Update on our rainbow babies

Our sweet little babies came very unexpectedly at 33 weeks and 4 days gestation.  I had placenta abruption and was hemorrhaging so they took the babies via emergency c-section.  Although they were both over 5 pounds, their lungs were still very underdeveloped.  They were in the NICU for 3 weeks which was incredibly hard and stressful.  But, they are now home, healthy and happy sweet babies and we feel so so blessed!!!  They are 3 months old now and I can hardly believe it when I look back at these pictures and remember how far they have come.  They have brought tremendous joy to our family.

Some have asked if my pain has lessened since having the babies.  My answer is no.  Absolutely not.  These babies did NOT replace my Lincoln in any way.  And if anything I think I miss Lincoln more.  I want so badly for these babies to know him and to grow up with him.  I wish he was here to be with us as we learn to adjust to life with two new babies in our family.  I'd love to watch him and how he reacts to having two new siblings around.  And I have strangely felt at times like I am missing something, which I haven't felt in a long time.  I'll put our seven year old to bed, and get the babies asleep, and then I'll come down stairs and wonder around aimlessly because I think I'm suppose to be doing something else . . . and then I realize I am.  I am supposed to be putting my FOUR and a half year old to bed too.  But he's not here for me to do that.  I feel joy from these new lives and I feel SO blessed that they are in our family.  But mostly I feel busy.  And tired.  But the pain and the grief is still there.  That will never go away.

baby boy above, baby girl below.

A Double Rainbow

I often read other mothers' blogs who have lost children at a young age.  I kept reading about rainbow babies and decided to look it up.  

I loved this description.  

"A rainbow baby is a miracle baby conceived after the loss of another child.  Rainbow babies are the understanding that the beauty of a rainbow does not negate the ravages of the storm.  When a rainbow appears, it does not mean that the storm never happened or that the family is not still dealing with the aftermath.  What it means is that something beautiful and full of light has appeared in the midst of the darkness and the clouds.  Storm clouds may still loom over but the rainbow provides a counterbalance of color, energy, and much needed hope."

I feel so blessed with two sweet rainbow babies!  We get a double rainbow.  My pregnancy has been tough but so worth it.  It has given our family hope and something amazing to look forward to.  I'm 31 weeks, so only a few more weeks to go (well . . . probably at least 7 or so!).  We now have such a different perspective of how precious life is that we try so hard to enjoy each day.

And yet- just like the description above, these precious rainbow babies don't take away our hurt or the pain we feel daily from missing our son.  I sometimes just wish I could grow him again in my belly.  

Easter

Our last Easter with Lincoln

Easter is another tender holiday for me.  I feel blessed to have the knowledge that I will see my son again someday, and yet it doesn't make me miss him any less.  A few weeks ago a friend of mine asked me to write down my thoughts about the Plan of Salvation https://www.lds.org/topics/plan-of-salvation so I thought I'd share them on here too, as I feel it pertains to Easter and why we celebrate this special day.

My testimony of the plan of salvation has significantly increased throughout the last two years since Lincoln died. I feel like before he passed away I felt grateful to know that my family would be together forever and that when we died we would still be able to be there in heaven together. But it was more of a distant goal- as we are taught- it's important to follow the gospel so that we all can live together forever. And now that lesson is much more real to me. It's my reality. My son has already left this earth and since he died before the age of 8 there is no question of where he will end up. He gets an automatic ticket to the celestial kingdom. He is already guaranteed that, it's a done deal! So what about me? Where does that leave me? Suddenly the importance of holding onto the iron rod is even more important. Its not a distant goal or something I should "get around to". I need to make sure that I'm living my life daily how my Heavenly Father wants me to so that I CAN live with my son again someday.  It makes me realize all the more how I now need to do what I'm suppose to do. And not waste time. And not wait until tomorrow or the the next day.

