Dresser Drawer | Infant Loss Awareness

Dresser Drawer...

Bathed in soft light,

You left us to greet angels above.

I watched as your soul gently left your tiny body,

Wishing I could hold on to you just a little while longer.

Soft plucking of harp strings

Welcomes you to the golden light

of God's loving embrace.

Family greets you with smiles and love,

Pain and tears are all wiped away,

And you are encircled and join in a symphony of praising your Father in heaven.

I tell you I love you one last time...

I whisper in your tiny ear, "I'll be there soon." 

Tears thicken in my shattered heart.

I gather everything you've touched,

Wanting to bottle up this feeling so I can have it forever.

No more will I see your face.

No more will my heart be full.

All I have is a drawer...

Filled with mementos that aren't worthy of remembering you by.

Every kiss I placed on your head haunts me. 

Your soft skin against my cheek is all I long for.

All I have are your ashes and a few fleeting memories...

Until I am greeted with the light of your embrace,

When I make my home, up in the sky,  just like you did...

All I have is my baby in the dresser drawer...

I wear a coat of angels' breath and warm myself with His love. 

~Terri Guillemets

A Social Network Christmas | The REASON for the SEASON

You Never Know | Infant Loss

" Only one who has been washed in the blood of the Lamb

can both weep and laugh at the same time, and with hearts

that are breaking in pieces scattered all over the floor say

with sincerity and honesty that it is well with my soul..."

- Gary J. Oliver

Time and time again I am shocked by my encounters with strangers who have no regard for others. I'm a realist, striving to be an optimist in this crazy world, but more and more reality smacks me in the face. Yesterday just reaffirms my anguish in yet another series of ridiculous events that cause deep wounds in my already broken heart. 

I value myself as a decent parent, one who disciplines appropriately and follows through with consequences. So, when I am confronted by a store clerk about my parenting skills I am a little taken a-back. To give you a rough idea of the scene, my husband and I were choosing new glasses at the optometrist. This process was taking far too long, as this un-efficent clerk was taking her sweet time. I did my best to keep my three year old daughter occupied with games on my iphone, showing her different items int he store, etc, but, after being patient for over an hour, she was starting to get bored and rambunctious. I quietly took her out of the store multiple times to calm her down and let her know that we were in a store and that we needed to be quiet and patient. After the longest hour of my life, my hubby was finally able to take our daughter to another part of the store while I finished up the transaction. As soon as they left, this woman politely informed me with the following: 

"Is she always that hyperactive? You know, I raised many kids, even crack babies, and let me tell you, behavior like your daughters just gets worse with age. You really need to think about your parenting. Maybe if she wasn't an only child, she would behave better..."

As I gaged on my words and anger searing through my brain all I could think of was WOW. Is this today's world? A world in which a laughing child in a store could cause such a problem for another parent? A world in which customer service consists of telling strangers they are bad parents? 

"If God hides the reason for His works from us, and it is too high

for us to reach, let us shut our mouths;... let us glorify God and

not be ashamed to be ignorant. The true wisdom of the faithful is

to know no more than it has pleased God to show them."

- John Calvin

Lucky for her, I am a Christian woman. So I prayed for patience, quietly took the brunt force trauma to my ego, paid and left. I left the store feeling an inch tall. Not only am I a bad parent, but even worse because I only have one living child. I could have informed her that I have 2 children, that my son lives in Heaven. I could have told her to F-Off, or mind her business, but I didn't. I just prayed and took up my "Cross" yet again. 

"He (the Christian believer) can say, "If I should lose all I have, it is better

that I should lose than have if God so wills: 

the worst calamity is the wisest and the kindest thing that could befall me if God ordains it." 

"We know that all things work together for good to them that love God."

-Charles Spurgeon

I left the store and headed to find my husband and daughter. Rattled by this encounter I started into an emotional downward spiral. Luckily we were headed to church, and I found hope and comfort in realizing clarity I am blessed with and that despite others opinions, I am proud of where I am today as a parent and a person. I just pray that the next time my daughter who tests off the charts for her age is compared to a crack baby, I'll be able to keep my cool. I really don't want to be forced to pull the "I have a dead baby" card, but I am getting close to the end of my rope.

