8 months

This sweet little girl turns 8 months today. She currently loves repeating "dada". Kalen of course LOVES it. She is able to sit by herself for a few minutes before rolling over. She does love trying to crawl. It's pretty funny watching her move backwards. She decided just last week to finally take a bottle which has made my life a little easier. My life had revolved around "feedings".

Her loves include:
Her blanket
Sweet potatoes
Brianna
Daddy
Mommy
Bananas


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Not sure what to title this

I need to vent!!!

I'm not looking forward at all for Christmas. It's when families get together and mine can't be "together". I HATE it! I hate that Dylan isn't here. I hate that Isabella and Brianna have a crazy mom. I HATE that I live in a fog. I try. I really do. This has been an extremely difficult year. Many don't even talk of Dylan's name. He is MISSED. We want to talk about him. I want him back and HATE that I can't.

Due to living in a "fog" not all my memories of Dylan are correct. I can't remember what his hair felt like, how heavy he was in my arms, what his laugh sounded like, what the callouses on his finger felt like and so much more. I have to look at pictures and movies. I HATE that! I HATE it!

It's an emotional day. Bear with me........

Christmas Wish and update

I know that I haven't blogged in forever. Life with a baby is hard. It feels even harder having a baby while your are grieving. I am tired all the time.

Sweet Isabella is almost 10 months old. Can you believe it? I do most of my updates on her on Facebook. Good thing we have lots of pictures of her. I have a ton of a scrap booking that needs to be done.

There have been numerous times that I have wanted to blog but time just seems to escape from me. I couldn't sleep so I decided to blog.

As Christmas approaches, my heart feels heavier. I still can't believe that Dylan isn't here. This will be Isabella's first Christmas and Dylan's second one not being here. It's hard to explain how I feel.

Everyday is hard without Dylan being here. He is still the first and last thought I have getting in and out of bed. People who have been living with the unimaginable pain of losing a child says the grief changes, but it never fully goes away. Oh can it? I'm not sure when, but I'm gradually able to function a little better. I'm still a mess. Kalen and Brianna have been troopers to put up with me. Isabella doesn't know what I use to be like. I feel bad for her, but I guess if she doesn't know what I was like before Dylan died she cant compare. We actually have more nights now where I actually make a dinner. I can't even begin to explain how difficult trying to make a meal can be. I still feel like I'm watching myself living or that it's a dream. It's a very strange feeling. I try VERY hard to be present. It's a very difficult thing to do.

I'm not sure how many blog readers we have left, but to those of you that are pleasantly surprised that I have new post, I'm asking, no, I'm pleading with you to help us fill Dylan's stocking with letters/emails with acts of service that you perform between now and Christmas. We read the ones we got last year on Christmas and were amazed at the selfless and generous acts you provided to others. It warmed our hearts when we were feeling a huge void in our hearts. I love that so many refereed the day that service was provided as Dylan's day. It means that Dylan isn't forgotten. That's a mother and father's fear. Doing acts with Dylan in mind, to help fill his stocking, helps me know that others still care and that he IS remembered.

So with that being said, please drop off or send your letters to our home (let me know if you need our address) or email me them, or send them through Facebook. I am looking forward to (crossing my fingers people will participate again this year) reading those letters. Remember if you want to remain anonymous you can.

Thank You!

Let me know if you have any questions;)

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I promise.....

I promise I will blog soon. So much has happened lately it seems like. One of these days I'll sit down and blog with pictures and everything, but till then I'll be working on coupons:)

NY Times Article

I was sent this article from a friend. It's so true.........

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/10/16/opinion/sunday/notes-from-a-dragon-mom.html?src=tp&smid=fb-share

Emily Rapp is the author of “Poster Child: A Memoir,” and a professor of creative writing at the Santa Fe University of Art and Design.

Santa Fe, N.M.

MY son, Ronan, looks at me and raises one eyebrow. His eyes are bright and focused. Ronan means “little seal” in Irish and it suits him.

I want to stop here, before the dreadful hitch: my son is 18 months old and will likely die before his third birthday. Ronan was born with Tay-Sachs, a rare genetic disorder. He is slowly regressing into a vegetative state. He’ll become paralyzed, experience seizures, lose all of his senses before he dies. There is no treatment and no cure.

How do you parent without a net, without a future, knowing that you will lose your child, bit by torturous bit?

Depressing? Sure. But not without wisdom, not without a profound understanding of the human experience or without hard-won lessons, forged through grief and helplessness and deeply committed love about how to be not just a mother or a father but how to be human.

Parenting advice is, by its nature, future-directed. I know. I read all the parenting magazines. During my pregnancy, I devoured every parenting guide I could find. My husband and I thought about a lot of questions they raised: will breast-feeding enhance his brain function? Will music class improve his cognitive skills? Will the right preschool help him get into the right college? I made lists. I planned and plotted and hoped. Future, future, future.

We never thought about how we might parent a child for whom there is no future. The prenatal test I took for Tay-Sachs was negative; our genetic counselor didn’t think I needed the test, since I’m not Jewish and Tay-Sachs is thought to be a greater risk among Ashkenazi Jews. Being somewhat obsessive about such matters, I had it done anyway, twice. Both times the results were negative.

Our parenting plans, our lists, the advice I read before Ronan’s birth make little sense now. No matter what we do for Ronan — choose organic or non-organic food; cloth diapers or disposable; attachment parenting or sleep training — he will die. All the decisions that once mattered so much, don’t.

All parents want their children to prosper, to matter. We enroll our children in music class or take them to Mommy and Me swim class because we hope they will manifest some fabulous talent that will set them — and therefore us, the proud parents — apart. Traditional parenting naturally presumes a future where the child outlives the parent and ideally becomes successful, perhaps even achieves something spectacular. Amy Chua’s “Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother” is only the latest handbook for parents hoping to guide their children along this path. It’s animated by the idea that good, careful investments in your children will pay off in the form of happy endings, rich futures.

But I have abandoned the future, and with it any visions of Ronan’s scoring a perfect SAT or sprinting across a stage with a Harvard diploma in his hand. We’re not waiting for Ronan to make us proud. We don’t expect future returns on our investment. We’ve chucked the graphs of developmental milestones and we avoid parenting magazines at the pediatrician’s office. Ronan has given us a terrible freedom from expectations, a magical world where there are no goals, no prizes to win, no outcomes to monitor, discuss, compare.

But the day-to-day is often peaceful, even blissful. This was my day with my son: cuddling, feedings, naps. He can watch television if he wants to; he can have pudding and cheesecake for every meal. We are a very permissive household. We do our best for our kid, feed him fresh food, brush his teeth, make sure he’s clean and warm and well rested and ... healthy? Well, no. The only task here is to love, and we tell him we love him, not caring that he doesn’t understand the words. We encourage him to do what he can, though unlike us he is without ego or ambition.

