as an only child. Little did we know that he would never meet his sibling, and that he would have much more one-on-one time with us in the months to come. Instead of watching him smile and laugh all weekend, he watched me cry and grieve.<br /><br />This year, we spent this weekend together as a family. We planted a memorial garden for Lily at home. We've been talking about doing this ever since we moved here last year. My mom took me to a local nursery, and helped me select the perfect things to put in the garden. I love that Lily's grandmother could be a part of making her garden so special. We even included a couple of plants and flowers that were able to be moved from my parents' yard to her garden. Nearly everything we planted has some special meaning, whether it is one of my favorite flowers or its name simply brings me peace and makes me smile (Touch of Heaven and Lily of the Valley). Creating this garden has given me a special place at home that I can look and instantly think of Lily. Doing this also allowed me to give this weekend a different meaning, and to feel inspired and hopeful.<br /><br />I have a different perspective now on what Memorial Day may be like for so many other American families. I've thought a lot this weekend about all of the parents who have lost their children. Although I never experienced life with Lily, she was still in my life and will always be huge part of my life. She is my baby, and losing her has been like losing a part of me. Although Lily didn't fight in a war, she was fighting the battle of her life before her life even began. Memorial Day, like so many other days, will never be the same for me.Lily's mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845480396668081458noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5897903181052372091.post-46791891982468293122011-05-10T06:08:00.000-07:002011-05-16T14:42:43.667-07:0011 MonthsWith my pregnancy hormones in full swing, this has proven to be a very difficult month for me as I find myself just one month away from the time we lost our Lily, as well as the time we will meet our second daughter. It seems strangely conincidental that the timing of the one year anniversary of Lily's death is so close to the pending birth of our baby girl, who is due to arrive just a week and a half after Lily's delivery date.<br />Over the course of this last month, the realization that June may be an overwhelming month for me is an understatement. Although this pregnancy has gone by fairly quickly for me, especially once we were reassured that our baby appeared healthy, the realness of another delivery is upon me and has hit me hard. Once I hit the 30 week milestone in my pregnancy, I was immediately overwhelmed by emotion. I found myself fearing the worst possible outcome, and thinking about it at the most random times. It could be that I would remember pieces of another mother's tragic story of loss or that I would hear lyrics in a song that made me think of Lily, and next thing I knew, I was wiping away tears as I drove myself to work or to pick Owen up from daycare. These moments almost always hit me when I am alone, which always seems to be when I'm in the car. I am 35 weeks pregnant now, and thankfully, some of this has eased up a little.<br />Over the next 5 weeks, I anticipate many more ups and downs, waves of irrational fear, and emotional meltdowns. It was during this time in my pregnancy with Owen that I began to fear the labor and delivery process. I wondered how bad it would be, how much it would hurt, and how strong I would be. After experiencing the physical pain of labor and the emotional pain of delivering my deceased child, I now know how strong I am. That is no longer in question.<br />In preparing for my third delivery, I fear how healthy my child will be and if anything will go wrong during delivery that could jeopardize her health or her life. I realize that the statistics are in my favor, and the chances of something going wrong are slim; however, I also know what the statistics were that Lily would have Trisomy 18,and I never would have guessed that my family would be a part of that very small number, so I know that anything is possible.<br />I spent the majority of Mother's Day alone with my son, yet surrounded by all three of my children. I thought for a moment about the fact that while Owen was here with me, Lily was here in spirit, and our newest miracle was in my womb. They each consumed me physically, mentally, and emotionally throughout the day, and I was full of gratitude. I kept myself busy, and tried not to focus too much on the fact that it was pretty quiet and peaceful with only one child to play with instead of two.<br />My husband recently pointed out that I have been pregnant now for 13 out of the last 16 months. I thought about this a lot on Mother's Day, and realized that the experience of growing and nurturing your child while patiently anticipating their arrival into your world is the best gift you could ever have on Mother's Day, and I have been blessed to experience this feeling three times. What an amazing gift.<br />As I remind myself of my pregnancy mantra...