"The only right attitude towards suffering is worship,

or humble self-surrender."

-John R. W. Stott

2011, you can't arrive quickly enough!! 

This is my comfort in my affliction,

that Your Word has revived me.

- Psalm 119:50

Christmas Reflections....

As Christmas quickly approaches, I'm yet again distracted that my little man is not with us. His stocking hangs lovingly placed between ours, reminding us that he should be here. I fight the urge to buy a small gift for him; what would I do with it? I sit, broken hearted, watching in awe as Nevaeh discovers more wonders of Christmas, longing for Leo to be next to her, experiencing it all as well. My heart aches knowing I will never have these memories with him. 


I find myself reminiscing over the days I had with Leo. I've struggled significantly in moving forward as any mother would. I have had to defend my son's existence to far too many people who are close to me. That alone causes scars that are much deeper than those of loosing a child. This gapping hole I wear in my heart, aches with a longing I can't describe. 


And so, we are at a cross roads, trying to get pregnant again. All I can think of is that this next baby won't replace Leo. That I still will have a hole in my world, where he should be. We never forget our children.. they are part of our very souls. 


God has also placed Kenya on my heart. I'm being led towards adopting from Kenya in addition to having another biological child. As I sit imagining bringing home a child from Kenya, I am brought to tears. This is so heavy on my heart I feel as though I might explode. I know this is years down the line. Please keep us in your prayers and we explore this incredible journey into international adoption and trying to get pregnant again. We have faith that things will work out, and are so thankful for the support we've gained from so many others.

©Micah Albert 

This Christmas, 

Hold your precious little ones...

Savor their gleaming eyes as they absorb Christmas wonders.

Capture moments today, 

because you never know what those memories could mean...

Remember those in need this Christmas,

and bless others as you have been blessed. 

Kiss the cheeks of those you love and 

take a moment to hug a little longer this Christmas....

Walk to Remember | Infant and Pregnancy Loss Awareness

Sunday was the 7th annual Walk to Remember held in Longview. This event brings awareness to infant and pregnancy loss and gives grieving parents a safe place to share their stories and remember the little ones we've lost. 

I was nervous heading into this event, as I didn't know what to expect. I was concerned this event wasn't going to meet my expectations and that instead of being healing, it would depress us further. I am so glad we went and that my expectations were exceeded. Many people don't understand my concern over the event, so allow me to explain. I don't get to plan a 1st birthday, or see my son crawl for the first time, of hear him say "mama". All I have are events like these to outwardly express my love for him in a public setting. My fear was that this event wouldn't be nice enough to do my son justice. That may sound strange, but this has been an issue from the start for me. I remember when Leo was born and I was so mad that I didn't have a blanket worthy enough to wrap him in. I reluctantly took the hand crocheted blanket donate to the NICU from the nurse to wrap him in after he passed. I came home with empty arms, feeling like a horrible mother for not having something nice enough to clothe him in at the hospital. I clutched a blue blanket I bought on clearance thinking, "If only I had known, I would have bought something worthy!"

It is strange the things that bother us in times such as these, but I was pleasantly surprised to be surrounded by other parents who understand the type of grief we are coping with. I felt part of something, part of a group who has seen some of the hardest times and have pulled through together. 

More and more often I feel left behind these days. Just about every friend I have has been blessed with 2 living children, and I feel left in the dust being the odd-ball so to speak. I'm desperately trying to move forward from these feelings, but it is a hard thing to swallow. My longing for my son is more than I can describe. Being able to attend events like these really helps me to find my place in this new world I have been thrown into.

This poem by Elizabeth Dent completely captures how I feel:

Go ahead and mention my child.

The one that died, you know.

Don't worry about hurting me further.

The depth of my pain doesn't show.

Don't worry about making me cry. I'm already crying inside.

Help me to heal by releasing

The tears that I try to hide.

Im hurt when you just keep silent,

Pretending he didn't exist.

I'd rather you mention my child,

Knowing that he has been missed.

You asked me how I was doing.

I say "pretty good" or "fine".

But healing is something ongoging.

I feel it will take a lifetime.  

Here are some pictures from this year's Walk to Remember. 