Ronan won’t prosper or succeed in the way we have come to understand this term in our culture; he will never walk or say “Mama,” and I will never be a tiger mom. The mothers and fathers of terminally ill children are something else entirely. Our goals are simple and terrible: to help our children live with minimal discomfort and maximum dignity. We will not launch our children into a bright and promising future, but see them into early graves. We will prepare to lose them and then, impossibly, to live on after that gutting loss. This requires a new ferocity, a new way of thinking, a new animal. We are dragon parents: fierce and loyal and loving as hell. Our experiences have taught us how to parent for the here and now, for the sake of parenting, for the humanity implicit in the act itself, though this runs counter to traditional wisdom and advice.

NOBODY asks dragon parents for advice; we’re too scary. Our grief is primal and unwieldy and embarrassing. The certainties that most parents face are irrelevant to us, and frankly, kind of silly. Our narratives are grisly, the stakes impossibly high. Conversations about which seizure medication is most effective or how to feed children who have trouble swallowing are tantamount to breathing fire at a dinner party or on the playground. Like Dr. Spock suddenly possessed by Al Gore, we offer inconvenient truths and foretell disaster.

And there’s this: parents who, particularly in this country, are expected to be superhuman, to raise children who outpace all their peers, don’t want to see what we see. The long truth about their children, about themselves: that none of it is forever.

I would walk through a tunnel of fire if it would save my son. I would take my chances on a stripped battlefield with a sling and a rock à la David and Goliath if it would make a difference. But it won’t. I can roar all I want about the unfairness of this ridiculous disease, but the facts remain. What I can do is protect my son from as much pain as possible, and then finally do the hardest thing of all, a thing most parents will thankfully never have to do: I will love him to the end of his life, and then I will let him go.

But today Ronan is alive and his breath smells like sweet rice. I can see my reflection in his greenish-gold eyes. I am a reflection of him and not the other way around, and this is, I believe, as it should be. This is a love story, and like all great love stories, it is a story of loss. Parenting, I’ve come to understand, is about loving my child today. Now. In fact, for any parent, anywhere, that’s all there is.

Funk

I guess that's what it is. I don't know how to explain it. I liked being "naive" in a way before Dylan died. Life wasn't so harsh for me. I still have moments that I can't think straight. I'm disorganized and that frusterates me. It's not like I can just turn on my "organization" switch. Believe me I wish I could. I'm really trying to be "happy" but it's hard. I'm trying..... I mean if I wasn't trying to "live", do you think I honestly would train for a marathon. Training for a marathon is one of the hardest things I've ever physically done. It's so much harder this time around since Dylan died. I ran 16 miles yesterday. Yes!, you read that right....16 miles. While I was alone with my thoughts for 2 hours and 40 minutes, lots of thoughts were going through my head. One was why the heck am I doing this??? The only answer I could come up with is that I have to be "dedicated" to training and since I feel like my life is out of control, running gives me a strange sense of control. I wish I could get that feeling somewhere else. My feet would probably appreciate it if I could. I'm not sure what I'm trying to prove to myself, but it's definitely something. Only 8 more weeks until the race. I can't wait. I'm nervous more this time around than the other two full marathons I've run. It's probably because I'm in a different place in my life. So here's to hopefully not having more blisters, chaffing in not so pleasant places and to a get a new PR (personal record) for a marathon:)

Identity

I know people will probably think Im super lame after this post but honestly I don't care.

Where do I fit in? That's been the question weighing on my mind. I feel like I've lost all my "special needs" friends. I know what their lives are like. I lived it. I just don't get to live that anymore. My friends with "typical kids" are busy too. I have a hard time fitting in their world too. Then there are my "angel" friends. I feel like I fit in with them at times but since each of us deal with our grief differently we are at different places.

I just found out that my best friend will be moving away. I'm bummed because she has been there through this awful roller-coaster of emotions. I know she won't be far but it's not going to be the same.

Those that know me well know I HATE change. Good or bad. It's not something I enjoy or look forward to. Im grateful telephones exist, because if they didn't I'm not sure what I would do.

So here's to me finding my way through the misty road I've been traveling on and that I can make it over this boulder that has been put in my path in one piece.


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The Journey

My good friend Kasie, shared this with me. It describes what I feel my life is like since Dylan died. I think you other Angel Moms will feel the same.

THE JOURNEY - AUTHOR UNKNOWN

Before we go through a loss like this, we assume that grief is like falling into a deep hole. We think we will start climbing a ladder and as we get closer to the top things start getting brighter and brighter and we keep feeling better and better until we finally step out into the sunshine where the birds are singing and beautiful music is playing and our grief is over and we are then officially "over it"!

Instead, I have found it is like being plunked down into the middle of a mountain range. We start on the top, with the breathtaking view, when life is wonderful. We are just walking along, basking in the sun and the beautiful scenery when suddenly we fall off a cliff. Now we are lying in a deep, deep valley: bruised, confused, hurt, scared, and lonely. We soon realize that there is no easy way out, no rescue in sight. The only way out is to do it ourselves. So we start working our way up the mountainside, sometimes walking, sometimes crawling, and often stumbling. It is very hard, very discouraging, and very exhausting work. Finally we reach the top and see the sun again for a while. Maybe the top will be flat and we'll get to spend a little time up there enjoying it, or maybe it is very steep and as soon as we get there we have to start back down the other side into the next valley again.

The one thing we notice is that there are mountains as far as the eye can see. Somehow, we have to make our way through them if we are ever to get out. That thought can be overwhelming and cause us to give up for a while. But eventually we realize once again that the only way out is to keep going, so we start again: down one mountain and up the next. And sometimes on the journey, after a particularly hard stretch, we think, I'm so glad I finally made it through that!! And then we stop and look around and realize that we've been here before! All this work and we've gone in a circle and we're going to have to do it all again! And sometimes as we are climbing, we look up to see if we are getting any closer to the top, and we see a boulder heading our way. If we are fortunate, we manage to avoid it. But usually we can't, and it hits us head on and sends us tumbling back down to the bottom.

Sometimes when we are in the deepest part of the valley, we just sit, exhausted. And we might notice some things around us that we never saw before: flowers and animals and a gentle breeze in the cool of the valley. There is a world down in the valley that we never even knew existed, and there is beauty in it. And sometimes at night, when all is quiet, we can hear the others who are in the valley weeping. And it is then that we realize that we are not alone, that others are making this journey too. And we realize that we share an understanding of the journey and of the world of the valley that most others don't. And it gives us strength to start the climb all over again.

Sometimes as we are climbing the mountain, a helicopter may come by with some of our friends in it. Seeing us struggling up the mountain, they shout encouraging things like, I know just what you're going through; I went on a hike once. And, you are so strong; I know I couldn't make this climb! Or they ask, when will you finally get over these mountains and be yourself again? And we try to tell them about the journey and the world of the valley, but the sound of the helicopter drowns us out and they can't hear us. They throw down some food to give us energy, and it does, but some of it just pelts us on the head and makes the climb even harder. And then they leave, and we breathe a sigh of relief that we can get back to our climb in peace.

