This blog has become my therapy in a way, so if you are still reading and you enjoy it, feel free to continue, but for me, it has become my way to deal with my emotions and thoughts surrounding losing my child.
That being said, I don't think my post this evening is going to be very uplifting. I had two difficult realizations today. The first was this morning. It hit me all of a sudden that it was Sunday morning, which is when we lost Sam. So far, every Sunday morning has been hard because I see the clock and think about where we were and what we were doing 4 weeks ago. Has it already been a month? Has it only been a month?
The other hard realization happened when I saw a pregnant friend's picture through facebook. It hit me that I would start my third trimester this week. I should be going into that uncomfortably big stage. Instead, my body is already healed from delivering my child. It is crazy when I think that I should still be pregnant, anticipating meeting my first child, because I have traveled a long road since the last day I was pregnant.
Milestones and anniversaries are difficult. This was not a big one, but still brought up difficult emotions. Most of the time, I go from thing to thing in my life and I'm ok, but today I hurt. The only comfort I have is knowing the One who holds me up in my weakness and my pain is holding my Sam in His arms.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Thursday, January 27, 2011
A time to rest
In the two months before Sam came, I cannot believe how busy I was. When I look back now, I don't know how I got through some of those weeks. The semester was in full swing, so with 80+ students, I was busy just keeping up with my classes. On top of that, I had play rehearsal everyday after school for two hours. By the time I got home and ate something, I would be ready to go to bed, much less grade papers, think about props and costumes, or spend time with my husband. AND I was pregnant. I kept wishing during that time that I could have time to do things I wanted to do, like read for long periods of time, watch movies, and sew things for my baby.
To say the least, God answered my unspoken prayer. I am going back to work next week and my time at home is almost over, but I have had more than enough time to rest and let go of all the stress in my life. I have read several books, watched lots of movies, played Wii, cleaned, printed and framed pictures, and more. At first when people would ask if I was working, I would tell them, "I'm taking some time off so I can...." and then I didn't know how to fill in the blank. I didn't really know why I was staying home, I just knew it was a good idea.
I have realized that this time away from a normal routine has allowed me to slow down and have time to think and reflect. I think this will help me process everything in the long run, instead of ignoring my grief until it sneaks up and hits me like a brick wall. I have been able to think about, talk about, and write about my pain so I can deal with it a little bit at a time. However, I still have moments where there are small explosions of hurt inside. Sometimes they are triggered by something I see or hear, but most of the time they are random. I just finished reading a book by a grieving mother who said she would never get over the loss of her child, but she would get through it. I am so grateful for this time off because it has allowed me to start wading through this sea of emotions instead of drowning in it.
I always get back-to-school nerves, and this time is no exception. Actually, it's kind of worse because I'll be teaching a new class that I haven't taught before. And I have all my first day back plans, but I know it will probably be a bust since I have a "getting to know you" game and I'm the only one who doesn't know anyone. It will kind of be like being the new kid. Everyone already knows each other and has their routine and I'll be the only one who doesn't know what is going on. Hopefully, some kids will be nice and show me around. :)
Although I have loved not working, I have realized it is time to pick myself up and move forward. Life is still moving on, and although it froze for me for a short time, I can't stay in this chasm of time forever. However, I am so grateful for it. All I knew was that I wasn't ready to face the world yet, but God knew how much I needed this time to rest.
To say the least, God answered my unspoken prayer. I am going back to work next week and my time at home is almost over, but I have had more than enough time to rest and let go of all the stress in my life. I have read several books, watched lots of movies, played Wii, cleaned, printed and framed pictures, and more. At first when people would ask if I was working, I would tell them, "I'm taking some time off so I can...." and then I didn't know how to fill in the blank. I didn't really know why I was staying home, I just knew it was a good idea.
I have realized that this time away from a normal routine has allowed me to slow down and have time to think and reflect. I think this will help me process everything in the long run, instead of ignoring my grief until it sneaks up and hits me like a brick wall. I have been able to think about, talk about, and write about my pain so I can deal with it a little bit at a time. However, I still have moments where there are small explosions of hurt inside. Sometimes they are triggered by something I see or hear, but most of the time they are random. I just finished reading a book by a grieving mother who said she would never get over the loss of her child, but she would get through it. I am so grateful for this time off because it has allowed me to start wading through this sea of emotions instead of drowning in it.
