Sleeping Babies

When I was in elementary school (I don't remember what grade) my class read on of the "Little House on the Prairie" stories.  In it Papa Ingalls was not home overnight and a bear (I think) came too close to the cabin and Mama Ingalls had to scare it away.  After the incident the mom picked up her sleeping baby and rocked with him.  My teacher explained to us that holding a sleeping baby can be one of the most comforting feelings.  I didn't understand it at the time.

Now I do.

There is just something about having an innocent child tucked in your arms that can calm almost anything.  Their rhythmic breathing, the sound of their tiny snores and sighs, and the complete and utter trust that they put in you when they sleep while you hold them seems to make everything else melt away.  This is one of the reasons I love to check on my boys each night before I go to bed.  No matter how tough of a day we have had, no matter how much yelling I may or may not have done, no matter the number of time-outs, the frustrations, or stresses, even just watching my boys sleep is incredibly comforting-- bonus points if I get to snuggle one or both of them for even just a few seconds while they snooze.  And during those quiet moments I can sometimes catch glimpses of Ethne.

The first time I saw Ethne after the accident was when we went to the funeral home to dress her.  I thought she might look like she was sleeping, but I was wrong and it made things so much harder than I thought they would be.  We were told that we could hold her if we wanted to, and before we saw her I did, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it once I saw her.  Her precious body just lay there on the table, stiff and cold, no sweet breaths, no tiny snores or sighs, she didn't even smell like herself.  Her head, face, and body looked bruised and pale and her perpetual mischievous grin was gone.  It hurt my heart so much to see her that way.  We slowly dressed her--with me bawling and Lawrence doing most of the heavy lifting (and work)-- in her sparkly Christmas dress, with Disney princess panties, tights, black shoes, and an elephant necklace.  I held her cold hand for most of the dressing, too lost in my grief to recognize that the body on the table wasn't really my little girl, but only her mortal vessel.

The funeral was different.  Before the funeral I took some medication that left me a bit dazed.  Add to that all the people and the whirl of activity and I was in a very different state.  I was still very sad, I cried through all of the viewing and funeral.  Our funeral director tried to allow for us to have time alone to hold her, and I was very much looking forward to it, but because of the throngs of people who came we ended her viewing late.  So during the family prayer I held my baby girl's body for the last time.  It wasn't near long enough.  It was the most alert I had felt since the accident, she was wrapped in a blanket made by loving hands and holding her Ariel doll.  As long as I didn't look at her face, covered in makeup, I could almost believe that she wasn't gone.  It was almost like she was sleeping in my arms.  Then it was over-- someone took her away from me, despite my protests-- and I had to accept that that was it.  It didn't go over well.

Since then I have come to realize that the body I held that day, the one that we put in the ground in the white box, was only Ethne's mortal vessel.  She still lives, just on a different plain, as a spirit.  She is with us often and instead of me holding her while she sleeps to calm myself, she holds me in my times of need.  It is strange, as a parent, to have that role reversed, but one day it will be the right way around again-- because we are an eternal family.

Ephant

We talk a lot about Ethne and her elephant...

Summer 2010 we came to Utah for a visit.  During that visit we went to the Hogle Zoo with Grandma, Grandpa, and my two younger brothers while Lawrence went to some job interviews.  It was so much fun to watch my youngest brother and Ethne (only a couple months apart in age) interact and their reactions to the animals.  Ethne was particularly fond of the Elephants and the large cats (tigers, leopards, lions).  Ethne was just figuring out many animal sounds so she was particularly excited to see the ones that she knew the sounds for.  After we sufficiently wore our legs out and went for a train ride we stopped in the gift shop to get souvenirs for each of the kids.  As we walked in there was a tower of stuffed animals that Ethne was instantly attracted to.  The first animal I picked off the shelf for her was the elephant.  She hugged it and held on tight.  I tried to offer her other animals, toys, books, even shirts.   But she would have none of it, shaking her head at each new offering and clutching the elephant even tighter while buzzing her lips together to make an elephant sound.  She was sold.  After that she and the elephant were inseparable.  It slept with her, rode in the car with her, went to Grandma's house with her, she even wanted to take it to church.  When she started talking the elephant quickly became known as "ephant" since she dropped the L when she said it.  It was one of the three toys (along with her Ariel doll and her yellow lab puppy) that she wasn't willing to share when Mr. E came along.  One time Ethne got a tummy bug and her ephant caught the brunt of her upset tummy.  Ethne was not happy that I had to wash Ephant and she waited by the washing machine for about half the cycle for it to come out (that's a long time for a little girl) and then watched a fair amount of the dryer cycle too.  Ephant was always the first thing she made sure was in bed with her.

It was also the first thing I was able to hold in bed with me while in the hospital.