As we make this journey, we start to notice that we are becoming a little bit stronger. When we get to the rough patches we now see that we are shaken but don't always fall. We find that sometimes we can walk upright now, instead of just crawling. And sometimes we can see a rough spot ahead and manage to find a better way around it. And once in a while we crest a mountain and see that the top is very flat and very beautiful, and we get to spend quite a while resting and recovering on the top before starting down again. And we notice that we are getting closer to the edge of the mountains; they seem to be getting a little smaller. The mountains are not as tall, and the valleys are not as low or as wide. In fact, we can now see the foothills, and it gives us hope.

And throughout this journey, we see the others who are traveling it as well, sometimes at a distance, and sometimes up close. And we encourage each other to keep going and to watch out for certain things. We talk about the journey and the world of the valley. Finally, someone else who understands! And we cry together when it is just too hard. And sometimes, we catch a glimpse of someone who has made it to the foothills. And we are so excited for them, and we become even more determined to keep going because someday, we too, will make it to the foothills.

So my point is this: Everyone starts on a different mountain. No two journeys are the same. Some people spend a lot of time in the valley at first, and some have more time on top of the mountain. But we will all be on the mountains and in the valleys. And we will all someday make it to the foothills. I promise.
..

Happy Birthday Brianna

Happy Birthday Brianna! We love you. I can't believe you are starting 1st grade next week. Seems like you were just born.


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15 months

Today is a blah day. Yesterday was as well. I really have been struggling lately. I mean REALLY struggling. That might come as a surprise to most, but I am. The daily tasks are hard. If I let you in my house, you'd be amazed at how disorganized it is. That's one of the frustrating things that has come with Dylan dying. I was so organized and on top of everything before he died. Now, it's another story. I try. Believe me I try. Life is just so overwhelming. I know that many think that I should be back to my old self. It isn't going to happen.

I miss Dylan. Kalen and I were just talking last night about how as time goes on it hasn't gotten any easier. If anything harder. The memories we have are farther away and it's been just way too long since we got to hold Dylan. I miss him so much. My brain is still trying to make sense of it. If I think about it too long I seriously feel crazy. It just doesn't make sense. I'm envious of all of you that have all your children here on earth with you. I wish I had all of my children here with me.

I don't expect many to understand the daily "hell" our family goes through everyday. We miss Dylan and wish he was here. There is a constant feeling that someone is missing. It SUCKS!!!!

I needed this today

Top 20 reasons Moms of kids with Special Needs ROCK!
Dandelion 28 Fall/Winter 2010

1. Because we never thought that “doing it all” would mean doing this much. But we do it all – And then some.

2. Because we’ve discovered patience we never knew we had.

3. Because we are willing to do something 10 times, 100 times, or 1000 times if that’s what it takes for our kids to learn something new.

4. Because we have heard doctors tell us the worst, and we’ve refused to believe them. Take that, nay saying doctors of the world!

5. Because we have bad days and breakdowns and bawl-fests, and then we pick ourselves up and keep right on going.

6. Because we gracefully handle the stares, the comments, the rude remarks. (Well, mostly gracefully.)

7. Because we manage to get ourselves together and get out the door looking pretty damn good. Heck, we even make sweatpants look good!

8. Because we are strong. Man, are we strong. Who knew we could be this strong?

9. Because we aren’t just moms, wives, cooks, cleaners, chauffeurs, and women who work. We are moms, wives, cooks, cleaners, chauffeurs, woman who work, physical therapists, speech therapists, occupational therapists, teachers, researchers, nurses, coaches, and cheerleaders. Whew!

10. Because we work overtime every single day.

11. Because we also worry overtime, but we work it through. Or we eat chocolate or Pirates Booty or gourmet cheese (which aren’t reimbursable by insurance as mental health necessities, but should be).

12. Because we are more selfless than other moms. Our kids need a more.

13. Because we give our kids with special needs endless love and then we still have so much love left over for our other kids, our husbands, our families.

14. Because we inspire one another in that crazy blogosphere every single day.

15. Because we understand our kids better than anyone else even if they cant talk, even if they can’t gesture, even if they can’t look us in the eye. We know. We just know.

16. Because we never stop pushing for our kids.

17. Because we never stop hoping for them either.

18. Because just when we seems things are going okay they’re suddenly not okay, but we deal. Somehow we always deal – even when it seems like our heads or hearts might explode.

19. Because when we look at our kids, we just see great kids, not kids with cerebral palsy/autism/down syndrome/developmental delays/whatever.

20. Because… well, you tell me!


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I love this saying!

The Cord

The Cord (author unknown)

We are connected, My Child and I,
By an invisible cord, not seen by the eye.
It's not like the cord that connects us 'till birth
This cord can't be seen by any on Earth.
This cord starts to work, right from the start.
It binds us together, attached to my heart.
I know that it's there, though no one can see.
The invisible cord, from my Child to Me.
The strength of this cord is hard to describe.
It can't be destroyed, it can't be denied.
It's stronger than any cord man could create.
It withstands the test, can hold any weight.
And though you are gone, though you're not with me.
The cord is still there, but no one can see.
It pulls at my heart, I am bruised...I am sore.
But this cord is my lifeline as never before.
I am thankful that God connects us this way,
A Mother, her Child, nothing can take away.

Happy 8th Birthday Dylan!

Today Dylan would have turned 8. It seems like yesterday that he was just born. I became a mom. I am filled with so many emotions today. Tears have been flowing steadily. I like to think that in Heaven they celebrate birthdays. Dylan is worth celebrating. We love and miss him so much! Happy Birthday Day, Bubba!

Loving and missing you always my sweet boy.

Down

That's how I've been feeling lately. Everything in my life seems to be unraveling. It's so frustrating.

For the most part we are well. I'm tired but what else is new. I guess I thought I had Isabella figured out and for the past 3 days she's been difficult.

On a good note, she is sleeping longer at night, which I am so grateful for. She loves to smile at everyone. I think Brianna can get the biggest smile out of her. She is also in the starting stages of laughing. It's more of a squawk than anything else.


Kalen has been working lots of long hours which makes for really long days. I feel like I never see him. I appreciate that he goes to work everyday.


Brianna just last week lost another tooth. She looks so cute. She has 4 more loose teeth in varying stages of "looseness". Is that really a word?


I'm busy with the girls. I've also been busy with exercising. It seems to have been consuming my life. I'm not as pleased as I would like but I've lost almost 15 pounds in 6 weeks. Not too shabby. My body does feel like it's falling apart. I hope it keeps going because I have a ton more weight that I need to lose.

Next Monday is Dylan's birthday. Since Kalen has to work we will be heading to the cemetery on Sunday for cupcakes and a balloon release with messages on them to Dylan.