We all got to light a candle in honor of the child we lost.

you are everywhere little man | advocate for pragnancy and infant loss

Let's just say that since loosing my little man a little over a year ago, my body has been a wreck. Physically a wreck. Between the sudden drop in hormones from an emergency c-section, to the depression and anxiety of loosing our son, to the pain meds as I healed from surgery, from doing way too much planning a memorial, running a household,  healing from loss, and of course pursuing me photography career.... all these things take a toll. My blood pressure has been border-line high since being pregnant with Nevaeh, so, when it was high during my pregnancy with Leo, we weren't too concerned, since we already had a healthy baby girl and a delivery with no complications. Little did we know that my blood pressure is the most likely cause of our tragedy. Since then, I have been to countless doctors trying to figure out the best course of action.

Today after having a steadily rising high blood-pressure all day and struggling with another anxiety attack I checked my blood pressure at home again to see if I should head to the ER. My blood pressure was 155/95.... not horrible, but not good. So, I packed Nevaeh in the car, with my best " oh mommy is fine, we are going to just go talk to the nice doctor". I urgently called my dad and sister to come meet me, since the last I came to this same ER as a "precaution" it ended in tragedy.

Thanks to the FABULOUS Legacy Salmon Creek Hospital, I waited a mere 10 minutes before I was in a gown having yet another EKG. My blood pressure was up to 166/107. After a dose of anxiety meds and monitoring, my pressure came back down to 134/83 within an hour. Luckily in this world of technology, my ER doctor was able to view every aspect of my records from 6 different doctors. After reviewing all my past workups and issues, he said, " You need to be on blood pressure medication, and should have been for awhile now." FYI this has been my theory all along, but what does a dumb mom who went through a placental abruption know (which are only caused by a) trauma b) cocaine use c) smoking or d) HIGH BLOOD PRESSURE.... DING DING DING Winner Winner Chicken Dinner.

Despite what you all might think, I am happy and relieved to have some answers and a medical plan for what I have been struggling with for years now. I am praying that with close monitoring and medication that I can get my body back to a healthy functioning level soon. It has been a tough road, and I am praying that this is the start of a "new day".

Thanks for all your continued prayers and thoughts of comfort! I love you all!!

HOLY CRAP are my thighs THAT big? Note to Self.... slim thighs.... or.. wear spanks at ALL TIMES..

It is well with my soul...

Remember that day?

Remember that day we thought everything would be fine?

Remember that day we were just being cautious?

The day our whole world changed.

The day we were blessed with a son.

Remember those fleeting moments?

Remember the fear and the pain?

Remember when we held our son as he died in our arms?

Remember how God spared my life and not my son’s?

I remember.

I don't know His plans for me, or what my journey has in store. I have been so blessed in my life... and though I miss my baby boy, I know  “it is good with my soul.”

Philippians 4:6-7 

6Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. 7And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus

Walk to Remember...

My life has changed so much since you passed away. Daily I am reminded that you are not here with me. Longing grips me with such fierce emotions that I can't seem to contain my tears. October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month. A Walk to Remember is being coordinated. It all sucks. My life wasn't supposed to be like this. You are supposed to be in my arms, safe and sound. Instead, I am left with fleeting memories, empty arms, and a sign-up sheet for "remembering lost babies". Life is hard to swallow on days like this. I'm strong, but sad... completely changed, but not broken. 


I miss you sweet baby. All around my friend's babies are turning one in a few months.... a constant reminder of how I've been left behind with ashes. Everything has changed. I would give anything to hold you again. I gaze upon your photographs, remembering every hair on your head, and the depth of your blue eyes. Each day your memory is more poignant in my thoughts. 


Others don't seem to understand; and it makes it all that much worse. Friends complain about having two children, about how hard it is.... I don't think I can take much more. Don't people see how painful it is for me? Don't people realize that sharing their plans for a third child hurts? Why is there a need for others to rub it in my face??!! No one understands... or no one really cares. I'm giving up on trying to be strong and tolerant of others inability to attempt to understand. I don't have it in me anymore. Deep breaths... pain slowly moves in, gripping my heart. Each week brings new problems and new developments. People who once brought comfort, now bring pain and conflict. 


...Lord, give me strength....


I grasp on to what I have... 


...not a chubby baby finger, or a ring of curls, or even a cuddly hug.....


I grasp on to what I have........