Elephants were special to me before Ethne's ephant ever came along, though.  When I was a teenager my Grandparents served a 3-year mission in Zimbabwe, Africa.  When they come home they brought back lots of souvenirs that they shared with my aunts, uncles, cousins, and other family.  One of these souvenirs was a carved wooden egg of adult and baby elephants under a tree.  My Grandma gave this beautiful carving to me and told me that it reminded them of me because of the way I was always trying to be helpful and kind with my younger cousins.  I have always treasured these words from my Grandma and love having this carving in my home.  Before this gift elephants had been among my favorite animals, but this bumped them right up to the top-- maybe that's why that was the first toy I offered Ethne at the zoo so many years later.  Either way, I'm glad I did and so glad that she loved it so much.







Now I have a collection of Elephants to remind me that Ethne is always near.  Of course I have Ethne's treasured Ephant, but I also have my carving, an elephant key chain, a painting of Noah leading the elephant onto the ark, several stuffed elephants, a scarf, a beautiful wind chime, jewlery, and more.  I enjoy these gifts and reminders.  I love having Ethne's ephant in pictures, a physical reminder that she is always part of our family, even though she isn't physically with us.  I love the gifts of elephants that others send to me, they show me that they care and that they are thinking about my princess too.

Did you know that the old adage about elephants never forgetting is actually quite accurate?  Elephants have the longest recorded memories of any animal.  Family is also very important to elephants, they tend to stay together in large family groups and all the female elephants help with the care of baby elephants.  Elephants are also the only animal known to mourn and visit the bones of their dead.

I guess elephants and I are just meant to be.

Little Brother

Dear Baby Brother (I),

Just last week you celebrated your 5th birthday.  You were pretty excited about it and knew just what you wanted... Legos, or more specifically, The Flash legos and super hero legos (I pointed out that they were pretty much the same thing and you rolled your eyes at me).  You were so excited over all your presents, even though the Flash legos weren't among them.

I wonder if you noticed how hard it was for me to watch you do these things that Ethne should have done exactly two months earlier.

I remember well when you joined our family.  You came via foster care and were in sad shape-- your tiny body was bruised and broken, and I am willing to bet that your heart was too.  I was visiting while you stayed in the hospital and Mom spent a lot of time there with you.  Ethne was about 5 months old and was there when you came home.  She was certainly ahead of you in so many ways, but you two seemed to bond as she rolled around and climbed on you while you tried to adapt to your new home.  Then mom broke her toe/foot and we knew that meant you were there to stay, it just took the state a little longer to figure it out.  I watched from afar (mostly) as you healed and grew.




Then we moved to Utah.  That bond that you and Ethne shared in the beginning remained and became stronger as you spent more time together, especially as I student taught and after I went back to work.  You were still behind Ethne, developmentally.  You two were a team against Mom/Grandma-- you'd cause the trouble and Ethne would report.  Those beatings you took as a baby had slowed down your learning and Ethne was running circles around you in verbal skills, gross motor skills, and especially fine motor skills.  She showed you the things she knew, like how to drink from a straw and regular cup, how to use a spoon and fork, and she talked your sweet little ears off.  You watched her carefully, you listened to her stories, and you followed suite (now it's nearly impossible to get you to stop talking).  She was not only your niece, but your best buddy too.  We thought you two would grow up together, be best friends forever, but that was not to be.

I hope that you know that, even though it is sometimes hard for me to see you grow up without her, I love you.  I know that you are meant to complete our family.  You filled a hole that we didn't even really know was there until you had filled it.

I'm so glad Ethne had you there to show her how to get into mischief and make messes.

I'm sorry that she's not around to help you make those messes and to help keep you in check when you try to steal her lunch or do something naughty.

There are days when I just can't muster up the strength to see your smiling face, to count the increasing candles on your birthday cakes, to watch you cross another milestone that Ethne won't get to cross along with you, and days when it is all I can do to not cry as I watch the way you play with Mr. E and Baby J in ways that I imagine she would.  Please forgive me when I can't be there.

I love you, and I think that's why it is sometimes so painful, because I love her too.

Love,
Your big Sister

The First Few Days

A little over a year after Baby J's birth I have been reflecting.  I feel like I should share some of the experiences we had in the hospital after his birth and while he was in the NICU for the benefit of others.  Before I share, though, I want to make it clear that I appreciate every doctor and nurse that cared for us during this time.  Despite my frustrations (that will become evident hereafter), they were doing their jobs to the best of their abilities and trying not to make us worry too much.  Doctors and nurses have very difficult jobs and I truly appreciate them for all they do.  I feel I should also warm those who might be squeamish, there's some details about procedures that Baby J endured that might make you squirm.

about 36 hours old

Day 1, Dec. 26:  My water broke in the wee hours of the morning the day after Christmas.  When we arrived they got me right in and hooked up to iv and monitors quickly, when I was ready for my epidural they got the anesthesiologist came as quickly as he could.  He struggled getting the needle into the epidural space because he had me sitting up and my belly was just too big for me to bend enough to make the space big enough, but as soon as I laid down he got it right in.  The nurses were courteous and the delivering doctor was understanding of my special circumstances (not being allowed to push hard or for too long because of my carotid artery).  It was wonderful and very special to be able to hold Baby J immediately after he was born and they let me hold him for what seemed like a long time before they took him to clean and measure him, the even did his first APGAR test while I held him.  After he was cleaned and I was feeling like sitting up Baby J was very eager to eat and latched on right away.  They let him eat to his heart's content before they moved us to the mother baby room.