I know part of the reason I'm struggling right now is that its getting closer to Dylan's birthday. I can't believe he would have been 8. I wonder what he would be doing now if he were still alive. Would he have mastered sitting independently for a few more seconds? He worked so hard during physical therapy. Would he still have his baby face? Would he still love music and vibration? Would he still like me to rock him? I hope he would. I really miss those quiet moments when it was just me and him in the middle of the night. Yes I was tired and many times exhausted but I am so grateful I had those times with him. I just wish I would have appreciated those times more when he was alive.



I hoping to that life will be a little brighter tomorrow.

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Reminder

Got this in the mail today. I HATE these kinds of reminders. July is another hard month. Dylan would have been turning 8. I can only imagine what our life would be like if he was here. I wish he was. I'm really missing him today.





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Lately

I haven't blogged in awhile. It isn't due to a lack of words but I'm having a hard time putting what I'm feeling into a logical sense.

As I was rocking Isabella this evening, tears began to flow. The tears have been pushed back for a few weeks and they rushed over me. I couldn't keep them away. While I was singing one of Dylan's favorite songs, I just kept thinking how sad it is that Isabella won't know her brother. It's so heartbreaking. As I rocked her in the same rocking chair I did Dylan and Brianna I was trying to remember what it was like rocking both of them as well as making the memory of rocking her. I don't want to forget. I miss the awkward angle I had to hold Dylan while rocking him because he was so tall. I wish I could feel his weight again and the rhythm of his breathing. I miss him so much. I would give anything to hear his laugh, to see his face, his smile but just to be able to hug and hold him is what I want right now.

There are times since Isabella has been born that I worry I'm betraying Dylan by opening my heart and loving Isabella. I know rationally that I'm not. I find myself staring at her, wondering what she'll be like when she's a little older. I love her so much. Although she drives me a little crazy at times, I'm so glad she's here and a part of our family. It doesn't seem right if she wasn't here. I hope and pray constantly that she will live a long healthy life. I wish the same for Brianna.

Having a child die and then having one born 6 weeks before the year mark has made for a whirlwind of emotions. I could try to explain what it's like but I can't make it make sense. Oh do I have questions.

I'm really missing my Dylan today and there isn't a particular reason why....


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Biggest Loser

My friend Stacie and I wanted some motivation to lose weight. So we thought why not get a few more people involved and add in some money. Well today is the first weigh in. I'm definitely not at all pleased with my weight. Yes, I just had a baby, but I'm still carrying around the weight I gained when I was pregnant with Dylan. Hopefully this will be a good idea. I don't want to be too discouraged. I can't wait to see what happens in 8 weeks. Good luck to all those that joined us!

One Year

This weekend has been rough. It felt as if I was reliving each dreaded moment. I reread old texts that people sent or that I sent those two days. It felt so fresh and recent. It's hard to believe it's been a year.

So much has changed. I can't believe we have a new addition to our family. We should be a family of 5 but there are only 4 of us here. I know I've said it before but I wish Isabella would know her brother not just as a person from our memories or pictures.
My heart has been so heavy. My eyes hurt from the immense amount of tears that have flowed freely the past two days. Today we gathered with friends and some family to honor Dylan at the cemetery. We had cake and blew bubbles. It was simple but so special. I want to thank those that took time out of their day to come and support us. We know that there were many who blew bubbles today in honor of Dylan. Thank you! I look forward to getting those pictures to put in Dylan's angel scrapbook.

I miss Dylan. The pain is intense. I wish he was here to wrap my arms around to hug him. To see his toothless grin would make my day. I long for the day that we will see each other again. Like my sister in law said on her facebook status "we are one year closer to seeing him."

My mind is so scatterbrained right now. I have so much I want to type but the words are not coming smoothly.

I wish I had something more profound to say on this milestone, but its painful and hard. I miss my boy and the happiness and normalcy of life. I've somehow survived this past year. While it's been a blur and seems like a crazy dream, I'm still standing and breathing. While there are many many many bumps on my path, I know with the help from my Heavenly Father, support and love from friends and family, and my sweet boy cheering me on I'll be able to keep standing.

Miss you Dylan!!! I just wish I could give you the biggest hug, kiss and raspberry on your cheek. Keep laughing;)


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Dylan's Angel Day

I finally planned how we will honor Dylan on his angel day. If you would like the details let me know. I'm asking you to remember my sweet boy that day. Wherever you are, can you please blow bubbles on Sunday, May 29th? Dylan loved bubbles. If you happen to think of it, please take a picture of you and your family blowing bubbles and send it to me. It will go into Dylan's angel book.
I still can't believe it's almost been a year. What a crazy one it's been!

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6 weeks and 1 day

She's already fitting in just like her brother and sister. She wants to take over my bed. She started early;)


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This week

Let me first start off by saying that the reason I blog is for me. Also this post isn't directed towards anyone, nor am I mad or annoyed.

I blog for a way to get what I'm feeling off my chest. I don't blog for anyone but myself. There is a sense of "freedom" when I write. It's easier than writing in my journal sometimes. With my blog I do hope that it could be a tool to help others understand what someone whose child dies feels. I say that because over the past year I've had numerous people tell me they are worried about me because of what I write. I haven't quite figured out why people are worried and what about. I've also found it interesting that people tell me that I should "be happy". Sometimes I feel like I've failed at trying to explain the pain and anguish that comes with having a child die. It's not something that a mother can turn off and on. While, yes over the past 51 weeks there have been tears, anguish, screams and heartache, there have been smiles, laughter and joy. That's life. As a family as well as individuals we are living. Taking in each day and what it brings. There are things that can be controlled and other things that can't. Grief, I've learned doesn't come with an instruction manual. There isn't an expiration date for it. I've found it interesting that people put a timeline on grief. Who in society determines it? Do we think because "we must move on" or accept what comes in life and "deal the best we can" that one must "get over it", because until that happens a person isn't truly living or happy. The judgement that I've felt from so many can be so overwhelming. I know it's not intentional for the most part but why must people interject themselves and tell me what they think I should or could be doing. I'm doing the best I can with what I have. I'm TRYING. I feel that so many fail to realize that. I get up in the morning, smile sometimes while yet my soul and heart are aching, because afterall it would make too many people feel uncomfortable seeing me cry.

We are often told to focus on "the good" and not "the bad" in our lives. Well when it comes to Dylan's life how can I not talk about one without the other? Dylan's death is part of his life. When I talk about how I'm feeling it's a way for me to talk about my Dylan since I'm rarely given the opportunity. I still haven't figured out why so many people feel uncomfortable talking about those that have passed away. I guess maybe it's because there are so many unknowns when it comes to death. Talking about our loved one is a way to still feel connected to them.

