Not entirely what you think...

My son starts kindergarten tomorrow. I've had true anxiety about it for weeks. Every time I think about it, my stomach ties itself in knots. I'm not a crier, at all, but I've choked up and cried more times in the last week than normal. You see, it's not just because my son had his last week at daycare, or that he went to meet the teacher, or even that he will start kindergarten in the morning. It's because my BABY had his last week at daycare. My BABY had meet the teacher. My BABY will start kindergarten in the morning. It wasn't supposed to be that way. My big boy was supposed to be starting kindergarten, and my baby was supposed to be going to the sitter's.

It feels wrong, but there are days that I don't think about Aaron. I know it happened, but it doesn't feel like it happened to me. As milestones happen though, like starting kindergarten, it all comes back. The unfairness of last April rears its ugly head.

I know, without a doubt, that my son will be loved. I know, without a doubt, that he will be educated. I also know, that after tomorrow, it will be easy.

For now, though, tomorrow is looming. I'm not sure if it's a positive or a negative that he's at my school. I'll walk him down to his classroom, and then have to put on my smile and greet my new class of 4th graders. I don't get very long to cry. Just like in April, life is going to move on.

So remember, as you see people upset about their child starting kindergarten, or just starting a new year, and they seem a little too emotional, that there may be more to the story than you know.

Cracked Pots

I went on a church women's retreat this weekend. The theme was how we are all cracked pots. I completely related with the speaker we had. Here is my big take-away from the weekend.

In Jeremiah, it says that we are clay vessels (I prefer this instead of pots), made by God, to be filled with God's love. We are the clay, and God is the potter. He works to form and mold us into the perfect vessel for his love. Sometimes its not fun to be poked, prodded, pinched and pulled. It's not fun to be spun on a never-ending wheel. It's certainly not fun to be put into a fiery furnace. Life also pokes, prods, pinched and pulls us. Life doesn't slow down and just keeps going, like the wheel, and we face incredible temptations in the fiery furnace. Eventually, though, we are perfect vessels. God fills us with his love, and puts us on display for the world to see. We are beautiful.

And then Satan comes along and knocks us over. Sometimes we have a small crack, sometimes a little chip falls off. But sometimes we are shattered into millions of pieces. God then picks us up and puts us back together. He uses the glue of family and friends, and even strangers to hold the pieces together. We are never the perfect vessel again.

But now, where there are still tiny cracks, God's love is able to shine through. Instead of just being full of God's love, we are better able to share it with the world. We are even more beautiful with God's love shining through.

For 31 years, God formed me. He poked and prodded, pinched and pulled. He made me a perfect vessel for His love. And then Satan came along and took Aarons's life. He pushed me off that shelf and I shattered into millions of pieces. But God picked all of those pieces up. He used friends, family and strangers to put me back together. Now, through my testimony, and my day-to-day life (and hopefully this blog), His love shines through.

Satan can try to destroy our faith. But each time he does, we only end up with more cracks for God's love to shine through.

"Change my heart O God,
Make it ever true.
Change my heart O God,
May I be like You.

You are the potter,
I am the clay.
Mold me and make me,
This is what I pray.

Change my heart O God,
Make it ever true.
Change my heart O God,
May I be like You."

Don't know what to do...

We went to the cemetery yesterday. I don't know what to do at the cemetery. We get there, get out next to Aaron's marker and just stand there. It's like "Yep, it's still there. Yep, everything is still spelled right." I feel odd talking to him, because he isn't there. He never was. My son is in heaven. I think of, and remember him often.

Every time I see a butterfly, I think of him. It's interesting to note that we saw a butterfly at every place we went this summer. He was there with us everywhere we went. Every time I see a baby, especially one that's about the age he would have been, I think of him. Aaron would have been almost 4 months old. I can't believe it's been that long.

Sometimes it feels like it was just yesterday. I can remember every detail of that morning. Other times it feels like it happened in some alternate universe. I don't forget that it happened, but it doesn't feel like it happened to me.

In the past few days, a couple of people that we are not in any way close to (people we knew in college) have told us how much they were thinking of us last spring. It's surprising to me that they even remember to say anything. Aaron's death seems to have affected more people than we even realize. Through the books, he will continue to affect people for the better.

Hug your loved ones. You never know when they might leave you.

Ramblings

I've been on vacation for the last few weeks. First we went and visited my sister-in-law's family, and now we're in Ohio with my extended family. This weekend we celebrated my grandparents' 60th wedding anniversary, and then my other grandmother's 90th birthday. I feel so blessed that we were able to come up here for those two events. Before April 9th, we weren't going to be traveling anywhere this summer. We've now traveled lots (we normally do) and still have another trip to go.

Being here with my extended family has been great. My parents are here, too, so I've seen almost every member of my side of the family in the last few days. We have a family cross stitch hanging at my grandparent's house. It's got everyone's names in a scrabble/cross stitch pattern. Before we got here, my mom added Aaron and Adalyn (my cousin's new baby). While we never really knew him on earth, he still had an identity. God formed him in his image. God knew the number of hairs on his head. He was still my son.