Day 2: I was anxious to get home, I don't like hospitals and just wanted to have my whole family together.  I figured that since his birth was so uneventful that we would be released in the afternoon/evening.  This was not to be when his pediatrician came to visit and learned that he had not pooped.  She told me that this was one of the requirements for babies to go home, and as disappointed as I was at the time, I now completely understand why.  This is about when problems started popping up.  Baby J had been nursing for short bursts about every 3 hours since his birth, but that suddenly stopped after 24-hours.  He wasn't really waking up to eat and when I tried to get him to nurse he just wasn't interested.  Baby J was gagging occasionally and soon he started spitting up yellow.  The nurses kept telling me that it was all fine as long as it didn't turn green and stayed in small amounts.  This is also when they started taking him to try and stimulate him and get him to go.  As the day progressed he continued to refuse to eat so we tried some other techniques, a nipple shield, pumping and then giving him the bottle, and S and N (nursing with a small tube attached to supplement with formula), and the lactation consultant came for a visit.  Then his spitting up increased and he still wouldn't eat.  The spit up turned green and had flecks of brown in it occasionally, I was very concerned by this point.  Every time he spit I called the nurses who came in and kept telling me (as if I was a first time mom and just didn't know) that spit up was completely normal and that the color was fine.  I kept insisting it was't and they kept trying to downplay my concerns, it was really frustrating.  I finally stopped calling them, they weren't listening to me and they were treating me like I didn't know what I was talking about.  Lawrence and my dad blessed him, I felt a little better.

anderson in his mouth to prevent spit-up iv in hand

Day 3:  They finally decided to do something.  The on-call pediatrician ordered an x-ray of his tummy to try and see what might be causing the problem.  The x-ray showed gas trapped in his bowels and that his colon was narrowed on the left side.  This is when they decided to send him to Primary's and the NICU.  Lawrence was out having a special breakfast with Mr. E.  They rushed back when I called with the news.  They told me that he would have to be transported either in a helicopter or ambulance.  That's when I lost it.  I basically begged the doctor not to send him in a helicopter, my mom was there, she explained why.  He went in an ambulance.  By the time the ambulance and the transport team arrived Baby J was rather dehydrated.  They had a difficult time getting an iv in him, it was really hard to watch them continuously poke my baby boy.  When we got to Primary's they gave us a very quick orientation, showed us how the NICU worked, where the pumping room was and where and how to store milk, then took Baby J for another x-ray.  Mom made me eat, Lawrence went with J.  The second x-ray they injected barium contrast into his bum to see if it would shed light on the situation.  It shed some light, but didn't give a definitive diagnosis.

that's an iv in his head, the one in his hand went bad

Day 4-7:  Were spent waiting.  Holidays tend to slow business processes down and hospitals are no exception, labs were running slower than usual.  J had an iv and a central line that were giving him fluids and nutrition and was having lots of wet diapers.  For about 24-hours after the barium x-ray his body slowly expelled most of the barium, but nothing else.  His nurses in the NICU were very compassionate and so wonderful to us.  We went home every night to sleep in our own bed and to let Mr. E sleep at home as well, he spent most of the days at Grandma and Grandpa's house playing with his uncles.  On day 5 they finally came and performed a biopsy of Baby J's rectum to make a final determination about what was causing his problem.  The results from this took two agonizing days.  Day 7 presented the official diagnosis of Hirschprung's Disease and we were given a plan of action.

Day 8:  Surgery day!  After the biopsy result the surgery resident explained to us that his surgery would be in two parts, one where they would find the "transition zone" where the ganglion nerve cells had formed and place an ostomy then he would have another surgery later to reconnect everything.  I was too dazed to ask the questions I should have asked about why they were doing the surgery in two parts and what the heck an ostomy was.  My mom knew what he was talking about (she was there with me at the time, Lawrence had to work, or had a cold, or maybe both), but I was feeling a little lost.  I wish I had asked.  On surgery day they took my baby to a place I wasn't allowed to go and we had to wait in a room full of other anxious parents.  They couldn't tell us how long the surgery would take because of the nature of it.  The way it worked is the surgeons took cell samples every few centimeters and sent them to be tested for the ganglion cells until they found the transition zone.  The length of the surgery was dependent on how long it took for the pathologists to get the results and how much of his intestine was effected. Lawrence made me eat, the cafeteria had blueberry pancakes and bacon.

Day 9-11:  More waiting.  We did make some friends while in the NICU, other parents with sick babies from all over.  One from Cedar City, another from Vegas.  It was good to have people to talk to during the long, quiet hours holding my baby with all his tubes and wires.  On day 10 they finally let him have milk through an NG tube (nasal gastric, up his nose and down to his belly). Little bits at a time to see how it would effect him and his digestion, gradually increasing until they decided he would be allowed to nurse.  Day 11 they had me do a lot of "teachings" that were required before he could go home.  There was a video on ostomy care and a CPR video, complete with creepy CPR dummy baby that we got to take home.  The wound care nurses also paid us a visit and talked about ordering supplies to take care of his ostomy.  Again, I wish I had asked more questions about what they were ordering for us and why because we wound up with things that we never used.