I had a wonderful visit with my dear friend, Stacie today. We laugh, we cried and we talked about our kids. All of them. Those living and our angels, Janie and Dylan. We talked about our dreams, wishes, heartache, frustrations. One thing we talked about is how women who "lose" children are often revered after they themsleves die. Why is that? People seem to be more willing to talk about how great a woman was because she lived carrying the grief of having a child die and talk more about her child after she passes. I'm not looking to be told how "great" or "strong" I am. I'm looking for the opportunity to talk about my sweet boy, now while I'm living. He is real! While he isn't physically here, he's a part of our family. I'm ever so grateful to those that let me talk about Dylan and how I'm feeling. Some of those people didn't even know Dylan when he was alive. I hold a special place in my heart for those people. Who know who you are;) Thank you to those that still share Dylan moments with me through emails, phone calls or face to face contact. There aren't enough words to express my gratitude.

As the year mark is ever so quickly approaching, I hate it. I hate that I don't get to see my sweet boy every morning, I hate that his body is buried, I hate that I can't see his smile, hear his laugh or just hold him, I hate that Isabella will only know Dylan through stories and pictures, I hate that my family isn't complete. I'm sure some are worried that I have so much "hate ". Please don't be. It just comes with the territory. Without the bad how can I see the good. I can't say I love anything about Dylan dying but what I can say is that I'm grateful I got to be Dylan's mom, I'm grateful he is part of our family, I'm grateful for the knowledge that I will see him again, I'm grateful that I've met so many angel moms that have shown me the many ways to handle grief, I'm grateful for the friendships I've made and those that have been strengthened. I'm grateful for a loving Father in Heaven who I know is watching and caring for my son until we meet again.

Please remember my sweet boy this upcoming weekend. This week seems to already hard and it's only 1:55 Monday morning.
I still don't know how we will be honoring Dylan on his angel day but will keep you posted. Any helpers?

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Insanity

Well the last few weeks have been a blur. I remember crying A LOT. I actually do that everyday. I don't have postpartum depression. It's due to the lack of sleep, crazy hormones, and grieving. My longing to hold Dylan is intense right now. I miss him so much. I'm sure most will probably think I'm a little loony after this post but I have to get my feelings out.

Isabella is a sweet baby, but trying to figure her out is hard. I keep telling myself that if I could handle all that I did with Dylan, this little 8 pounder should be easy. But it's not. I'm finding myself wondering what the heck I'm doing most of the time. Isabella will fall asleep in her carseat on the way taking and getting Brianna from school. Other than that the past few days have SUCKED. I'm on the fence about nursing. I nursed Dylan and Brianna for 6 months. It wasn't too bad. This time around, I'm dreading it. I'm constantly going back and forth about nursing, pumping or giving her formula. Of course Kalen wants me to nurse because "it's best" and it's free. He of course isn't the one that has to do it. I'm hating it. There is the constant question in my mind, how much did she get, or did she get a full feeding. I know the indicator is the amount of diapers we change a day. Oh do I change plenty. This stage of having a baby is hard. Maybe if things were different, I would have more patience, but I don't. My son died, my 5 year old is craving attention from me, and my 5 week old is so very demanding. I know what I need and wish that Isabella would do those things. I'm not enjoying this very much. I can deal with lack of sleep but a crying baby is so frustrating right now. So there are many times we just all cry together, me because I don't know what Isabella wants and know Brianna wants attention from me, Brianna because her brother died and wants her mom's arms free and Isabella.....who knows!

Motherhood

Due to it being Mother's Day today this topic is on my mind. I remember when I found out I was going to be a mom. Its was Thanksgiving 2002. Kalen and I had only been married for 3 1/2 months. Little did I know what being a mom meant. Having a baby seemed so great. I mean they are so small and cute. Little did I know all the lessons I would learn. The following are just some of the lessons Motherhood has brought to my life.

When Dylan was born I learned patience, that babies can be 10 pounds when they are born, how to be an advocate, medical info, how to appreciate the small things in life, that I can function on an average of 4 hours of sleep a night for years and how to love unconditionally.

When Brianna was born, I learned what it was like not to have a team of doctors for my baby, what all those around me had experienced having a "typical" baby, a sense of calmness, strength, that a white noise machine was a fabulous creation, and a greater sense of love.

Now that Isabella has been born I've learned that I can love more than I thought my heart would allow, what peace can truly feel like (at times), my Heavenly Father's love for me, that it is possible that you can change at least 4 diapers in 30 mins and that I'm needed for one more precious soul. Also I can survive on less sleep than I ever thought possible. (not too well though)

I'm grateful for the blessing of being a mom. I love my three kids so much. They each have touched my life in ways I never thought possible. Although I'm exhausted physically and mentally right now due to lack of sleep, hormone imbalance, doubt, frustration, and anxiety I wouldn't change being a mom to my three kids. I know that they were chosen for me and that I have so much to learn from all three of them in the years to come.

Today is a very bittersweet day for me. I was able to hug and love on two of my kids. I can't wait for the day that I can to that with all three.

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Love

The amount of love I feel for this little girl amazes me. I'm blessed to be her mom.


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11 months

As each month continues to go by, I'm still amazed that it's been one more month. I can't believe that next month will mark the year mark. One whole year without him. It's hard to fathom. It's so overwhelming to think about how long it will be until I see him again. That part is really hard for me. I miss Dylan so much. My heart still aches and has a huge hole in it. Trying to make sense of what our family has been through this past year is hard to wrap my head around.

I still haven't found my "new normal". Now with a newborn here, I feel so lost. I don't know what I'm doing. I pray that Isabella will be patient with me as I continue to figure out what I'm doing.

I feel so bad for Brianna. I know she needs more and I just don't have it in me. Recovering from my c-section is hard. Being exhausted makes it harder. And grieving makes it so extremely hard.

I feel like I have a lot on my plate that must get done daily. Most things don't get done daily. But I try to do the most important.

Sorry this post is all over the place. I have a lot on my mind and heart today.


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Isabella

I can't believe it's taken me almost 3 weeks to do a post about Isabella's birth. She was born on Sunday, April 10. She weighed 7 lbs 12 ozs. She's my smallest baby. We love her so much!

I can already tell she's gonna give us a run for our money. My doctor examined me right before taking me back to the OR. Isabella decided to flip back into a breech position. I couldn't believe it. I was so nervous when they were trying to give me my spinal. I just remember shaking. It was really cold in the OR.
They got me all prepped and then Kalen came in. I was so nervous. There were so many thoughts running through my head. I was just praying that all would be okay when Isabella came into this world feet first. I heard her cry and a slight sense of peace washed over me. I kept asking Kalen if she was okay and he said yes. She was shown to me from across the room and out of the corner of my eyes I saw her. She looked like Dylan. I can't explain the feeling that I felt. I was so mixed with emotions. When they finally brought her over to me to see her I was finally able to relax a little. She is beautiful. I instantly felt the love I know my Father in Heaven has for me. Our family has been blessed with this sweet baby girl. I just keep thinking that she's just fresh from heaven.