....... a registration form for "a walk to remember".... 

One Year... and still you live on....

 

To my son,


One year. One year without you in my life; in my arms. Tears still fall, pain still strickens my core. I walk from one day to the next, aching to ease the subtle grief that never seems to cease from lingering on my heart. Cuddling friend's little ones deepens my longing for you. I miss you. I think think back to the fateful day you were brought into this world, and still wonder why my life was spared and not yours. With every inch of my being I knew what was to come that warm July morning. Oh how terrible, and and comforting to know what was to happen in your final hours. I am blessed to have known you and blessed to have been your mommy, even if for only a little while. I cling to our moments together. The crimson scar I wear is a constant reminder of our short time together; its one of the only things I have. Your sister asks about you often; she wonders when we can bring you home. Swallowing tears is something I am adept to these days, as I remind her where you are. She always smiles and says, "Oh yea mommy, he is sleeping with the angels and the harps." I always wonder if there are harps... she always says it. I wonder what she knows and what she sees. She is my window into your resting place. I still catch glimpses of you in her sleeping face.

July 4, 2010
"I sit on my bed with your box of treasures. Opening the lid, I gaze upon the casts of your hands and feet. I forget how tiny you were in my palms. These tiny casts of your feet illustrate your incredibly small size. Tears fall as I hold the velvet pouch with your ashes. Closing the lid, I breath deep, and put your things back in the drawer. This communion we have, this remembering, is so precious to me."


I cautiously prayed about how to honor you as we approached the one year anniversary of your passing. Suddenly I was struck with the idea to ask others to participate in a name memorial. I wasn't sure what to expect, or if anyone one would be interested in being part of this special project. Boy, was I wrong. For 2 weeks now my inbox has been flooded with heartfelt words of love and encouragement along with images of your precious name captured by strangers who have been touch by the story of your precious life... 


I am inspired by your strength to share and touched by your story, and Leo's.  Thank you so much for sharing. You are amazing! As we were lighting the candles for one of these pictures, we prayed for Leo. Each and every one of those, so precious and unique just like him. I am awed by your strength and your faith. I have now been touched by you and Leo. i can't help but see him in everything. I just want to tell you that I think you have grown into a very strong amazing woman.I love you!! I'm hoping and praying many people come together to celebrate Leo. I LOVE this memorial Kellene, it's beautiful! My first time photographing letters out of things, I have wanted to do that for a long time, so glad this was reason for my first. thank you for allowing me to be a part of something so special.

How incredible God is! How astounding that again this precious story of your life is being used to touch others.

*If you'd like to read about my journey, click here and here to read a few poignant journal entries about those fateful days

Dear Friends,
I am so thankful that God put on my heart to share Leo's story. As I wrote the account of those fateful days, I was hesitant to share the full magnitude of my vulnerability with the world. I am so glad I did! As time has gone on, I realize how many people long to see how faith can change lives, even in the worst of situations. Being used to glorify God through this tragedy is so much more than I could ever have asked for and I am honored to have filled this role.


Thank you for remembering with me. Thank you for sharing in the life of my little boy and for allowing his preciousness to live on. Thank you for walking this journey with me; I am so thankful for you all!

In Memory of My Leo...

"Heaven is the place where he takes my hand, and leads me to You, and we both run into Your arms"

Leo's Memorial Project!! Come and see how you can help!!

Thank you to EVERYONE who has participated in Leo's Memorial Project!! If you'd like to participate, just come up with a creative way to feature Leo's Name, take a picture of it, and email it to: kellene.maynard@gmail.com. Please be sure to include your first name and the city and state you live in.

This project has truly touched my heart, as it allows for my little man to touch the lives of others even after he has been gone almost a full year. If you'd like to read a little bit about our story click here. Thank you all, and I look forward to seeing more submissions!!

Here is what we have received so far!

Come be part of a great thing!!

This month marks the one-year anniversary since our son Leo passed away after being born at 30 weeks due to a placental rupture.  The past year has been a rough journey of both sorrow and faith. As we approach this season of remembering, many of you have asked what we were planning to do to remember Leo. After thinking long and hard, and asking other’s their ideas, I have come up with something everyone can participate in to celebrate his life!!