Day 12:  On our way up to the hospital Baby J's nurse called to ask if I could spend the night with him so they could evaluate how well he was nursing, I also feel like they wanted to check my competency (or something).  We were already half-way there and didn't want to turn around so I could gather supplies, so at lunch time we ran out and picked up a few things I would need for what we thought would be an overnight stay.  The wound care nurses came by again to give us a chance to change his ostomy bag and let us know where the supplies would be coming from, get insurance information, and our mailing address.  The first time changing his bag was nerve wracking, it's difficult to see part of your baby's insides on the outside and you want to be so gentle with them when all the nurse is telling you to do goes somewhat contrary to that.  J was also allowed to actually nurse by this point and he seemed anxious to do so, but was also a little lazy about it.  But he didn't like the bottle either...  Lawrence had to leave us since there wasn't room for us both in the family room and he had to work part of the next day.  I was stuck at the hospital, no car.  At some point during the night Baby J's monitors decided they didn't want to work properly and the computer started panicking and beeping every 5 minutes.  The sweet nurse fixed it, but it only lasted about 12 hours.  J's ostomy bag that I had just learned to replace also sprung a leak.  The night nurse didn't know how to apply a new bag so I got to try it by myself.  I was nervous and it took a couple tries, but I got one on, that promptly sprung a leak a few hours later...

Day 13:  What we thought was supposed to be an overnight stay was actually a 36-hour stay.  I was getting frustrated and anxious.  I didn't like being cooped up in the hospital without a car, I hadn't had a shower and didn't have clean clothes.  Lawrence brought me some clothes and a few other things for the second night.  Some time during the day the nurses got word that one of the former occupants of J's NICU room had tested positive for an antibiotic resistant bacteria and we had to take extra precautions to contain it.  This meant more hand washing and wearing a goofy gown until we were cleared.  This also made me even more anxious to go home.  Fortunately J's new bag stayed on all day.  I didn't sleep well this night because I started having flashbacks and dreams about my stay in the hospital after my car accident.

Day 14:  I was done.  Nurses and doctors had been telling me for days that he would eat better and gain weight better at home, but that he wasn't gaining enough weight yet to clear him to go home.  How contradictory!  I was on the verge of walking out with my baby whether they cleared him or not.  My mom talked some sense into me and told me to explain my frustrations to the doctors.  A lactation consultant and occupational therapist visited to make sure I was nursing properly and that J had a good latch and suck.  They both noted that everything looked great, just that he was a little lazy, and made the same comments about him doing better at home.  When the doctors came by for rounds I put my foot down.  I told them that I needed to take my baby home, that I was having flashbacks, and pointed out contradictory statements.  They made me promise to take him to the pediatrician to be weighed the next day (Friday) and the following Monday for weigh-ins and set up a home health nurse to check in on us too.  Then there was a car seat check to be sure he would breathe fine in the car seat and that the straps were adjusted properly.  We had to wait for Lawrence to get off work at 5, and we were free!

We were so happy to finally have our whole family together under the same roof.  We stopped to pick up Mr. E and my parents also supplied us with dinner.  Baby J was two weeks old and finally home!

How we celebrate

It may seem odd to those looking in, but we still celebrate Ethne's birthday every year.  It is a day for us to remember her and celebrate all the things we have learned from her short life and since.

I've mentioned that we use it as a day to celebrate our eternal family by attending the temple.  Many are aware of the service challenge we issued this year.  But we also do things Ethne enjoyed, we have cake, balloons, and sing "Happy Birthday."  This year Mr. E and I watched "Tangled," he picked it, he likes the "I Have a Dream" song, and it hit me particularly hard (more on that another time).  Then we all had chocolate toast for lunch.  I try to do something special that she would have liked with her cake, just as I do for my boys.  Last year it was a minion, this year I tried to make a butterfly out of cupcakes.  I also make sure to get a flavor that she would have enjoyed, this year it was red velvet and strawberry cheesecake (they screamed at me from the shelf that they were what Ethne would want).  There is a park next to the Herriman cemetery where Ethne rests, we meet there with any family that can and have cake.    Then we head over to the cemetery, leave balloons and often a small gift at her headstone, blow kisses, and send balloons to her in Heaven.  We also try to have a dinner that Ethne might have requested, after Lawrence and I got home from the temple and the boys were in bed we had one of Ethne's favorites, "cocorn" (popcorn).




Another way we remember is by looking through some of Ethne's special things that we keep in her chest.  Yesterday got a bit busy with service and celebrating so we didn't get to spend the time that we like to spend.  But while we ate our popcorn and Lawrence and I snuggled we did so under Ethne's quilt that Grandma Stone made for her, and hugged her "ephant."  We talked about Ethne and remembered her together.


It really was a wonderful day and I am thankful it was so full of so much goodness.  I know it's a few days late, but happy birthday, Princess!