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10 months

I couldn't sleep last night. Maybe it is because I'm 37 weeks pregnant. think it had more to do with the fact that my heart and mind knew what today was. Oh how I miss Dylan. It's just not the same without him here. Our family isn't the same. My heart is aching so badly today. I just wish I could see him and hold him. I was looking at one of his pictures on the fridge this morning and couldn't stop looking at his hands and fingers. Why those stuck out to me today, I don't know. I miss his hands. I miss holding his precious hands in mine. I made a mistake, watching Army Wives on my DVR this morning. I knew someone was going to die. I just didn't think it would be the son of one of the main characters. I know it was just a TV show, but the feelings I felt the day Dylan died, the planning of the funeral, and burying him came rushing back. I'm not in a good place today. My heart is aching and the tears flow freely. I just wish with every fiber of my being that Dylan were here. I'm still in shock that it's been 10 months since that dreaded day, when I woke up to my world crashing down.

Another week

I still live my life in terms of weeks. Our family's time line of events is always referred back to the weekend Dylan died. I've been told that it won't always be that way. I'm not sure I believe it yet. I'm ponder how we've made it to almost 10 months without our bubba here. There is still a fog or haze that I feel I'm living in. There hasn't been a lot of sunshine shining through.

I miss him. With the arrival of Isabella so soon, the weight is building on my heart and chest. It kinda reminds me the first time I can remember going to the beach and watching the waves come in and out. I remember being warned to be careful while playing in the water because a big wave could come and I could get pulled under. I remember the crashing waves against my legs. The water seemed to rise with each wave. I remember the excitement. Flash forward to now, I can't see the wave coming but I can feel it. There isn't a sense of excitement coming like there was as a kid. Now, it's anxiety. Lots of it. I can't control this wave. It not something that I can just say, "it'll be okay or there is no need to worry." I have NO idea how it's going to be. That's the scary part. While I am anxious to meet our newest baby, I am so nervous that something will go wrong. I'm human after all. This anxiety I feel isn't something that I can just turn off. It's there. It's real. Being "anxious" pretty much everyday of my life since May 28, 2010 is very hard. I don't like being this way. It just comes with the territory. I worry something will happen to Kalen and Brianna the most. Kalen jokingly asks if I know something but just haven't shared all the details to him. Death is so real for me and our family. While I have experienced having loved ones die, Dylan's death is just so different. It's so consuming and seems to find it's way into our everyday lives.

Dylan has missed out on so much. From little things to big things. Brianna playing soccer, Brianna going to kindergarten, Brianna losing her first two teeth, a new sibling coming. Then there are the everyday things he has missed. I'm sure he's watching down on us but its not the same. He's not here.

Waking up at 4am everyday is my time that I really reflect on Dylan. That was my time to get up with him. It's amazing how my body still does it automatically. Oh how I wish I could just walk into his room right now. Scoop him up and rock him, sing to him, see him. I loved watching him sleep. He looked so peaceful. I wish I could feel some of that peace again...........

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Unraveling

That's the only word that I can think of at this moment to describe what I'm feeling. My world is spinning out of control fast.

I found out yesterday that the baby is breech, my doctor can't do my c-section due to a back injury she has and my c-section date is sooner. This wasn't "the plan".

Of course I looked up breech babies online and it's says that there may be a birth defect and that's why some babies don't turn. I need her to turn. I need her to be healthy. I need her to be perfect. I need a lot of things right now and feel so alone, frustrated, and scared. I've had an underlying feeling that something was going to go wrong. Hopefully this is all that it is. My mind, body and heart can't take much more.

Anyone have any luck turning a breech baby at 36 weeks? I need ideas.

Also please do me a favor. Don't ask how I'm doing the next three weeks. Tears flow instantly when asked that question, and the sobbing begins. Just smile at me or give me a hug.


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9 Months

I wanted to do a post on the 28th but I tried to push the overwhelming emotions back. I knew that if I blogged they would surface and I'd be more of a mess than I was that day.

I miss Dylan so much. It's still so strange that he isn't here sitting in his wheelchair everyday. How am I ever going to get use to this? I wish that I could look over and see him sitting there smiling and laughing.

A year ago today we had gone to Kaiser to have a few tests done on Dylan. I remember him laughing before they put him under.


(I miss that grin, more than words can describe)

I never thought that in just a few months from then he wouldn't be here. The test results had shown that his seizure meds were causing a lot of inflammation to his liver and intestines. That explained why he was so unhappy for the prior 9 months. Since we did the tests, we were able to change his meds. It was great to have our happy Dylan back. He was happy. Content. Life was good. It was hard (in a different way from now), but it was life. I miss everything that comes with raising Dylan. I still don't feel like myself. I don't like that I can cry at nothing. Tears are triggered at random things. I feel like I'm going crazy sometimes. I get so jealous when I see families in tact. I struggle that it's not fair that other people have all their kids here. Safe in their homes. Living. Breathing. I don't mean that in a bad way but it's so hard. When people see our family, they don't see all of us. I desperately want people to know that I have an awesome kid that passed away. He had the best laugh, personality, smile, and countenance about him. There are so many people that I wish could have known him first hand. He's AWESOME!

Back to the 9 month mark. I can't believe it. Has it really been that long since I held my sweet boy? I look at his pictures and still have that feeling that he has to have been real. Meaning that we have his things, photos, hair that we cut at the hospital before we said our goodbyes, handprints, clothes and memories of him, but yet he isn't here. It's so hard to process that he isn't here. While I feel the initial shock wearing off, there has come a whole new set of emotions and thoughts. We are rapidly approaching the birth of our baby and the year mark of Dylan's death. How am I suppose to make sense of that? I want to do something meaningful for his year mark, but am going to be recovering from a c-section. I was thinking of creating a race in honor of Dylan and making a donation to one of the many places that served Dylan. I wouldn't be able to participate so maybe I'll hold off till the 2nd year mark. I'm stuck on this. It bothers me that I don't have anything planned. I need help. I want people to remember him. I NEED them to.

I have so many worries. I struggle everyday. I just told another person about Dylan's death today. She of course got teary eyed. I shared with her how I feel crazy and she told me that I always seem put together. I guess looks are deceiving.

A thought that keeps coming to my mind is: "How am I going to care for this new little one being sent to our family?" We've waited so long for her and at the same time my heart wants my son back. While I am excited to meet her, I'm terrified of so many things. How long will she live? Will she be okay? Will she know that we love her? Will she feel out of place as she gets older since she never got a chance to know Dylan? These are just some of the things that are constantly playing in my head. While everyone's first response is that everything will turn out okay, I beg to differ. I know from first hand experience that things can go wrong. We had no reason to believe that Dylan wouldn't be a healthy, "typical" boy when he was born. I wouldn't have changed anything about him. I joined a whole new world when he was born. After all I went to Holland instead of Italy. (There's a poem that describes what it's like after finding out your child isn't the "typical" kid. You special needs families know what I'm talking about) I also didn't think when I woke up at 4am that Friday, it would be the last time I would see the Dylan I knew. Vibrant. Living. Breathing.