I always get back-to-school nerves, and this time is no exception. Actually, it's kind of worse because I'll be teaching a new class that I haven't taught before. And I have all my first day back plans, but I know it will probably be a bust since I have a "getting to know you" game and I'm the only one who doesn't know anyone. It will kind of be like being the new kid. Everyone already knows each other and has their routine and I'll be the only one who doesn't know what is going on. Hopefully, some kids will be nice and show me around. :)
Although I have loved not working, I have realized it is time to pick myself up and move forward. Life is still moving on, and although it froze for me for a short time, I can't stay in this chasm of time forever. However, I am so grateful for it. All I knew was that I wasn't ready to face the world yet, but God knew how much I needed this time to rest.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Loss of Dreams
I recently read the statement, "When you lose a parent, you lose your past. When you lose a child, you lose your future." I don't know what it's like to lose a parent, but I do know that much of our grieving centers around the loss of dreams for the future. I have realized that grieving is not about feeling sorry for someone else, but about feeling sorry for yourself. These are not just dreams for Sam that we lost, we lost dreams for ourselves as well.
The day that we lost Sam, I couldn't even think about the future because all of my thoughts about the future for the past six months or more had revolved around having a baby in my life. When God took him, any thoughts I had that were beyond that moment made me feel panicked.
We had become settled in the Ronald McDonald house and made friends there, and I couldn't imagine leaving that place. We had made friends with Sam's nurses and doctors and had spent a lot of time with them over those nine days. It felt like a loss in and of itself to leave the NICU and those wonderful, caring people and know we wouldn't be coming in there every few hours anymore.
If I even thought about work, it made me sick to my stomach. I wasn't supposed to have to go back to work! At first, I would have been leaving work in late April to have the baby and then taking more time off after that to stay home with him. Then, my membrane ruptured, and I thought I would be out of work sooner, living in the hospital. Then, Sam came and I thought I would be out of work, being with him at the hospital. Then, suddenly he's gone, and I realized I would have to go back to work. I don't want it to sound like I don't like my job. I do love teaching, although it is very difficult and often stressful, and I am becoming more and more ready to return to it. The thing that was hard was making plans that enveloped my whole future, and especially the next year, only to have those plans dissolve right in front of me. And to be honest, going back to work is a lot less exciting than getting to stay home and take care of a new baby.
I was even sad about putting away a sewing project I had planned to start for Sam. Don't worry though, that project will be brought out again in the future.
In talking to Ryan, I have realized that we have lost different dreams. Most of mine center around having a little baby: holding him, rocking him, nursing him, etc. Many of Ryan's dreams are about raising a son: teaching him to throw a ball, taking him hunting, building fires in the yard (those of you that know Ryan will not be surprised at this one), and wondering what sport he would play. Of course there are many more that we both share.
Right now, this is probably the part of our grieving that hurts the most. It may always be that way, but only time will tell. These dreams are lost for us, but it is comforting to think that they are not lost for Sam. He is in heaven, breathing without a problem and I'm sure playing and running and throwing baseballs and kicking soccer balls and building bonfires. It is so great to have a faithful God who gives us hope in the midst of our pain!
The day that we lost Sam, I couldn't even think about the future because all of my thoughts about the future for the past six months or more had revolved around having a baby in my life. When God took him, any thoughts I had that were beyond that moment made me feel panicked.
We had become settled in the Ronald McDonald house and made friends there, and I couldn't imagine leaving that place. We had made friends with Sam's nurses and doctors and had spent a lot of time with them over those nine days. It felt like a loss in and of itself to leave the NICU and those wonderful, caring people and know we wouldn't be coming in there every few hours anymore.
If I even thought about work, it made me sick to my stomach. I wasn't supposed to have to go back to work! At first, I would have been leaving work in late April to have the baby and then taking more time off after that to stay home with him. Then, my membrane ruptured, and I thought I would be out of work sooner, living in the hospital. Then, Sam came and I thought I would be out of work, being with him at the hospital. Then, suddenly he's gone, and I realized I would have to go back to work. I don't want it to sound like I don't like my job. I do love teaching, although it is very difficult and often stressful, and I am becoming more and more ready to return to it. The thing that was hard was making plans that enveloped my whole future, and especially the next year, only to have those plans dissolve right in front of me. And to be honest, going back to work is a lot less exciting than getting to stay home and take care of a new baby.