Our acts of love

We issued the challenge, so it is only fair that we follow through and participate in it too.  We performed 5 acts of love to celebrate for our princess.  It made the day one of goodness and sharing rather than of sadness and mourning.  These acts of service and love helped us feel Ethne close to us and made a hard day much easier.  So here's what we did:

1.  Considering that Ethne's birthday falls on Veterans' day (a U.S. holiday to celebrate and thank all those who serve and have served in the armed forces) we thought it would be appropriate to do something for the troops.  I heard about an organization that sends care packages to those serving abroad and thought that would be a great way to go.  This organization collects leftover Halloween candy and puts it into care packages for the service men and women.  They also request hygiene items such as toothbrushes, toothpaste, floss, mouthwash, etc. along with the packages of candy.  So we gathered up our leftover candy, the majority of Mr. E's stash, and the traded candy from my younger brothers (they got legos instead) to make a total of 12.5 pounds of candy!  Then I added some dental floss and some mouthwash strips (those Listerine things that clear your sinuses for a week), packaged it all up and sent it off on Monday.  Added bonus-- we don't have all that candy sitting around to hinder our efforts to eat healthier.

2.  If you read this blog regularly then you know about little Ethan who recently passed away after a very long battle with Leukemia.  What you may not know is that his sweet mom is pregnant with baby #7 and is due at the end of the month.  I remember what it was like after Ethne passed (granted our situations are different).  There were days, especially after the help quit coming, that I just didn't want to get out of bed, much less think about making dinner.  I knew that my family needed to eat, but when you are grieving it is sometimes difficult to even think about the necessities.  Those were the days that I was most grateful for my sweet aunts, grandmother, and mother who had gotten together shortly after the accident and made me a whole bunch of freezer meals-- I had so many that there wasn't room in my freezer for them all and I had to store some at my parents' house.  I also very recently had a baby and remember well the exhaustion and busyness of a new baby.  Pair the two together and I'm not sure what I would have done.  With all this in mind I got to work and put together a handful of freezer meals for Ethan's family.  It really didn't take me long to get them all together, but I'm sure it will save Ethan's mom lots of time in the future when she is too tired to even think.  I dropped those off to her yesterday morning.  We were able to have a nice, short talk and give each other a hug that said more than any dinners ever could.  I am so grateful to know Ethan and his family and so thankful that I had the opportunity to help them in this small way.

3.  This is something I do kind of regularly, but it has been a few months since the last time I have done it and we thought it very appropriate to take bracelet sets up to Primary Children's on Ethne's birthday.

4.  This is another something that Lawrence and I do regularly, and have done every year on Ethne's birthday since she passed away, but still, it is service, and some of the best service we can give.  Shortly after Ethne's passing we determined to make her birthday a day to celebrate out eternal family rather than a day to be sad.  Yes we miss Ethne terribly, and days like her birthday can be more difficult than other days, but we try.  We gather as much of our family as we can and go participate in an endowment session at the temple.  We also encourage our family that is far away to participate in their nearest temple.  The temple is one of the places we can feel Ethne's spirit best, so we especially feel it is an appropriate place to go on her birthday.  We also know that we are helping others who have passed before us and that we are helping Ethne as she is teaching and serving others on the other side of the veil (to learn more about LDS temples just click).  This year we were able to attend with my (Melissa's) parents and paternal grandmother.  We were sad that more weren't able to attend with us, but understood that work schedules can be hard to get around.  The session was made sweeter when my sister, Jessica's, brother and his wife were also in attendance and Lawrence's dad's cousin and her husband were also there.  It was really neat to see extra friends and family there, even if they didn't really know the significance of the day for us.

5.  Last, but certainly not least, we purchased gifts that we would have given Ethne and donated them
to the Road Home in Salt Lake.  I probably should have planned a little better as this didn't go over quite the way I had hoped for it to, but it was good nonetheless.  We purchased an outfit, a couple toys, and also took a bracelet set.  We hope that the girl(s) who receive these items can feel as loved and as special as Ethne is to us.

We took our boys along with us on all of these projects, except for the temple, and I hope that they can see us serving others and learn to serve as well.  We did make sure that Mr. E knew we were going to the temple and why we were going, he really wanted to go with us so we promised him that he could go when he is older and that we would take him to walk around the temple soon.

One last note:  I cannot take full credit for this challenge.  Several months ago my mom saw someone ask for acts of service for their birthday.  She called me and suggested that we try the same kind of thing for Ethne's birthday.  I'll admit that I had been thinking about our family doing service on her birthday this year, but I hadn't thought about inviting others to join us.  So I just have to say thank you to my mom for the suggestion, it really turned out well!

P.S. This is an official heads up, start planning 6 acts of service for next year.

Bottle Them Up

The BFG gathers dreams

Today was a wonderful day.  I got a lot done that I needed to get done.  It may not look like it from the outside, but I promise I did.  This morning started a little crazy with my brother coming over and a meeting for a small job (THANK YOU to the wonderful neighbor who took on three crazy boys for me!!).  Then it was a nap for Baby J and I had plans to do laundry and clean.