He's taught me so much and I know that I will continue to learn from him. The sense of worry is constantly there. Is Brianna going to be okay? How long do we get to have her here? Will she out live us? I have now met a few families who have had multiple children die. Just because Dylan died, doesn't means our family is exempt from anything else bad happening. There are times that I just wish I could have a guarantee that my daugthers will out live me. I don't think I could bury another child.

I think this has got to be one of the most jumbled posts. My mind is all over the place today. Pray for us.

It's been awhile

Friday evening I got a text from my friend Stacie asking me if I was doing anything fun last night and if I want to go get a pedicure. I hadn't had one since the day before Dylan's funeral. So of course I wanted (needed) one and since I can't see my feet due to the watermelon I call my belly, I needed them to look pretty for others. Plus I was holding onto a Christmas gift I had received that needed to be redeemed. (Thanks Brian & Lori). It was the first time in almost 9 months that I felt a twinge of enjoyment. It felt foreign, strange and good at the same time. If you need a good laugh, picture two pregnant women, one about to give birth and one a few weeks behind walking into the nail place together. We definitely are a sight to see.

After our pedicure we went for a walk in the freezing cold night. In a way it was invigorating and then painful at the same time. I started having contractions so that wasn't good. Stacie was suppose to be the one feeling those. Resting made them stop.

Getting together with Stacie is always therapeutic for me. Since we both have had children die, it gives us an opportunity to talk about them and how we are feeling. Although she's 2 1/2 years farther along grieving she gets me. I feel safe sharing my feelings knowing that probably at one time or another she's felt similar. So to Stacie, I'm so glad we are friends. It sucks that we have to be on this path of having a child die but I'm glad we are on it together.

This morning I was able to go get my hair done. Kalen had surprised me with a gift certificate to do so. He knew I had been wanting to get it done but just couldn't bring myself to go and do it. I needed some forcing. So this morning I went and got it done. I'm pleased with it and it brightened my spirit for a few moments. Keep in mind Fridays and Saturdays are hard for me. It marks another week since Dylan has been gone. So to me the fact that I was able to go and do those things is huge.

After I was done at the salon, I met up with my longtime childhood friend, Meghan. We've known each other our entire lives. We went to Olive Garden for lunch. I have been craving it so much lately. Those that know me, know I love Italian food. We had a great time chatting and catching up. Thank you Meghan for the laughs and conversations. The waiter was AWESOME and gave me a ton of breadsticks and the after dinner mints to take home. We had great service. I guess it pays to take a pregnant lady to a restaurant.

So although the 9 month mark is coming up on Monday, being with friends has helped make this weekend a little more bearable. I felt a small glimpse of sunlight in my life today and am grateful for that.



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It's been an emotional day

Tears are flowing heavily today. I've been sobbing so much. We removed Dylan's things from his room. Dylan's room is so different now. All that remains in there is his bed. It's so unfair and isn't right that we had to move his stuff out. All though his things aren't in there I feel like it will always be Dylan's room. There are so many emotions and thoughts that come along with that.

I'm feeling a stab to my heart. It's so different in there. I'm struggling with the thought of his things not being in there. This is so hard. The pain is extreme today.


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It's been one of those days

Not a lot got accomplished today. I have no motivation. I've been in a funk all week. The rain isn't helping.

I did clean the hall bathroom since Brianna has been nagging me about it for this past week. She said she wanted to help. Of course her helping lasted all of 5 minutes. It's better than nothing.

The plan for this weekend is to keep cleaning, put the crib together, and get stuff organized. Hopefully all of it will get done.



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A rushing wave

I woke up early this morning with my heart pounding and tears streaming down my face. I relived my worst nightmare but this time it was Brianna who died. The intense emotions I felt the day Dylan was rushed to the hospital and the moment he was pronounced "brain dead" came rushing back. I ran into Brianna's room to make sure she was there and breathing. To my relief she was there and sleeping well.

Grief affects me in so many ways. Whether I'm awake or sleeping, it's there. It's always there. It's hard trying to live when there is a constant weight on my heart and mind. It makes life extremely difficult.

I miss Dylan so much. My life seems so surreal. I feel like I'm watching myself live from a distant. It's so strange to describe.

Hopefully tonight's dreams will be different.

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Just another day

I've been wanting to blog since Friday but it just didn't happen. It was a combination of grief and pregnancy. I can't believe that 8 months have passed since Dylan died. I still feel like I'm living in a dream or a life that isn't mine.

I miss Dylan so much. Its not the same without him here smiling and laughing. I have 2 kids and 1 on the way and people only see 1. People who meet us now, don't know the awesome kid that was a part of our family until 8 months ago. He isn't physically here and it sucks.

I keep wondering when the sun will shine a little more brightly in my life but it hasn't.

I've been trying to think of the words that describe what's going through my mind and how I'm feeling. None seem to fit appropriately.

Kalen and I were talking last night about how it seems like a lifetime ago Dylan was here but at the same time not that long ago. I can't believe in just a few short months we will have a new baby and then the year mark of Dylan's death will be here. The tears follow just trying to comprehend this. It hurts so badly. I miss him.

I can't think clearly. I can't accomplish the tasks that I have planned each day. My house needs a good cleaning. I have to organize things, finish projects, purge and donate. All these things I want to do, but physically can't. It's not like one of those times that you don't want to so it is put off. I physically and mentally can't bring myself to do any of those things. I know there are a few people, based on the things they've said to me, that feel I should be able to do these things since "it isn't so fresh". What those people fail to realize is that 8 months is still fresh. This isn't something that I can put in the back of my mind and deal with it later. Dylan's death has changed me in ways I didn't even think possible. It changed everything about our family, our individual selves, our relationship dynamics, our identity's and the list just goes on and on.

There are so many times I wish Dylan was here just for the little things. I always thought he'd be here for Brianna to be in kindergarten. I mean why wouldn't I have thought any other way. This thought really affects me.

I'm dreading those first family pictures after Isabella is born. All we will have is a photo of Dylan to have in those pictures. It's heartbreaking.

Our family didn't feel complete before Dylan died. We had been trying for so long to have another child. Now he's gone and it will never feel complete. I dread the years to come.

My mind is all over the place today. Everything is jumbled. The tears are flowing like a flood. Where is the peace?

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Can't sleep

I have a ton of thoughts running through my head and can't go back to sleep. One of my thoughts is why I'm even awake. Oh yeah, it's the baby that kicks me all night and I can't seem to get comfortable when she kicks. Or it might be Kalen's snoring. (which he says he doesn't) Regardless I'm awake.