So, if you’d like to participate, here are the details…. I would like to start a Name Memorial for Leo. Find a creative way to write his name and capture it. You can write it in sand, in a letter, on an object, etc. You can incorporate anything you’d like… flowers, balloons, stuffed animals… be creative and have fun with it! The images will be featured on my blogs in a slideshow for everyone to enjoy.

Email your images to: kellene.maynard@gmail.com Please be sure to include you name and where you are from with your submission!!!

Thank you ALL for participating in remembering our little man with us. Your love and support has brought us through the darkest time in our lives. We love you!!

Missing you...

I search for signs of you

everywhere....

Little ones I see remind me of you.

Silent tears echo in my soul, never ceasing to fall.

Each step is a bittersweet moment 

as I walk through life without you.

I gaze upon your image

Part of you is always with me...

I miss you little man. 

Almost a year has past... how has it been this long already?

Clinging to your memory I will always be...

Mommy misses you little one.

XOXO

Sea Midst and Moments...

Sea midst sprays my face as I gaze upon the sun as it makes it's way
toward the oceans edge. An ember sphere of light casts a golden band
of warmth across the water. Orange light mixes with dazzling blue as
it greets the shore in a sigh. I watch the ebb and flow as water
rushes forward and retreats, pooling among the rocks. Turtles play at
the edge of the reef. Raising their heads, they send smiles my
direction as they quickly dart back under the water as if to play hide
and seek. I watch them in this round of discovery, curiously
wondering what they must be thining. Back along the shore line, three
couples are exchanging vows in the soft light of the evening. Conch
shells call others to join as sacred words are spoken. Under the
umbrella of His creation, we silently inhale the surroundings, hoping
to capture a piece of this scene forever. The sun disappears among the
clouds as its edge lightly grazes the surface of the water. Towering
mountains rise to the heavens, a guide to begining and end. Palm
leaves shutter in the evening breeze. A lullabye of sounds engulf my
ears as I savor the combination of warmth, waves, and wind. Lovers
sit, experiencing new and remembering old. Waves lap at my feet as I
leisurely walk the shores length. Sunlight streams it's way across my
face; it's warmth invites a smile, enveloping me in a firery glow.

Leo; I sketch your name in the sand. It is a race as I attempt to
capture your name before the next wave sweeps it back into the depths
of the sea. Finally, I capture it. This moment freezes in time...
Nothing else matters. For a moment you are here with me. For a moment
all is as it should be. And then, in another instant, it is over. I watch each letter
become erased by sweeping water as it reaches, takes, and retreats
again. Tears fill my eyes as I say goodbye once again. Will the
goodbyes ever end? I feel him with me. The moment overwhelms my
senses. My heart fills my throat, threatening to explode. 
I gaze out as the sun dips low on the horizon. 
The clouds part and glowing orange and pink saturate the sky again.  

Turtles are back to playing, using their limbs to saunter to and fro in the shallow
water surrounding the rocks. They remind me of little ones playing
together without fears or worry. I sigh. I glance behind me to find
newly weds with arms encircled, embracing in this soft light. All is
quiet but the  lapping of waves against our feet. The three couples
are all in white... Like angels floating along waters edge. The depth
of the moment impacts us; even as strangers we recognize the communion
with sky, earth and sea as it creates a clearness of mind.

I stay long after the light is gone; until only a faint glow extends
from the depths of the suns hidden path. I hate leaving. I gather my
things as I step back into the present.  I carry these moments in my
heart as I trek up the beach. My last fleeting glance captures the
light disappearing into utter darkness. It is enough...

Urgent prayer request!!

Please pray for my dear friend Alisha who is currently in the hospital
experiencing pregnacy problems similar to what I went through with
Leo. Her amniotic fluid is very low and baby is behind in weight
development. Please pray for Alisha, baby, and family as they endure
these uncertain times. Pray for the doctors, that God might grant them
the wisdom to make right decisions. Please pray for miracles to
happen, for problems to heal, and for a healthy delivery weeks from now.

Thank you all for your support. Updates will be provided as I am made
aware of the situation.

Blessings to you all!

Kellene Maynard, Photographer
(360)518-6837
www.bellaluciaphotography.com
---------------------------------------------
sent from my iPhone

Missing you...