<em>Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God</em>... my fear disipates and I am full of HoPE.Lily's mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845480396668081458noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5897903181052372091.post-83947691748477505412011-04-06T16:37:00.000-07:002011-04-06T16:39:32.697-07:0010 months and a new perspectiveWow- 10 months. I'm not even sure where to begin this time. I've had lots of random thoughts recently that I will attempt to express in some organized fashion, but I can't promise that this entry will even make much sense. <br />First, I want to address the fundraising ideas that were discussed several months ago. Just to clarify, I am still very interested in coordinating an event to raise funds for the Trisomy 18 foundation. This interest and passion has not gone away; however, my originial intention to host something on or around Lily's birthday will not happen this year because our baby is due to arrive about a week later, and, even I realized that this is too much to handle this year. I do not want to let this dream go, though, so I will continue to brainstorm ways to make this happen in the future. I still appreciate every one of you who has offered ideas and suggestions, and volunteered to help. I haven't forgotten you, and I'm sure that I will re-enlist your help when the time comes. For this year, though, we are hoping acknowledge Lily's birthday and remember her in a smaller, more intimate way. Many of you know that we were never able to put together a memorial service for her, and that is something that we have regrets about. We were hoping that hosting a fundraiser in her honor would allow us to have a positive memorial for her, and because it won't happen this year, I already have mommy guilt about Lily's baby sister overshadowing her. I have made it a point to be clear on a number of occasions that another pregnancy and another child will not replace my experience with Lily. I have reminded myself repeatedly that this baby certainly will not ease the pain of Lily's death. I think that I've been so rigid about this way of thinking, though, that I have failed to see other perspectives. <br />I recently had a conversation with an aquaintance who didn't realize that I lost my Lily last summer. After seeing my pregnant belly, she asked "Oh, is this your 3rd?". Now, let me deviate momentarily to discuss my thoughts on the many variations of this question. I know for certain that the inevitable question of "How many children do you have?" is one of the most dreaded questions any parent who has lost a child can face. We all struggle at times with how best to answer this. Do I answer with the number of living children that I have, or do I go on to explain that I have one child in heaven. Sharing this information will no doubt alter the rest of the conversation and the way the other person responds to you, even the way they will look at you. I am always very mindful to not make others feel uncomfortable, however, by not acknowledging my daughter, it is as if she was not real or not important enough to talk about, and that is not acceptable to me. I'm not sure that others realize the impact that this seemingly simple question can have on people. The internal struggle, debate, and dialogue that happens in my mind before I let out an answer seems to go on for minutes, not the second that it probably takes for me to answer. <br />So, I responded to her question truthfully, and she offered me the most heart felt and genuine reaction I think I have ever experienced. She didn't look down or look away or apologize for asking. (A word of advice for anyone else in this situation- please don't apologize for asking the question. Most of us in this situation love the opportunity to talk about each of our children, living or not, but we just don't want to make you uncomfortable.) She immediately reached over and placed her hand on mine, and seemed interested in hearing about my daughter. She referred to her as my angel. The conversation moved back to my pregnancy and the feelings that I have had throughout the pregnancy, and when she learned that I am having another girl, she made the comment that Lily is coming back to me. It took me a second to process this idea. I smiled and nodded, but have since thought about this a lot. I've been so careful to see this baby as a completely separate individual, and I've honestly been somewhat struggling with the balance of processing my ongoing feelings about our experience with Lily and trying to not let fear have a negative impact on my pregnancy. I never once considered the idea that Lily is "coming back" to me. I've been so worried about leaving Lily behind and the fact that this baby's arrival is preventing me from celebrating Lily's life the way we intended to. I still don't really know how I feel about the idea that she is coming back to me, but it has brought me a new perspective that makes me feel a little more peace and joy.Lily's mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845480396668081458noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5897903181052372091.post-20020051868143406202011-03-15T17:39:00.000-07:002011-03-19T18:10:28.544-07:00TimelineHave you noticed the Lilypie timeline on the right side of the screen for my blog? It documents how long it's been since our baby went to heaven. I'm really starting to resent that timeline. I remember when I was putting this blog together, and I added this feature, the image of the baby was not even up to the number 1 yet, and I wondered what things would feel like as she progressively moved forward getting further and further away from the 1. I thought things would be easier. People say that times heals all wounds, and that grief gets easier with time. In some ways, I can see the rationale behind these statements, but this is not something I would ever choose to say to someone experiencing grief.<br /><br />I've caught myself a couple of times recently checking out this visual symbol of my grief timeline, and I find myself feeling angry because I don't feel a sense of accomplishment that I am further away from the 1. I remember when this angel was in the midst of the image of the tree, and I thought that was the eye of the storm for me. She has since moved pretty far away from that tree, and there is nothing left, nowhere for her to go. What will happen when the tree is completely off of the screen? It's like the storm is that much further behind me, but I don't really want it to be that far behind. I actually wish I could reverse time. I would intentionally choose to re-experience all of my feelings of grief and sorrow to have those hours with my baby in the hospital again. I would go through all of the agony again: the harsh reality of an imperfect sonogram, the appointments with the doctors, the discussions with the specialists, the dreaded walk into the hospital, the labor and delivery, the surgery after the delivery, the drive to the funeral home to pick up my daughter's ashes by myself, and the subsequent drive home with her in my lap (which really could be a post all by itself) because all of that was so closely related to the time I spent looking at her face and feeling her weight in my hands.