Lately, I feel like I'm in a fog. I can't seem to see clearly. I've lost my map. At times I feel like I'm losing my mind. I really don't like this sense of disorientation. Not sure what I thought it would be like almost 8 months without Dylan here. It's still so incredibly difficult. The weight of grief is something I've grown accustom to in my daily life, and I don't like it one bit.

Yesterday, while trying to pick a book to read for Brianna's class, I found some of the books Dylan made with his teacher over the past few years. The grief became so overwhelming. It swept over me like a rushing wave unexpectedly. I felt as though I couldn't breathe and I was tossed about with all my emotions. Tears streamed down my face. How can this be normal? I struggle with that everyday that my baby boy isn't here. It doesn't seem right. It's not fair. I know everyone will tell you life isn't fair, but losing a child is the most "unfair" thing that I have experienced.

I was just telling my friend Stacie that it still feels so unreal at times. There are moments when I think he'll come home at any minute. And I just wait. I know that he isn't but it doesn't change what my heart wants and aches for.

On Sunday, I had decided to try and empty one of his dresser drawers. Not because I feel ready but out of pure desperation in an attempt to get ready for Isabella's arrival. I figured that since I just started my last trimester it would be a good idea. Plus I know how hard it is because I've attempted this task more than once.
Tears streamed down my face as I attempted to put his shirts in a clear plastic storage tub. I sobbed. It just doesn't seem right. Taking his things out of the drawer was excruciating. I remember putting his things in his drawers the very first time. It seems like a lifetime ago. He should be here. There were clothes he had never worn because I had just gotten them 2 weeks or so before he died. I held some of the shirts so tightly trying to savor every memory that came flooding back to the times he had worn them. I had my favorites and and those were the hardest to take out of the drawer an put in a tub.

It's heart-wrenching to think that one day there won't be Dylan's things out and about and still spread about in our home. Not seeing his chair everyday with him in it in the family room sucks. Or seeing his feeding pump that was taken so quickly after he died. Or the wipes that I still instinctively go and grab to wipe Brianna's hands with. Brianna does the same thing too. It's been almost 8 months and yet we still do things as if he is here.

I know his items are just "things", but it's not right that they are here an he isn't. One day he was here and the next gone. Kalen and I struggle with what to do with his things. I feel like if we remove them, even to a storage bin, it will be like he never existed, if that makes any sense. There are so many things that just can't be parted with.

This road I'm traveling on is full of so many bumps, hills and mountains. There are days I want to stop and turn back but I know I can't. There is no turning back the time to the night of May 27th when Dylan was here, laughing, smiling, living. Or even at 4am on May 28th for me, doing our middle of the night routine. Who would have known that would be the last time I'd get to see him full of life. No warning and in an instant the Dylan I knew, would be gone. I still can ever so clearly see his unresponsive body lay on the carpet as Kalen gave him CPR. Oh how I wish things turned out differently. Seeing Dylan like that sucks and has been engraved in my memory. The last memories I have as a complete family are with Dylan on life support. I really wish it wasn't that way.

I long for the day when we will be reunited and together............




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Pregnancy

Why must you be so hard on my body and emotions?? I'm not complaining, really. I made a promise to myself I wouldn't.

I do have to admit this is one of the easiest and hardest pregnancy I've had. I think being pregnant in my 30's has been a ton harder than it was in my 20's.

Our plan was to have all our kids by the time I was 30. That didn't happen. Who would have thought......

I have so much to do before our baby is born. Yup I have a list. Thought I'd share.

1. Have overhead lighting installed in the girl's room.

2. Move furniture & toys out of Brianna's room into Dylan's.

3. Move some furniture out of Dylan's room to make room for the stuff in Brianna's room.

4. Put the crib together.

5. Get bedding for the crib

6. Get a TON of baby stuff. This part seems so overwhelming since it's been so long since there has been one in our house 24/7. Carseat, stroller, infant tub, diaper bag, and everything else......

7. Go through and get rid of "stuff" that we don't need.

8. Try to get caught up on the 6 years I'm behind on scrapbooking so Isabella will have a baby book.

9. Whatever else I can't think of at the moment.

While the list doesn't seem too long it's A LOT to do. If they were all "independent" things, it might not be so bad but there are a few things that are dependent on other things getting done first.

Let the madness begin!


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It's Friday

That means one thing. My emotions are very intense. My body is more sluggish compared to the other days of the week. My heart hurts. I'm more confused than my new normal. Saturdays are extremely difficult to. These days mark another week since I've last held Dylan. Most people look forward to the weekend. I don't! It just another reminder.

So while I'm not in the best mood I figured I might as well blog to see if it will help at least release some of the annoyance I'm feeling toward others.

Since people still tell me they want to help but are not sure what to do or say I figured I'd make a short list of do and don'ts.

1. Don't tell me you are sorry Dylan died. You did not cause his death. The word "sorry" is the most overused word I feel, our society uses.

2. Dinners are still appreciated. Just call me and say you had extras and want to bring it by. Don't ask me if you can make me dinner. That part isn't helpful.

3. Let us talk about Dylan and our feelings about him. His death isn't the only thing about him. We love talking about him and what life was like when he was here.

4. Please think about what you say before you open your mouth. I know we've all put our foot in our mouths at one point or another but just stop and think.

5. Call, text or email often. Don't wait for us to do it. We might not answer the phone or get back to you right way but knowing that people still care is one of the things that help. We feel that most have moved on. While we know it's true, we haven't.

That's my list for today!


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Wasted

I started a post and the dang app froze so l lost what I wrote. Now my emotions are all out of whack and I am emotionally drained.


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$5.90 trip to Target

Yup you read that right. I went to Target after picking Brianna up from school. I got (3) 15oz boxes of Kashi GoLean Crisp cereal, (2) bottles 8 oz Ortega taco sauce, (1) 10 oz Vaseline lotion with bonus (30 Q-tips) and (8) 6 oz Yoplait Strawberry Yogurt all for $5.90. This was one of my best trips to Target!!!!



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Missing Dylan

I'm missing him A LOT today. My heart is aching. I miss seeing that toothless grin every morning when I wake up. I miss giving him kisses. My friend, grief, has been having a very heavy presence lately. My days just aren't the same.

I wish I could hear his laugh, hold him, smell him, see his toes, hold his hands, give him kisses and so much more.





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Starting the new year off right

It's been a while since I did a post like this but I had to share this. I went to Rite Aid and spent $7.68 on 2 Tide 100fl oz. laundry detergents. Each one normally costs $17.69 at my Rite Aid store, but with a sale, manufacturer coupons and a bunch of +UP rewards that's how I did it. I also walked out with a $5 +UP reward to use on my next visit. This was a highlight of my morning.



I have so many of you that want coupon lessons I've decided that I'm going to start a monthly class. Let me know if you are interested and I'll get you all the details.

Happy New Years!


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