I was even sad about putting away a sewing project I had planned to start for Sam. Don't worry though, that project will be brought out again in the future.
In talking to Ryan, I have realized that we have lost different dreams. Most of mine center around having a little baby: holding him, rocking him, nursing him, etc. Many of Ryan's dreams are about raising a son: teaching him to throw a ball, taking him hunting, building fires in the yard (those of you that know Ryan will not be surprised at this one), and wondering what sport he would play. Of course there are many more that we both share.
Right now, this is probably the part of our grieving that hurts the most. It may always be that way, but only time will tell. These dreams are lost for us, but it is comforting to think that they are not lost for Sam. He is in heaven, breathing without a problem and I'm sure playing and running and throwing baseballs and kicking soccer balls and building bonfires. It is so great to have a faithful God who gives us hope in the midst of our pain!
Thursday, January 20, 2011
What has changed?
Everything has changed, yet at times, it feels like nothing has changed. Sometimes it feels like nothing ever happened because here I am at home, without a baby, and just a little extra fat around my waist. Life is moving forward just like it did on December 20th, the day before my water broke. I had anticipated life completely changing after having a baby, because that's what happens, right? You go to the hospital, give birth, and then you bring home your bundle of joy and everything changes. You don't sleep anymore, you spend hours gazing at this new creation, you fret about what to do when he cries, you nurse the baby, change diapers, greet visitors, brag about what a good baby he is, and live each day like that for a while. Because that's what I anticipated, and that's not what's happening, sometimes it feels like this has all been a dream and I never was pregnant in the first place, since I don't have anything to show for it.
On the other hand, everything has changed. I am changed. I have become a mother. My perspective on what really matters in life is much different. I have been drawn closer to my Savior and seen God working in amazing ways both in my life and in others' lives. My relationship with my husband has been taken to a new place and I don't ever want to look back. Most importantly, I now wear the scar of losing a child.
There have been moments when I am with friends, having a good time, and think, I'm the same person. Then, in the next moment, I feel the pain inside and think, I have changed. The good news is, both are true. I have reached a turning point in my life and although I am still Keenon, I am a new version of her. We have not gone back to being the couple we were before conceiving Sam; we are creating a new family, because we could never be the same even if we tried. Life moves on and we will continue to change and grow with each new challenge and experience that God sends our way.
Although this experience is painful, I can honestly say it is the best experience of my life. The love that I have felt has been worth it all. And not just love for Sam, although obviously that's at the top of my list. The love I have given and especially the love I have received from my spouse, family, friends, and even strangers has been unbelievable. But what has been so awesome to see is God's love penetrating through each of these relationships. I have experienced His love and grace in new ways and to greater depths than I ever imagined I would. Things have definitely changed, and it is good.
On the other hand, everything has changed. I am changed. I have become a mother. My perspective on what really matters in life is much different. I have been drawn closer to my Savior and seen God working in amazing ways both in my life and in others' lives. My relationship with my husband has been taken to a new place and I don't ever want to look back. Most importantly, I now wear the scar of losing a child.
There have been moments when I am with friends, having a good time, and think, I'm the same person. Then, in the next moment, I feel the pain inside and think, I have changed. The good news is, both are true. I have reached a turning point in my life and although I am still Keenon, I am a new version of her. We have not gone back to being the couple we were before conceiving Sam; we are creating a new family, because we could never be the same even if we tried. Life moves on and we will continue to change and grow with each new challenge and experience that God sends our way.
Although this experience is painful, I can honestly say it is the best experience of my life. The love that I have felt has been worth it all. And not just love for Sam, although obviously that's at the top of my list. The love I have given and especially the love I have received from my spouse, family, friends, and even strangers has been unbelievable. But what has been so awesome to see is God's love penetrating through each of these relationships. I have experienced His love and grace in new ways and to greater depths than I ever imagined I would. Things have definitely changed, and it is good.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Joy
It sure gets your attention when you hear a prayer request and a child is involved. It touches you a little bit deeper than most calls for prayer. When it's a baby, a creature who is completely innocent and helpless, I think it's universal for it to pull at your heart and stay on your mind. When Sam was born, I couldn't believe how many people told us they were praying for us, whether it was our close friends, friends we hadn't talked to in a long time, or complete strangers. We have been so grateful throughout this time for all the prayers.