I'm missing you little one.

Why did things turn out this way? 

So many things cross my mind, and yet I know you are still here with me... in my heart and mind.

I love you so much. 

Every breath I breathe, I feel the tug of my heart strings longing to hold you again.

I patiently wait for the day to hold you in my arms again.

To love you, to see you smile, to see you shining for God.

Know that mommy loves you.

More than ever imaginable.

I miss you my precious boy. 

How has it been 8 months since your last heart beats?

It seems like only yesterday that my worst nightmare became reality.

It was but a moment ago that I held you close and kissed your tiny head. 

I close my eyes and can still feel your silken hair on my lips.

The grip of your tiny fingers on mine warms my heart and makes me sigh. 

I miss you my love.

Mommy loves you so so so so so so much.

Kisses and hugs from mommy....

8 months and counting....

As I journey towards the 8 month mark of loosing you, I am just sad. Heartbroken. Realizing all I dreamed for you is no more. No longer our my thoughts on your future. Daily I am reminded you aren't here with me. I gaze upon your images, longing to hold your preciousness once again. How do I move beyond this loss and back to a reality where "dead baby" isn't blazon all over the world around me? I know you are in Heaven. I know you are where there is no pain and where no suffering exists. I also know you aren't here. The room you were meant to share lacks your presence. I search for the next step in remembering you. I hear of memorial tattoos, quilts, paintings. How can I sum you up with something made by human hands?

I long to find the magic answer to my quest in honoring your precious life. Your memory will forever live on in my heart and soul. My words of love for you will never cease. Forever will my heart be imprinted with your tiny footprints. My heart aches for you. I ache for all the moments we had, and the moments we didn't. No one understands. Most don't even try. How can they not realize, I say... they go about their meaningless lives, never really realizing what they have been blessed with. All they see are those things made by human hands. How lucky am I to see beyond the facade of life... to see into the depths of things that go unseen to so many. How alone am I in these realizations, and yet full of peace I cannot explain... other than it is a gift from Christ.

If God is love, then I know God. From every heartbeat, every hair on your head, every moment, and every gaze. I know Him. Because I know love. Love for another that could move mountains and swallow seas.

I gaze into the mirror, making final adjustments to my painted face... more earthly things. I gaze down at my still swollen form. Monday I had a son. Tuesday I held him as he died. Now it is Saturday, and I am preparing for the next passage of the journey. My black dress offers others a glimpse of my inner emotions. I pin flowers in my hair; it is important to still be myself in the midst of this tragic event. I hold my head high as I take my place at church. Those who I would normally stand for are now showing their respects to me. My Sicilian heart knows these rituals as if I have lived them in another life. I am strong. Everyone looks at me for the next move. As I make my way into the sanctuary, I am comforted with the familiar surroundings. The service is touching, written by myself and our pastor. I ponder how many new roles I have filled in the last 6 short days. Mother, wife, support person, decision maker, daughter, leader, consoler, mourner, writer, composer, photographer, coordinator, mediator, comedian, gardner, patient, teacher, lover, peacemaker... so many shoes to fill in a mere 6 days. Now I am the story teller. I am being called to mark this journey, this memory, on paper.

Some say "write a book". Where do I begin? There could be a book hidden between these many pages and my soul. God has a plan for this story. His hands will guide me and He will always be my refuge. His love is my compass. I wait patiently for His commands. He is my strength. Whom shall I fear?

Connected together with the sinews of love, we are all of One. We love because He first loved us. By His grace we are saved and by His grace we are made new, in perfect love. I know that my life is a mere moment in the fog of eternity. I know that the honor of receiving His love and grace is something so beyond my need for fully understanding. I truly know that God is Love.

I miss you my Leo. But I trust and KNOW that you are loved, and with love, and in the arms of Jesus. If you were here I would hold and cuddle you. I would rock you to sleep singing you a lullaby. I would softly kiss your head and tell you "mommy's here". I would hug you tight and never want to let you go. But I know that in this moment, you are in His arms, praising His name, experiencing His love... what more could I ask for? What could be more comforting than knowing you are in the presence of the His true Love?

Mommy loves you my sweet dear boy... so much. You will always hold my heart.

XX,

Mommy

Thoughts to Ponder....