<br /><br />It's kind of strange how something so insignificant can cause such a profound emotional reaction, but looking at that silly baby angel on my timeline really just reminds me how long ago it was that I saw her face, and that feeling sometimes overrides the "benefits" of nine months of grief time under my belt. Every once in a while, something like this hits me so out of the blue that I never saw it coming and others around me would probably not understand. Maybe this is a just fleeting bout of negativity as this image struck me wrong today, but I do feel better after venting about it. I'll keep the timeline up for now, and re-evaluate how I feel about it again sometime in the next few months.Lily's mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845480396668081458noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5897903181052372091.post-42660587436308136202011-03-07T15:43:00.000-08:002011-03-15T17:15:44.240-07:009 months<em>For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. </em>Psalm 139: 13-16.<br /><br /><br />I love this!! As much as I like to think about how these verses apply to our newest blessing still being formed in my womb, I like to think about this even more so with Lily. Given the circumstances, I could see how someone else in our situation might doubt these words, but I have no doubt that Lily was, quite literally, fearfully and wonderfully made. God had complete control over her body and her life. Her imperfections are what made her perfect. Her unformed, even deformed body, though difficult for others to see were easily seen by Him. To Him, and me, she was beautiful.Lily's mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845480396668081458noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5897903181052372091.post-5885335256345132012011-02-07T17:00:00.001-08:002011-02-09T13:55:00.829-08:008 MonthsYesterday marked the eight month anniversary of Lily's death. It was Superbowl Sunday. One year ago, on Superbowl Sunday, we found out that I was expecting. I can vividly remember the rush of feelings that we experienced that day as we stared at the row of pregnancy tests on the bathroom counter. We were beyond excited, and there was something kind of powerful about the two of us being the only ones who knew that I was carrying a child. I'm sure most other mothers can also remember how they felt on the day they found out they were pregnant. I don't ever want to forget those feelings. It was magical. Lily was loved and cherished from the very beginning. So, on the eight month anniversary, I am choosing to think only about that and nothing else because that makes me smile.Lily's mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845480396668081458noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5897903181052372091.post-90530685810202026462011-01-23T14:23:00.000-08:002011-01-26T14:45:58.994-08:0019 weeks and 3 days on a Sunday...againToday, I am 19 weeks and 3 days pregnant. I was exactly 19 weeks and 3 days pregnant with Lily when she left the safety of my body and went to the glory of heaven. Last night, I kept thinking about that since I was in labor at the hospital at that point in my pregnancy with Lily. It would have been at 3:25 this morning that she was born, also on a Sunday. I woke up a few times throughout the night last night thinking about it. I've thought about it all day today. I've anticipated having these reminiscent thoughts on June 6, which will mark the one year anniversary of our baby's death. It has come as a surprise to me to have these feelings now, on a random cold day in January, but obviously this pregnancy has brought up a range of emotions that I experienced throughout my pregnancy with Lily.<br /><br />I realized that our newest miracle is now older than Lily will ever be. I can no longer compare this pregnancy to my pregnancy with Lily because I stopped being pregnant at this point, so prematurely. I almost feel like I am leaving her behind. I've read many blogs of women who have gotten pregnant after the loss of a baby, and it seems that feelings of guilt are not that uncommon. I can't say that I feel guilty for being pregnant with this baby, but I do often wonder if this child would have ever been a part of our lives if Lily were here with us. It is a strange feeling. I want to love all of my children equally and unconditionally, and I believe that this child is a blessing and a miracle because Lily's life and death allowed her to be a part of our lives at this time.<br /><br />I remember how unnatural it felt to be nearly 20 weeks pregnant with a swollen belly, walking into the hospital feeling as if I were facing my own death, then leaving not pregnant anymore. I sometimes wonder how I ever made it through that experience. I talked to myself trying to convince myself that I was strong enough and brave enough. I remember thinking that I wasn't emotionally prepared to be in labor that soon. I was only half way there. I can't imagine being in labor today because I should still have 20 weeks to prepare myself. In addition to the odd pregnancy dreams that are to be expected, I dream often about going into early labor and giving birth to a baby who has prematurely passed away.