I have been amazed how many people have told me that their lives have been greatly effected by Sam. Some of these individuals have specifically told me that they have been drawn closer to God. Hearing this gives me so much joy. I knew God would work good through this situation, He always does, but it never ceases to amaze me when I see it play out. Not only does this mean that Sam's life and my pain were not in vain, but we can all look forward to eternal joy in heaven if even one person turns his/her eyes to Christ.
I am in awe of what God can do and His amazing grace. When I think about my weaknesses and my sinful nature, I just think, how did I deserve to have such an incredible child? A child who couldn't even open his eyes yet, but is making a greater impact on the world than I could ever hope to. All I know is that God's grace is amazing and His love is abundant. My motivation to get to heaven is so much greater now that I know my sweet boy is waiting on me. As King David said in 2 Samuel 12:23, "But now that he is dead, why should I go on fasting? Can I bring him back again? I will go to him, but he will not return to me." How amazing is that as a parent? Ryan and I know our son will not return to us, but that we will go to him in heaven. I know we are not the only ones who are anxious to see Sam again one day, so to those of you who are anxiously awaiting meeting our Savior face to face as well as my little boy, thank you for your faith and your love for Sam.
I have been amazed how many people have told me that their lives have been greatly effected by Sam. Some of these individuals have specifically told me that they have been drawn closer to God. Hearing this gives me so much joy. I knew God would work good through this situation, He always does, but it never ceases to amaze me when I see it play out. Not only does this mean that Sam's life and my pain were not in vain, but we can all look forward to eternal joy in heaven if even one person turns his/her eyes to Christ.
I am in awe of what God can do and His amazing grace. When I think about my weaknesses and my sinful nature, I just think, how did I deserve to have such an incredible child? A child who couldn't even open his eyes yet, but is making a greater impact on the world than I could ever hope to. All I know is that God's grace is amazing and His love is abundant. My motivation to get to heaven is so much greater now that I know my sweet boy is waiting on me. As King David said in 2 Samuel 12:23, "But now that he is dead, why should I go on fasting? Can I bring him back again? I will go to him, but he will not return to me." How amazing is that as a parent? Ryan and I know our son will not return to us, but that we will go to him in heaven. I know we are not the only ones who are anxious to see Sam again one day, so to those of you who are anxiously awaiting meeting our Savior face to face as well as my little boy, thank you for your faith and your love for Sam.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
To Sam
To Sam:
i carry your heart with me by e.e. cummings
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
Love, Mommy
i carry your heart with me by e.e. cummings
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
Love, Mommy
One Week Later
I have been putting off writing this post all day. All day long, I have been saying to Ryan, "This time last week..." This time last week, at 5:30 PM, I think we were back home. We had said goodbye to Sam, checked out of the Ronald McDonald House, and arrived home. We were waiting on Ryan's dad to get here and we had ordered pizza for dinner with Ryan's mom and sister. At that point, we were still very sad, but felt peaceful about the day.
When I woke up this morning and realized what day it was, I knew I would spend today laying around, allowing myself to be sad and remember everything that happened one week ago today. I always feel slightly guilty for skipping church, but then I decided no one would blame me today. I needed time to think about losing my son. Every day I think of something new or hear something that hurts in a new way, and that's ok. Eventually all of these things won't sting quite so harshly.
Last night, I realized that Sam is pretty much all I want to think about or talk about. That's pretty typical for a new mom, but my memories are limited to nine days. I will never be able to say, "Listen to what Sam started doing this week..." or "Sam just did this for the first time." Eventually, most people will no longer want to talk about the same nine days anymore. Right now, that's not the case, but I know that day will come. While that makes me sad, I am thankful for those precious few people in my life who I know will not tire of talking about Sam, no matter how many times we relive those same moments.
On a different note, I want to thank everyone who came to Sam's Celebration of Life yesterday. We thought we would cry all morning, but I think we only came close a few times. It was such a joy to see all of our friends, old and new, and see all the love for Sam. It made me so proud to watch the scrolling pictures and videos of my sweet boy. It makes my heart so full to know how much prayer and support is out there for our family. I don't know how to express my gratitude, but I hope you can understand how much I appreciate you. We especially want to thank everyone who helped us prepare for the celebration. We couldn't have done it alone!