But Mr. E had other plans.  I had to complete a few things for the small job so I sat with Mr. E and did them.  While I worked he snuggled up next to me and pulled up a blanket.  I was sold.  A movie came on the Disney channel so we snuggled.  Mr. E told me that he likes mommy snuggle time, so we snuggled some more.  Lunch time came and I thought about feeding my boy, but I didn't want to ruin the moment.  It got to be a little late, so I started to get up, only to find that Mr. E had fallen asleep.  Now I really didn't want to move.


Then I heard noises coming from upstairs.  J was waking up.  I soaked up just a little bit more of the sweet, sleepy snuggles from my big boy (snapped a selfie), then pried myself away.  Baby J and I had some rare alone time while Mr. E snoozed.

I did eventually feed Mr. E, then we ran a couple errands.  J had another nap when we got home and Mr. E begged for more snuggles.  Who was I to turn that down?

I had to cut the snuggles short and make dinner.  I got three freezer meals made, plus dinner for tonight.  Usually Mr. E is under foot while I cook, but tonight he let me do what I needed to do and even helped a little when I asked.

After dinner we played and watched Dancing with the Stars (all three of us).  Then we had the easiest and most cooperative bed time we have had in weeks.  I don't think I yelled, lost my cool, or got overly frustrated once the entire day.  I may not have gotten the laundry all done, or my kitchen cleaned, but I am certain that I got everything done that I really needed to.  It was like my boys knew that tomorrow is going to be a tough day and they wanted to make it a little easier.

I just wish I could take days like today and bottle them up.  I wish I could store them on a shelf so that, on the really hard days, I could open them up and be reminded of just how sweet it is to be loved by the precious gifts that are my children.  I wish I could open bottles of days with Ethne so I could feel her squishy little self, smell her sweet smell, her her beautiful laugh, and watch her goofy run.  I wish I had bottles of all the best days to remind me of the things I have to look forward to.  I wish I had bottles, so that when I'm old and my memory starts to fail I won't ever forget the most precious times.

I am so thankful for the blessings of each of my children and especially grateful for days like today.

At the end of the day

At the end of the day I am tired and usually at the end of my rope-- patience is running low, children are cranky and uncooperative, dishes are piled up in the sink, and often Lawrence isn't home to help (managing retail often calls for unfortunate working hours).  But, somehow this is my favorite time of the day.

Mr. E Starts by picking up his toys while I pick up after Baby J.  Then the real battle begins, it's a fight to get him to go potty, a fight to get him up to his room, a fight to get him to take his clothes off, pick pajamas, etc., etc.  Sometimes I get a little short with him while we battle about these rather insignificant details, but after the battle comes the part that always makes up for it.  After Mr. E has taken care of his hygiene, changed into jammies, and has settled down a little from the day we sit in a rocking chair and read a story.  This is our time-- just Mommy and Mr. E.  Usually we read Curious George, sometimes it's a Junior story, or something else.  He snuggles his little red head into my shoulder, grabs a fistful of hair, and we read.  I often stop to ask about colors, shapes, numbers, animals, or other details (mostly in the pictures).  He answers my questions and also points out details he likes, as well as asks questions.  After his story Mr. E says his prayer, then crawls jumps into his stuffed animal filled bed.  Then we sing.  He gets 5 songs.  Nearly every night he chooses "I am a Child of God," "I Often go Walking," "Families Can be Together Forever," and some theme song from "Phineas and Ferb," there's rarely any variation.  Sometimes he sings along, but most the time he is content to let me do all the singing.  The last part of the night is even better than the rest of it combined.  This is when Mr. E climbs into my lap, wraps his arms around my neck and I sing "A Bushel and a Peck."  He gives me  an excellent hug, a kiss (on the lips), Tells me that he loves me, then climbs back into his bed as I turn out the light.

Once Mr. E is read to, sung to, and "in bed" it's Baby J's turn.  He doesn't put up a fight (yet).  He gets a new diaper, jammies, and some warm milk, then I also read to him.  His stories are much shorter and he doesn't hold still as well, but he also tends to grab a fistful of hair.  There are no questions and answers-- instead there's wrestling the book away from grabby hands that just want to pull it into his mouth.  Then we sing too.  Baby J only gets one or two songs and, you guessed it, "Bushel and a Peck" is always on the list.  We rock, snuggle, and I sing into his ear (which often makes him giggle),   then I kiss him about a dozen times, put him in his bed, and turn out the light.

Some nights I cry.  Every night I revel in the fact that I have been blessed with another day with these sweet, rambunctious, and smart boys.  Every night I take time to thank my Father in Heaven for the blessing of my boys and of the day we have had, and to ask for more days to spend with my Mr. E and Baby J.  I treasure this time I get to spend, one on one with each of my boys.  I am reminded of how special they are and this is the perfect ending to each of my not so perfect days.  No matter how frustrating, busy, productive or unproductive the day, at the end of it I am always grateful that it happened.

Do you remember?

Mr. E, do you remember Ethne?  Do you remember how she used to ask to hold you?  Do you remember playing peek-a-boo and tickles with her, and the way you would smile and giggle at her?  Do you remember how she would help you with your binki when you'd cry, or how she'd play "this little pig" with you?  Do you remember splashing in the tub with her or snuggling in her bed while daddy read you both stories?  Do you remember her coming to see you in the hospital, the way she let us lay you on her lap while she ate pretzels?  Do you remember?