<br /><br />I pray every week for God's will to be done as He sees fit, but meanwhile I selfishly hope for at least one more week with my child in my womb. The weeks have slowly added up, but I still have nearly 20 more to go, and that's a lot. What would have been the final 20 weeks of my pregnancy with Lily were spent grieving. At times it felt like time stood still, while other times, I couldn't believe how quickly my due date came and went. I have prayed more for my unborn child during this pregnancy than I did with either of my previous pregnancies, and it has brought me much needed peace, especially when I'm 19 weeks and 3 days.Lily's mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845480396668081458noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5897903181052372091.post-37903188126208537252011-01-11T08:06:00.000-08:002011-01-12T17:25:12.382-08:0018 weeksI've been thinking a lot about Lily the last couple of weeks. I was 18 weeks pregnant with her when we learned the devastating news of her condition. I am 18 weeks pregnant with her sister now. It feels like a major emotional milestone for me to be at this point. Sometimes I perceive that others compare Lily's death to an early pregnancy miscarriage. I don't think of it that way at all. Not to minimize a miscarriage because I am certain that it is equally as devastating to lose a baby earlier in the pregnancy, but I didn't lose an embryo or just a fetus. I lost my daughter.<br /><br /><br />If you could see me now, you couldn't deny that I am growing a life in my womb. My pregnant belly is quite obvious. I can't disregard my daughter's existence merely because she has not been developing for 40 weeks. During these 18 weeks, she has grown limbs, fingers, toes, ears, eyes, a mouth, a nose, a brain, a heart, a stomach, kidneys, and the many other parts that make her human. She is here now, and I am remembering my feelings of guilt following that very memorable doctor's appointment during my pregnany with Lily. This time, I am reminding myself how fortunate I am to have had the last 18 weeks with my daughter. This time, I am embracing each day and each week as it comes, and feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude.<br /><br /><br />I still wonder what things would have been like had Lily been a healthy baby girl. Obviously, I will never have the opportunity to have the answer to that, but I do know how my life has been blessed and enriched as a result of her 19 weeks of life, and this week, during my 18th week of pregnancy, I'm thinking of her a lot.Lily's mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845480396668081458noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5897903181052372091.post-19108242622249436822011-01-05T18:23:00.001-08:002011-01-06T06:58:32.563-08:007 months and birthday cakeFor the most part, I happily welcomed the new year this year. I've never really been one to get too excited about a new year. I'm not big on new year's resolutions or the idea of starting a new year fresh. I like to think of each day as a fresh start, no matter what year it is. This year was a little different. 2010 was not my best year, although, it also happens to be one I never want to forget. So, to see it come to an end was bittersweet.<br /><div><div><div><div>We had a wonderful Christmas with our son despite the obvious hole in our family. Our son seems to understand the meaning of Christmas, which makes me proud. He knows that Christmas is Jesus' birthday, although he kept asking where Jesus is and whether there would be birthday cake involved. This gave us the opportunity to have an incredible conversation a few weeks ago. I tried to explain that Jesus is in his heart, but that didn't seem to satisfy his curious little mind. I went on to talk about Jesus being in heaven, and this intrigued him. His interest in heaven compelled me to share that Jesus is in heaven with Lily. I've been thinking more and more lately about how and when the time would be right to tell him about Lily, and now that he is aware that he will be having a baby sister, I'm thinking about it even more because I want him to know that she is not his only baby sister. Before Lily died, he was aware that there was a baby in my belly, and he had decided on his own that it was a girl. I've wondered recently if he thinks I am carrying the same baby that we've made mention to for nearly a year. I certainly don't want to confuse him by saying more than he can comprehend, but I also don't want to dismiss the life that she had when he was so aware of it. I have pointed out that his baby sister, Lily, is in heaven with Jesus, and his other baby sister is in my belly getting big and strong just to make sure he isn't confusing the two. </div><div>Who knew that the explanation about the meaning of Christmas would open the door to talk to my two year old about Lily. I had a feeling that when the time was right to talk to him about her, I would know it, and I'm so glad that it happened that way. It was heart warming to look into his big blue eyes as he listened very intently and nodded his head as I talked. He even asked to pray for Lily that night, which was incredibly touching since his recent prayer requests have been for things like the characters from Madagascar and Cars. </div><div></div><div></div><div>So, if Lily and Jesus were in heaven together on Jesus' birthday, do you think they shared birthday cake? </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>Owen thin<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg7bgB6pgpHsvLObD7s31IbvzZmHGj40mBouclP_KYxtlVnv6iC4SSvoJ_2yVrGPMHUjUHmiljVNptHPmAlVOUjBkdLwEEL2gymeIbDeApCPjHTLzNzwfiRlTUozFThopla0Hv0Itfjp4/s1600/IMG_2966.JPG"></a>k<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpcPvofkyFGTU9yeg5ECw5S2FezF4KKzRdqEyI6kggQvJWgYd8e_r6_WT16RHPFZpx2BL7PXDfk0oK-woQM_0Ch-QiZ6zfNPJTnrQTj20o0MgQX_w-BeISB6MGQElNqDq4zizsRgbk-bo/s1600/lily+tree.jpg"></a>s so, and who am I to argue with that? :)</div><div></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558905351865980338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 357px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 253px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZKnxJhrRK2stSl9BcRUC3T1ciQZCONw7fpPIjo5SG-EjgVUMDbDr1axlOBhse8iozfFQ91vWRpWepPbZmvL_6m52sWxr4REudvZFZsGy1rhWSa6Ldg22hIhaG8tpuK_aeZZPnaFtN6xQ/s400/IMG_2966.JPG" border="0" /></div><div></div></div></div></div>Lily's mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845480396668081458noreply@blogger.com2