When I woke up this morning and realized what day it was, I knew I would spend today laying around, allowing myself to be sad and remember everything that happened one week ago today. I always feel slightly guilty for skipping church, but then I decided no one would blame me today. I needed time to think about losing my son. Every day I think of something new or hear something that hurts in a new way, and that's ok. Eventually all of these things won't sting quite so harshly.
Last night, I realized that Sam is pretty much all I want to think about or talk about. That's pretty typical for a new mom, but my memories are limited to nine days. I will never be able to say, "Listen to what Sam started doing this week..." or "Sam just did this for the first time." Eventually, most people will no longer want to talk about the same nine days anymore. Right now, that's not the case, but I know that day will come. While that makes me sad, I am thankful for those precious few people in my life who I know will not tire of talking about Sam, no matter how many times we relive those same moments.
On a different note, I want to thank everyone who came to Sam's Celebration of Life yesterday. We thought we would cry all morning, but I think we only came close a few times. It was such a joy to see all of our friends, old and new, and see all the love for Sam. It made me so proud to watch the scrolling pictures and videos of my sweet boy. It makes my heart so full to know how much prayer and support is out there for our family. I don't know how to express my gratitude, but I hope you can understand how much I appreciate you. We especially want to thank everyone who helped us prepare for the celebration. We couldn't have done it alone!
Friday, January 7, 2011
Celebration of Life for Sam
Just wanted to remind everybody about tomorrow morning. We are looking forward to seeing everybody!
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Some thoughts
These are just some of the many thoughts that have been running through my head lately:
- Every day gets a little bit easier. While that is good, in a way, I don't want it to get easier because I want to feel. I know that's not a good way to be forever, but right now, I just want to feel the pain of my loss and not forget these emotions.
- My body has shrunk quickly and my milk is drying up much quicker than I expected. Again, while this may seem good, it also makes me sad. Those are things that physically tied me to Sam and it's hard to see them go. I never ever thought I would say it, but I have enjoyed pumping my milk. It does break my heart that I never got to breastfeed Sam. I had such a desire to do that (I guess that's nature's maternal instincts kicking in). I am glad that he did get some of my milk though. It wasn't much, but at least this wasn't all in vain. I know that one day, I will get to breastfeed another baby, and I look forward to that day.
- I am starting to feel like some people are thinking we did something extraordinary. I think God has used us for extraordinary outcomes, but all we did was live through this situation. We kept a sense of reality while hoping for the best, and yes, we didn't lose our faith, but what would life be without God? I am humbled that God would use me and my son to touch so many people, even if it hurts in the process. A friend pointed out to me today how one tiny person who only lived for 9 days in a humid plastic box has impacted more people than most people will impact in a lifetime. One thing I know for sure is that Sam increased a lot of people's prayer life, including mine! My prayer life has decreased since we lost Sam, and I have been convicted to continue to pray as often, even when I am not begging God for a miracle. It is easy to pray a lot when you are asking God for something specific to happen, like healing a baby. It is harder when that situation has ended. I just hope and pray that no one becomes disillusioned with God because He didn't save Sam. That's what we were all hoping for of course, but no one knows the will of God. I have already seen several ways that He has used this situation, and I am sure there is much more to come. Everything happens for a reason, and I believe Sam's life has happened for many reasons!
- I am looking forward to seeing everyone on Saturday. If you are unsure of what to say, don't worry, you don't have to say anything! I wouldn't know what to say either. We just want to see everyone. And of course, I'm still a proud mother who thinks her baby is the cutest thing ever and I want to show off the pictures of him. :)
- Side note: If you've never seen a preemie, the pictures can be hard to look at, because he is very tiny and has lots of things hooked up to him. It can be emotional the first time you see it. Just want everyone to be prepared.
- I miss Sam and wish I could kiss his face again.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Celebration of Life for Sam
We are not doing a traditional funeral, but we are going to have a Celebration of Life this Saturday, January 8th, at First Baptist Church in Cleveland from 9:00-12:00 in the morning. It will be in the "Backyard", or children's area, on the main floor.
It is just a casual drop-in gathering where you can come talk to us, look at pictures of Sam, and see the mementos we have of him.
We are so appreciative of all the love, support, and prayers that so many of you have provided for Sam and for us. We know that many of you have not even met us or don't know us that well, but your prayers have been felt. We want you to come and be a part of this celebration of such a wonderful little life!
It is just a casual drop-in gathering where you can come talk to us, look at pictures of Sam, and see the mementos we have of him.