Lately I have had a lot on my mind... pondering getting pregnant again, fears of the unknown, fears about myself, and about things going on in the world around me. In everything, God has blessed me with clarity. The clarity to see truth in so many situations and the strength to do what is RIGHT. I have always been a person of faith, and a person who stands by their convictions. Time and time again, I sacrifice scores of friendships, popularity, and positions of power in my unwillingness to conform into something I didn't believe in. My moral compass has always been steadfast, and for that I am truly thankful. God has blessed me with such strength and endurance. In Him, I can do all things. Whom shall I fear? Where can I go that He isn't there? 


Since the death of our son, I have taken stock of my life and of my decisions. I may have missed out on some opportunities in my youth, but I know that in doing so I have pleased my Father. I can no longer stand back and be subject to behavior against my own moral compass, against what God has commanded of me. Who am I to question His commands? I have dealt with much pain and suffering these past 5 years; but in pain, we are taught so much. It is when we are suffering that we are closest to God and the most receptive to his love and commands for our lives. Despite what I have endured, I see what good has come of it all. I am so strong, through Christ who strengthens me. I am so blessed.


I don't know my whole purpose for my time here on earth. I do know that I am to do what God commands of me. I do know that I am to love and to stand by what I know to be right in Him. I know that I am meant to teach my children the ways of our Lord. I know I am meant to bring His light to the world around me. Through my photography, my writing, my love, my faith and endurance, through my example, I am to be His servant and His hands and feet. I am honored in the ways He has chosen to use me, and I pray that He continues to do so. 


I have been blessed with so many people throughout this journey of mine. The ones who stand out are the ones of faith. I have recently been united with those of my past... all of whom know Him. Isn't it incredible how God places people in our lives years before their impact on your heart will be felt? Time and time again I am astounded by His love and grace and the intricacies of His plans. 


I am so thankful for this love, so thankful that someone as lowly as myself, has been blessed with His grace.


Dear Lord,


Your love is enough. You know. I believe, help my unbelief. Help me to trust in You always, and in all things. Help me to keep my eyes on You. Help me to love you with a purer, deeper, all encompassing love. Help me Lord to prepare, for what You've already prepared for me. Lord, make me a blessing to others. Use me for Your works... May Your will be done. Help me to see my life as you see it. Thank you for your un-ending love and grace. Thank you for all the blessings you have bestowed on me. You know my heart... it is enough. Thank you...


In Jesus name, Amen.

Calming the Storm...

As I slowly prepare myself for my next adventure in pregnancy, I am attempting to get all the information I need to be "okay" with what might be coming my way. I have prayed and thought about things long and hard, and I know for sure that I want another child. My fears lie within my 1 in 8 odds of having another placental abruption.

Not only is this a risk for our next baby, but also a risk to my own life as well.  I keep thinking about my daughter Nevaeh and my husband, and my family. I am trying to trust God with this. It is very hard to control my anxiety on this subject. 

I have to keep reminding myself that God spared my life during my abruption with Leo. 

I know that He is by my side always. 

I am debating about getting 2nd opinions about my risks. I love my OB, but I can't help but want to have a few other opinions before I embark on this adventure. 

We can't start trying until July. July will be the 1 year mark since we lost Leo and since my emergency c-section. Ready or not, I know that there probably will never be a time that I would truly be ready and "care-free". I know I have to keep my focus on Him and my eyes on HOPE.

I can't imagine going through what we did again; and yet, I know that I could endure it again if I had to. I have made it through Leo's loss with more strength than I ever realized I had. 

God has been my Rock and Salvation.

I know He will continue to be... I have to put my FULL TRUST in HIM.

I know that though my time with Leo wasn't what I expected, I wouldn't have traded what we did have. I couldn't keep his tiny form alive, but I did get to know him for a few precious hours.

And those hours, those moments were such a BLESSING! And though I walked away with empty arms and a broken heart, I know I will be with Leo again one day. 

I still want a baby; more than ever. I still want Nevaeh to have a living sibling to grow up with. 

So, I'm praying. 

Praying for Peace, Strength, and easing of my Anxious Heart. 

Praying that He might prepare me for whatever I might be meant to endure on this adventure.

Praying that He will help me to take deep breaths and TRUST IN HIM.