I've been trying to figure out what to put on my "About Me" stuff for the beginning of the school year. I don't want to say that I have just one son, because I don't. I don't want to erase Aaron from our family profile. I don't want to say that I have 2 sons and that one is deceased, because that opens up a Pandora's box with students/parents. I asked a teacher-friend of mine who has also lost a child what she says. She lost a daughter and has a young son. Instead of telling how many children she has, she just says that she enjoys spending time with her husband and son. Maybe I'll come up with something similar.

Today was an interesting day...

Why? Well, first I need to give you some background information. A couple of weeks before we lost Aaron, we adopted a puppy. Crazy, I know, but we did it anyway. We'd been watching for just the right dog to come along, and when it did, we'd adopt it. Abby was that dog. She was about 6 months when we got her, part Jack Russel, Rat Terrier and Beagle. She's crazy. But we loved her immediately, and she loved me. (She loved Marty too, she just liked me more.) The day we lost Aaron, Abby was scheduled to go to the vet to be fixed, have a hernia repaired and possibly have surgery on her leg. My wonderful in-laws took care of her for a few days after her surgery, while we were still in the hospital.

When I came home, Abby came home. I came home empty-handed, without the baby I was supposed to have. (On a side note, it was VERY difficult to get in the car and pull away from the hospital. It was VERY real at that time.) Abby was my baby. All of the days I sat at home by myself, I had Abby to "take care of". And she took care of me. She kept me occupied. She kept me from sleeping all day. She distracted me.

Last week, before we left for our vacation, we took Abby to a Pet Resort. She was going to be boarded there while we were gone, AND attend a doggie boot camp. She desperately needed training, and our traveling during the next few weeks was the perfect time. She'll be there for 6 weeks (now, 5 weeks).

After we left Galveston, we went to my parents' house in Houston for a few days. We then left Noah there for Vacation Bible School at my parents' church. Marty and I spent Monday and Tuesday working around the house without our helpers. We were busy enough that we didn't have time to think about how much we missed our Abby and Noah.

But today, Marty went to work, and I stayed home. I was home alone, without ANYONE to take care of. While that may seem like a dream to some, it left me lost. I had to work very hard not to cave in on myself. I tried not to think about Abby, and I tried even harder not to think about Aaron. And I survived.

I know that Abby was put at that adoption event at Tractor Supply, and Marty happened to notice her as he drove past on the way to Home Depot, for a reason. God knew that I was going to need that puppy. He knew I was going to need someone to care for, and he provided. I survived today because I'm getting better. I'm moving on. God has given me the strength to keep going.


(On a side note, yes, we still have our 10-year-old cat Spaz. He requires nothing, so I don't think about having to "take care" of him.)

Working on being grateful...

My family (husband and son) are currently on a family vacation at the beach. You see, Noah has been asking to go to the beach for months. Originally we weren't going to be able to go, because we would have a newborn. Within hours of losing Aaron, we knew that we HAD to take a family vacation to the beach and began planning. That's how we got here. It's not the fanciest vacation, and definitely not the nicest. But it's just the 3 of us- something we haven't ever done. While sitting on the beach this morning, we saw a butterfly. It was a reminder to us that Aaron is here with us, too.

It was nine weeks ago today that we lost Aaron. In that time period I've had SEVERAL friends have happy, healthy babies. In the next few weeks, several more friends and family members will have happy, healthy babies. It's easy (very easy) to get stuck in a woe-is-me mindset when they post pictures of their beautiful babies. I start to get angry - why do they get to have their babies? Why do they get to hold them, and listen to the scream, and have them fall asleep in their arms? Why didn't I get that? It's not fair. While I'm happy that they have healthy babies, I've chosen not to say anything to them. I quickly scroll past their pictures on Facebook. I avoid conversations in person. I'm working on being happy for them. I really am. The two hardest ones are coming later this month.

One is a friend from college. We've deemed ourselves "pregnancy soulmates" because we were pregnant with our first children together (they were due a few weeks from each other), we both were pregnant and miscarried within a month of each other, and we were due again within a month of each other. Out of three pregnancies she will have 3 children (the first ones were twins). Out of my 3 pregnancies, I have 1. While I am excited for her (I truly am), it still sucks. It's still not fair.

The other is my cousin. She's is having her first child in a few weeks. It will be the second great-grandchild for my grandparents. Again, I'm happy for her, I really am. It's fun to watch first-time parents be excited. But it sucks, and it's not fair. 

Life sometimes sucks. and it's not always fair. But I'm working on being okay with it. I'm working to see the good that comes with the bad. I would NEVER wish what happened to us to happen to anyone else. I'm GLAD that it hasn't happened to any of my other friends and family. Those are things to be grateful for. Seeing a butterfly while sitting on a beach during a vacation that wasn't supposed to be, reminds me that even when life sucks, even when it's not fair, there are things to be grateful for. I'm working on it.