We are so appreciative of all the love, support, and prayers that so many of you have provided for Sam and for us. We know that many of you have not even met us or don't know us that well, but your prayers have been felt. We want you to come and be a part of this celebration of such a wonderful little life!
Our loss, heaven's gain
Well, we lost our little boy yesterday. He went to heaven at 10:15 AM on January 2nd, 2011. We got a call yesterday morning to come quickly to the NICU... again. He had such a good day the day before that I had been full of hope. However, Ryan had not felt settled all night. When we got there, they told us they had done everything they could and his stats were continuing to drop. They pulled up a rocking chair and the privacy screens and let us hold him outside the incubator. It felt so good to finally hold my baby, even with his respirator still hooked up to him. His eyes were still fused shut but we could see his eyes moving underneath the lids and knew that if he could open them, he would have been looking up at us.
We knew it was the end and after taking turns holding him for over an hour, we decided he was being kept alive artificially and it was time to remove the respirator. I thought that would be a hard decision, but when the time came, we both had peace about it and knew it was time.
They removed his respirator and I got to hold him close to my chest and kiss him and kiss him and kiss him some more. I had wanted to kiss him for so long and it was nice to finally be able to do it. Sam was a fighter even to the end and the doctor had to come back twice to check for his heartbeat. We also loved finally being able to see his whole face without the respirator tape covering his mouth. He had the sweetest little mouth.
I think we both immediately felt better. He looked peaceful and we knew he was in heaven and would never have to struggle for life again.
After holding him for a while longer, we did footprints, handprints, a foot and hand mold, and bathed him with "Aunt" Kerry. Those are some precious memories. It was fun to get to bathe him and dress him and we were all joyful during that time. I was finally able to touch him without fear of hurting him or messing something up. He looked really good after we cleaned him and dressed him in a blue knit outfit.
We then wrapped him in a blanket and went to a private room to be with him. Linda and Mindy got to come and hold him and say goodbye. After several hours there, we realized we would never be ready to let him go, but we couldn't stay there forever. After lots of looking at him and kisses and holding him close, we turned him over to Kerry. I am so glad she was his nurse that day. I can't imagine going through all of that with anyone else and I really don't think I would have been able to give him to anyone else when we said goodbye. She was a special part of Sam's life, as were all his nurses and doctors, because they spent so much time with him and us and knew him so well.
It was hard to let him go, it was hard to leave the NICU and the friends we had made there, and it was hard to leave the Ronald McDonald House. The past two days have been hard and the days to come will be hard. We have talked a lot with each other about everything, and we have realized we are not sad for Sam, because this is better for him, but we are sad for the hurt and loss that we feel, as well as the hurt and loss we know that our friends and family feel.
I don't know why this happened or why it happened to us, and I don't expect to know why, but I do know that as much as it hurts, I am glad it happened. Sam gave me the greatest gift and allowed me to be a mommy for nine glorious days. He was such a sweet, cute baby and he brought so much joy to my life.
I love you Sam, and I'll see you in heaven one day. XOXO
We knew it was the end and after taking turns holding him for over an hour, we decided he was being kept alive artificially and it was time to remove the respirator. I thought that would be a hard decision, but when the time came, we both had peace about it and knew it was time.
They removed his respirator and I got to hold him close to my chest and kiss him and kiss him and kiss him some more. I had wanted to kiss him for so long and it was nice to finally be able to do it. Sam was a fighter even to the end and the doctor had to come back twice to check for his heartbeat. We also loved finally being able to see his whole face without the respirator tape covering his mouth. He had the sweetest little mouth.
I think we both immediately felt better. He looked peaceful and we knew he was in heaven and would never have to struggle for life again.
After holding him for a while longer, we did footprints, handprints, a foot and hand mold, and bathed him with "Aunt" Kerry. Those are some precious memories. It was fun to get to bathe him and dress him and we were all joyful during that time. I was finally able to touch him without fear of hurting him or messing something up. He looked really good after we cleaned him and dressed him in a blue knit outfit.
We then wrapped him in a blanket and went to a private room to be with him. Linda and Mindy got to come and hold him and say goodbye. After several hours there, we realized we would never be ready to let him go, but we couldn't stay there forever. After lots of looking at him and kisses and holding him close, we turned him over to Kerry. I am so glad she was his nurse that day. I can't imagine going through all of that with anyone else and I really don't think I would have been able to give him to anyone else when we said goodbye. She was a special part of Sam's life, as were all his nurses and doctors, because they spent so much time with him and us and knew him so well.