I do, but you probably don't.

In His time

Apparently I have to keep learning this lesson, that things I want/need happen in the Lord's time and not necessarily in my time.

After high school and upon starting college I was anxious to get married and start a family of my own.  I dated quite a bit and was even engaged at one time, but that didn't work out and I was incredibly disappointed at the time.  But had that worked out I wouldn't have met Lawrence and we wouldn't have the beautiful family we have now.  Marriage didn't work out exactly when I wanted it to, but when I needed it to, and with the person that I need(ed) in my life.  The Lord knew this even though I didn't.  I am beyond grateful for Lawrence and our temple marriage.  He is a hard working provider, a wonderful father, and my best friend.

G and I wrestling

Growing up I was happy with my one brother, but I always thought it would have been fun to have more siblings.  My parents considered adoption when I was younger, but it never felt right to them.  It was finally right when I was a junior in high school and about 18 months later our family was blessed with my brother G.  He is such a great example to my kids and a really proud uncle.  Then they did foster care and went through a handful of children who were eventually reunited with their biological families until I came into our lives.  He is a happy, busy (super, extra busy) boy who fits right in and loves my babies too.  I is also a little younger than Ethne and I'm sure my parents had always thought that their kids would be older than their grandkids, but both Ethne and I joined our family when they were meant to.

When I was pregnant with Ethne my mom found out that she had a tumor on her pituitary gland and would have to have it removed.  Travel was difficult, she was sick, and I was scared and a little helpless to do anything for her.  Ethne was born four days before her due date.  This allowed my parents to come see her and us to visit my parents for Thanksgiving, before my mom had to have her surgery.  It was such a blessing to me to be able to see my mom and for my baby to meet her Grandma.  My mom is fine now and the tumor was benign, but that was a scary time for all of us.  Ethne's birth allowed us time together and gave us something else to think about when we were all consumed with worry about my mom.

Through my entire pregnancy with Baby J I was certain he would come early.  Both my other two were early, so this boded well for me.  I was determined that he would be born before Christmas.  The last month or so I was done.  I was tired, sore, big, and beyond ready to have this baby.  It had been the most difficult of my three pregnancies with some morning sickness, soreness that I hadn't had before, and I was also battling with emotions that I hadn't experienced before.  I prayed that he would come so I could be more comfortable and have less pain.  So when contractions started coming pretty regularly on Dec. 21 I was thrilled.  But it wasn't to be.  After going to the hospital twice in 24 hours only to make very little progress and have the contractions stop, my hopes were dashed all over the floor.  Little did I know that this was a blessing in disguise.  Five days later, on the 26, my water broke and the contractions were unmistakable, Baby J made his entrance.  I was excited to spend as little time in the hospital as possible and take my late Christmas present home to his brother.  But you know how well that worked out.  Again, I was beyond disappointed that my baby was sick and wouldn't be coming home on my schedule.  It was also frustrating to sit around the hospital and wait for the holiday lag to pass so we could get tests done and find out results so we could know what was wrong with our baby.  Had Baby J been born much earlier we would be paying a lot more for his surgeries and hospital stays, also if he had been diagnosed sooner.  Our insurance last year wasn't the best, but it covered enough for the last 4 days of last year that we weren't left with too many out of pocket expenses.  Our insurance that kicked in on January 1 had a reasonable deductible and not too bad of an out of pocket max (both of which we have met).  Had Baby J been diagnosed sooner the other insurance had a higher deductible and no OOPM.  While it meant that I was uncomfortable a few days longer than I really wanted to be Baby J came just when the Lord needed him to come.  Even though there have been a lot of bumps along the way, I'm glad he came when he did and thankful that someone who can see the grand scheme of things knew when his arrival would be best for our family.

I'm sure that I will continue to be taught this lesson, and I will continue to look for the blessings that come from things happening in the Lord's time and not always in mine.

(Ir)rational

As we grow and learn in this world we often develop likes and dislikes.  Often these likes and dislikes stem from strong emotions regarding the subject.  For example:  from the time I was about 3 years old I wanted to play the flute.  That's a pretty young age to want something so specific, but I associated the flute with my (then) favorite Aunt, Debbie, and I wanted to be just like her.  Now I play the flute, studied it in college, and teach it to other aspiring musicians-- I still associate it with my Aunt.  Along with these likes and dislikes we often develop fears.  These fears are also usually tied to strong emotions.