Preschool Graduation

Last night, my son, Noah, graduated from preschool. He will start kindergarten at my school in August. While its an emotional thing anyway, last night was especially hard for me. I dreaded it all day. You see, we've known about this graduation for many months. It was always going to be a week after Aaron was born, and it was going to be my first "outing" with my infant. Of course, I wasn't there with my baby next to me. Instead, my baby was the one graduating. I only have one baby boy instead of two, and he's not much of a baby anymore.

God was there, though. On the way to graduation, I saw my first butterfly. Granted, it was sitting on a trash can, but it was still a butterfly! Then, decorating the door that was right behind where Noah sat for graduation, were butterflies. When I noticed them, I felt a sense of peace. God was there, wrapping me in his arms, telling me that it would be alright. The whole time I watched Noah, I also saw butterflies.

I don't blame God...

This week has been especially difficult for us. Wednesday was supposed to have been my last day of school, and we were supposed to have welcomed Aaron into the world on Friday at noon. Of course, none of that happened.

When we first lost Aaron, we heard from LOTS of people. I mean, LOTS. We were getting cards, books, e-mails, messages, phone calls, etc. on a very regular basis. And then that weaned off. On one hand, I completely understood! Everyone had lives to go back to. They didn't need to think about us all of the time. Their lives hadn't really changed. On the other hand, it made me MAD! My life didn't get to go back to normal. I still had bad days...

Anyway, that's how I felt this week. And then we got some last minute books (more about this later) and messages. Thursday evening, Marty and I were out listening to Adam Hamilton (he writes a lot of our Sunday School curriculum). When we got home, our front yard was full of butterflies. Someone (we now know who!) had showered us with love, right when I/we needed it most!

Often times people say things like "It was meant to be" or "It happened for a reason" in situations like ours. They mean well, but I don't agree. I do NOT believe in a God who plans that involve loss like our's. What I DO believe in, is a God who knew it was going to happen and put so many people and things in place to make sure that we knew we were loved and taken care of. If we had lost Aaron just one day later, Marty wouldn't have been in town. He would have missed the whole thing. Our incredible pastor's son just happened to have a headache in the middle of the night and wake her up. Because of that, she got Marty's phone call, and was able to come to the hospital immediately and be with Marty while I went back for my C-Section. God made sure that he wasn't alone. And really, through all of this, we've never been alone. In my lowest points, someone has sent me a text saying they were thinking/praying for me. Or books have showed up on the front porch.

God can take our pain and suffering and show us the good, the blessings, and even the joys, if we choose to look for them. We decided very early after we lost Aaron that instead of flowers we wanted people to donate new books. We were going to collect them and take them to a local children's hospital that our older son had "visited" a couple of times. I honestly didn't think we would get 100 books. On Friday, the day Aaron was scheduled to be born, my family donated 324 brand new books to the hospital. 324. That's 324 kids who will be given a book in their time of need. 324 kids who will smile because of our friends and family. Marty and I didn't purchase a single of one those books. And we still have money that was donated for us to buy books. Some of that will be used to purchase magazine subscriptions for the hospital. The rest will be saved until next year, when we do it all over again. You can't tell me that God wasn't at work in that.

I don't blame God for the awful things that happened to us. I blame God for the amazing things that have come out of it.

The end and the beginning

Everything changed for my family at about 12:05am on April 9, 2014. I woke up at midnight to roll over. At 32 weeks pregnant, this happened several times every night. Before I fell back asleep, though, I felt like something was wrong. I rushed to the bathroom as a large gush of blood escaped my body. I woke Marty up, and within an hour we were headed to the hospital. We were under the impression that our precious baby boy would be joining our family earlier than planned. We were wrong.

 Upon getting to the hospital, 4 nurses, 2 doctors and 2 sonograms spent an hour trying to find a heartbeat. Finally, we accepted the truth. Our baby was gone. Within an hour and a half, I was headed back for a C-Section to remove the lifeless body from mine. It all happened so fast, I don't think it really sank in.

Later that morning, we decided to hold our baby boy and spend some time with him. Before this, I thought it would be crazy to want to hold a dead body. But I'm glad we did it. I'm also grateful that there is a great organization called Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep that takes professional pictures of babies in our similar situation. We will cherish these pictures forever.

We spent the next several days planning a funeral and trying to come to terms with the abrupt change in plans that had been dealt to us. No parent should ever have to bury their child, especially one whom they never got to meet. I don't know what color his eyes were, or whether he was a daredevil. I only knew what he felt like inside of me. Marty and Noah will never know him.

A friend of mine gave me some excellent advice that I think about every day. She told me that sometimes, all you can say is "This sucks" and it just does. It's not fair. We will probably never know the reason our precious Aaron Jacob was taken from us way too early. It just sucks.