It was hard to let him go, it was hard to leave the NICU and the friends we had made there, and it was hard to leave the Ronald McDonald House. The past two days have been hard and the days to come will be hard. We have talked a lot with each other about everything, and we have realized we are not sad for Sam, because this is better for him, but we are sad for the hurt and loss that we feel, as well as the hurt and loss we know that our friends and family feel.
I don't know why this happened or why it happened to us, and I don't expect to know why, but I do know that as much as it hurts, I am glad it happened. Sam gave me the greatest gift and allowed me to be a mommy for nine glorious days. He was such a sweet, cute baby and he brought so much joy to my life.
I love you Sam, and I'll see you in heaven one day. XOXO
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Saturday, January 1, 2011
We just had a very "uneventful" visit with Sam which was very nice. He is pretty stable right now and seems comfortable with his new belly position. Just hoping and praying that he has found some comfort and will continue to stay happy. Its amazing how quickly his condition can change for the good and for the bad. Every moment we get to spend with him is a real joy and we know he is in good hands. Nurse Kerry will be back again tomorrow which is nice because we have gotten to know her well and Sam seems to like her :)
Thanks for all the prayers and support. Hopefully tomorrow brings more good news!
Thanks for all the prayers and support. Hopefully tomorrow brings more good news!
"Doctor said there'll be days like this, there'll be days like this, Sam's doctor said..."
The roller coaster has left the station and Sam is taking us for a wild ride. We rushed to the hospital first thing this morning, preparing ourselves to lose him. For a few horrible minutes, we just looked at our baby and waited to see what God would do. At that point, the doctors had pretty much done all they could do. I didn't cry or anything then because I was just waiting. I knew there would be plenty of emotion coming, either good or bad, so all I could do was wait.
The respiratory therapist suggested putting Sam on his stomach. That was something they hadn't tried yet, and he quickly started doing better. He has done well all day. We could not believe it when we were able to continually turn down his oxygen percentage because he was doing so much better.
Sam continues to amaze us with his resilience. Today was the first time we had to rush to the hospital, but it probably won't be the last. It is crazy to think that we will have to continue to prepare ourselves to lose our precious son if God wants to take him, while hoping and praying that God's will is for him to grow strong and healthy. I told God that if he takes Sam, I will accept it, but I won't like it. :)
That being said, there is so much joy in the high moments. It is still joyful to have a baby boy who is SO CUTE even if he is in such a fragile state. Even though this road will be long (it already feels long) and difficult, I wouldn't trade it for the world because I love being able to see and be with my boy. And he is really, really cute! I know all new mothers think that about their child, and I am no exception with my blond haired tiny baby.
The respiratory therapist suggested putting Sam on his stomach. That was something they hadn't tried yet, and he quickly started doing better. He has done well all day. We could not believe it when we were able to continually turn down his oxygen percentage because he was doing so much better.
Sam continues to amaze us with his resilience. Today was the first time we had to rush to the hospital, but it probably won't be the last. It is crazy to think that we will have to continue to prepare ourselves to lose our precious son if God wants to take him, while hoping and praying that God's will is for him to grow strong and healthy. I told God that if he takes Sam, I will accept it, but I won't like it. :)
That being said, there is so much joy in the high moments. It is still joyful to have a baby boy who is SO CUTE even if he is in such a fragile state. Even though this road will be long (it already feels long) and difficult, I wouldn't trade it for the world because I love being able to see and be with my boy. And he is really, really cute! I know all new mothers think that about their child, and I am no exception with my blond haired tiny baby.
This kid is a fighter. He is still going strong laying on his stomach. He doesn't like people messing with him right now so they are trying to just let him rest as much as possible. His oxygen levels are the best we've seen in a couple days. It can all change very fast, but pray that this continues!
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
We woke up to the phone ringing this morning at 8 am. It was the Nicu calling saying we should come up there quickly. The doctors have done about all they can do for him at this point. When we got up here, they decided to roll him on his stomach and see if that would do anything. It is working so far. His oxygen has bounced back a little which is great news but we don't know how long this will last. We are prepared for whatever happens and know that its all up to God, whether he takes him today or in 80 years. Thanks for all the prayers!
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
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