About 4 or 5months after the accident I was home alone with Mr. E.  He was napping and I was engaged in some household chore or another.  We were living in an apartment that was part of a large complex.  Suddenly the quiet afternoon was interrupted by the rapid thump-thump-thump sound that only the spinning blades of a helicopter make.  I couldn't help it, I started hyperventilating and crying, the sound was so close.  I looked out my bedroom window and saw the helicopter coming closer and it was obvious it was landing near my apartment.  Then I noticed the life flight emblem.  My breathing and crying became more frantic.  Despite my belief that you should never wake a sleeping baby, I ran to Mr. E's room and pulled him from his crib.  I remember repeatedly saying "they can't take my baby, he's mine, you can't take him."   After several minutes of crying, and shouting at the helicopter that couldn't hear me, and rocking my now upset baby, the logical part of my brain took over and I called Lawrence (I think he was at work) three times in a row-- our signal that something is wrong.  He called me back talked a little sense into me and told me to call my parents.  I finally called my mom and she came and picked us up.  I'm pretty sure I was still hysterical when she got there, even though the helicopter was already gone.  Shortly after arriving at my parents' house I was able to calm down and the whole incident seemed a bit irrational to me.  I was so terrified that the helicopter was going to take my baby away and I wouldn't see him alive again.  But really, how irrational was it?

Even though I don't clearly remember the events immediately following the accident, and I certainly don't remember the helicopter taking Ethne away, that is what happened.  I remember my little girl, alive and trying to open a container of yogurt in the back seat, then I remember snippets of my own helicopter ride, then waking up in the hospital knowing that she was gone.  The helicopter took her and I never saw her alive again.  I still have problems with helicopters.  It doesn't matter if they are life flight or not, I have a small panic attack whenever I hear a helicopter close by.  It used to be worse, but since we moved we hear them flying over our house more often than we used to, so the panic has decreased some.  The logical part of my brain still realizes that panicking every time I hear a helicopter isn't exactly rational, but I can't help it.

Another fear that triggers a bad reaction is cement trucks.  Again, I don't remember the truck hitting the car, but they still frighten me and especially when I am driving.  This can be a problem since I live in Utah and there is always road construction and therefore a fair amount of cement trucks on the road.  I have learned to deal when they are far away, but I really panic if there is one right by me (in front, behind, or on either side).  I have learned to pull over when possible to avoid being too close to a cement truck, but when it's not possible I have to talk myself through and will often drive slowly to allow myself some space from the cement truck.  The latter solution may anger some other drivers, but it's far safer than me having a full on panic attack while driving.

Unfortunately this accident left me permanently scarred, both physically, mentally, and emotionally.  But I am learning to live with all my scars.

Memorial Day 2014

This Memorial Day has left me a little more reflective than others have.  Just under a week ago my grandfather passed away and his funeral is tomorrow.  While I haven't had the best relationship with him in a long time, he is still a member of my family and I still care about him.  I hope that he has found some peace.  I know that he is with many loved ones, including my precious angel.  I know that he is now learning from his mistakes and is being given a chance to repent and make better choices.  I feel that Ethne is helping him do this.

I am trying to teach Mr. E to respect the cemetery and those who rest there, but it's hard to listen and to watch your feet when you are a busy little boy.  He will learn.  For now he gets to pick out flowers and take them to his sister, then run around some (while we try to stop him from running over headstones).






I still love that the cemetery puts up over 100 flags for veterans on this day of remembering.  They are so beautiful and the sound of them waving in the wind is calming and mesmerizing.

This tree was planted in the park next to the cemetery, by my family, for Ethne's 3 birthday, her first after the accident.  It continues to reach up to heaven and reminds us to do the same.  I hope that, no matter where I am, I can always remember this.  I hope that I can always honor those who have gone on before me by carrying on their legacy and can always be found reaching for heaven.

Pensieve

I was watching Harry Potter Deathly Hallows part 2 the other day and I was near the end of the movie when I found myself wishing for something in the movie.  Near the end of the movie Prof. Snape (who is previously made out to be a bad guy) is dying and as he is in his last moments he cries and tells Harry to take his tears to the pensieve.  This pensieve is a magical device where a person can store memories for future viewing, Snape's tears contained memories that he wanted Harry to see.

I wish I had a pensieve.  That way, every time I cry over a memory, good or bad, of my precious 26 months with Ethne I could bottle my tears so I could store my memories and view them whenever I want or need to.  I can write down memories all I want, but they just don't capture moments the same way that watching them over would.  I have videos, but even those don't capture every memory.  I wish I had, but that's why a pensieve would be so good, I could capture everything, every moment, every memory, and save it for future reference.  I would watch every sleepless night of the early weeks, while I rocked and held my brand new baby girl.  I would watch as she ran around with her uncle Gabe and played peek-a-boo with him.  I would watch her discover the joy of splashing water in the bath.  I would watch as she played dress ups, bringing me outfit ofter outfit to help her change.  I would watch as she and Samantha played in the front seat of the cart at Sam's club while Grandpa Stone pushed them through the store.  I would watch every moment over and over, but it still wouldn't be the same.

I would see ghosts of the past.  I might experience some of the same feelings and emotions, but there would be none of the physical interaction.  I wouldn't get to feel the sweet hugs I long for.  I wouldn't get to issue the tickles that elicited happy giggles.  So, while I think a pensieve would be great, it wouldn't compare to the real thing.  I wait for the day when I will get the real thing, when I will be greeted with the biggest, sweetest hug any mommy has ever known, when I will get to tickle her until she wets her pants.  I pray that the day when I get to have these experiences again will come quickly.