Giving back....

My experience of loosing my son has truly changed me; not just the loss of his life, but the entire experience from his conception to his final heartbeats. Each moment was a blessing, part of God's journey for my life and my family. My journey with Leo was marked heavily with spectacular people, who've left huge imprints on my heart and soul. Despite the tragedy of loosing my precious son, I have been touched by so many. From doctors who cared, to friends who "showed up", to strangers who prayed, to nurses who cried with us; they all have walked part of this journey with us.


A group who really touched my life was the team in NICU at Legacy Salmon Creek Hospital. This group of "angels" created an environment in the midst of chaos, fear, and pain so profound, so enveloping, so peaceful. I couldn't have asked for a better group of people. Nurses who cared, who knew our names, remembered things that normally would be forgotten. Nurses who watched our son's fleeting, final heart beats, and were there to wipe away our tears. Neonatologists who gave us Leo's grim news through tear stricken eyes. These people care. They walk the journey with parents as they endure some of the most difficult events in their lives. These amazing people in NICU are truly His hands and feet. 


When I first entered my son's private NICU room (Legacy Salmon Creek is one of the only hospital that provides private rooms in NICU) I was greeted with personal touches that struck me to my core. Within mere hours of his birth, there were already scrapbook pages gracing the walls of his NICU room. Leo's image was already captured and placed on these pages with love. The volunteer harp player who came to serenade us in Leo's final hours brought so much peace to our aching hearts. Each strum of her strings melted away the fears, and ushered in God's loving arms. Prayers said by both the Chaplain and our own pastors and grief counselors were those that will always be remembered. And after Leo had passed, the tender loving care these NICU nurses gave him was almost unfathomable. We were provided with a special blanket for him, a gown that fit his tiny form, and even the preciousness of having his hands and feet cast. We walked away from his NICU room, knowing that he was in "good" hands, with a box of memories to last us a lifetime. Even the day after his passing, when we said our goodbyes one last time, we were given the care, hope, and comfort we needed to get through those fleeting moments of "goodbye".


I didn't get to leave the hospital that day with a baby in my arms. I didn't leave the hospital with celebration balloons or burp cloths strewn over my shoulder. I left with a box of memories. Memories that wouldn't be created without the help of this amazing group from NICU. 


Recently, I have wanted to give back to these "angels". My grandmother made special blankets to donate to the NICU. I wasn't ready to make a trip back to the NICU, so she asked me if there was anything special I would like her to bring as well. I thought about it, and was struck with the idea to give the NICU my 4x6 photo printer. I had only used it once, and it had sat in a drawer for over a year. I also added to the bag some scrap-booking supplies as well. I typed up a short note stating these were donations in memory of my son, and then was done. 


Later that week she brought these donations to the NICU. Two nurses came out with happy smiles, in awe of the gifts that were brought. As they looked into the bag, they gasped. One looked up and said "we literally just printed our last picture on our photo printer and then it died." Talk about an "Only God" moment. I assumed my miniscule attempt at donating would be an ordinary thing... and yet it was more momentous that I anticipated. When my grandma shared the news of what happened, my heart was touched and changed once again. 


Last week I went out and bought a whole bag full of scrap-booking supplies. This time I delivered them myself. As Nevaeh and I made our way down the skybridge to the main floor of the hospital she asked, "Are we going to see my baby Leo?" My heart broke as I tried to explain to her that he was only at the hospital for a little while, and that he lives in Heaven. She looked up at me with wide eye's and said, " Oh yea, with Jesus." Than in the next breath she said, "Are we going to pick up my sister?" Silence.... crickets.... Nevaeh knows something that I don't about the future... about my journey. 


As I made my way to the 4th floor, a peace came over me that was unexpected. I assumed I would have feelings of anxiousness, and yet, I felt peace. Fancy that would you? As I handed another smiling NICU nurse my donation, she asked me if the donation was in honor of anything special... and I got to say, "yes, these are being donated in memory of my son, who spent some time here before he passed. I want others to have the same special experience that we did." As Nevaeh and I left, I realized what a huge step I had just made. Such HOPE. Hope for the future, and hope for others who might be in a similar situation. 


I am so thankful for these people who have stamped their love on my heart. Thank you!