I feel soooo blessed to know exactly where my son is right now and that he's most likely keeping busy being an amazing missionary on the other side. It's a huge comfort to know that if I do what I'm supposed to do that I WILL be with him again. I feel so lucky to have the knowledge that I do about the plan of salvation- to know where I came from and where I'm going. It doesn't lessen my pain and the grief I feel from missing my son. But I do feel peace and comfort that the Lord is in control and that he had a plan for each of us. And that was Lincoln's plan. I often feel it's unfair that Lincoln was taken so early from me. That his life was cut short and because of that I am suffering. I feel saddened that we won't be able to raise him and be the best parents possible to him. But that is what I wanted and maybe wasn't what was best for Lincoln and his plan.

I feel like when learning about the plan of salvation we hear so much about where we are going but here's a funny little story about the preexistence: two days after Lincoln passed away I went and met with our stake patriarch who happens to be our close friend and in our ward. I poured out my heart and soul to him about how it wasn't fair that Lincoln was taken so early and that I was angry and that wasn't a good plan and why did Heavenly Father do this. This sweet man gently reminded me that I don't remember or know what went on in the preexistence before coming to earth. He said "Joie who knows! Maybe the Lord said he would send you Lincoln but that he would only be with you for 3 months and you and Lincoln negotiated he could stay for 2 years!"  I said "um no- I would have never agreed to that short of a time!!" :) ...but he's right- who knows! Maybe I did. Maybe that really was Lincoln's plan and he was willing to do that and then I too agreed to that plan, even though I knew it would be hard and that it would hurt a lot. It's NOT my plan- it's Lincoln's. And I feel blessed to have this testimony of the plan of salvation.

On really difficult days I also try and remember all the little tender mercies the Lord showed to me right around the time that Lincoln passed away. There are so many things that I look back on now that were perfectly lined up to make things "go more smoothly", it's pretty amazing. And when I think of those things I realize the Lord loves me and tried to make things go the way they needed to for me to feel at peace about things.

Each day is still hard.  I miss him every minute of every day, still.  It doesn't get easier, you just get use to it.  And I am grateful to know that I will see my Savior, and my sweet son again someday in Heaven.

Happy Birthday!! Happy Pinwheel Day!!!

Lincoln on his 1 year birthday

Today Lincoln would have been 4 years old. Which is so hard to believe. His birthday is bitter sweet to me.  We have amazingly thoughtful friends and family who help make this day so special each year, and yet at the same time I'd love to sleep the day away and pretend it's not happening. Each year we have decided that his birthday is "Pinwheel Day", where we do some act of service to honor Lincoln and "help other's heart spin!" I haven't yet had the strength or mental capacity to organize a brilliant service project but maybe one day I will. For now we make pinwheels and pass them out at the school and a park to make people smile. For now that's all I can do.  However, I am always overwhelmed by the love and support we feel from our friends and family who go the extra mile to help honor Lincoln on this special day.

Here are how some of our sweet family and friends honored Lincoln on his birthday:
- volunteered at a daycare for low income families, cleaning and playing with the children
- baked cookies to cheer someone up
- took pinwheels to class to share with teachers and students
- donated toys to a local children's hospital
- shared Lincoln's story with many

 Someone decorated our street again this year with pinwheels and left a sign in our yard.

 Jezelle wearing her pinwheel clip to school

 the kids at my clinic decorated pinwheels

 Jezelle and her cousin passed out pinwheels at the park.  It was extra windy that afternoon which was fun to watch all the kids run around with their pinwheels spinning!

 The Kindering Center lined the pathway with pinwheels.

 Lincoln's ice cream birthday cake.

 Amazing pinwheel cookies and cupcakes were sent to us!

On the afternoon of Lincoln's birthday we went and put pinwheels by his grave at the cemetery. Every time I go there I feel I'm having an out of body experience. I think I've said that before. It's like a terrible nightmare and at any second I am going to wake up and all this terribleness will be gone. Our daughter was in a silly mood- probably trying to lighten our moods a little and we couldn't get a pic if we had tried all day!! But it made me smile.  It's such a strange part of our life, going to the cemetery.  Our daughter will just grow up with memories of going there often, which is so weird to me, and yet she will think nothing of it.  I wouldn't say it's the most peaceful thing to do with a 7 year old but at least she helps keep the mood light.  And there is an etiquette to being there as well, which she is learning.  I realized this when I heard Shane say, "Don't step on the headstones!  It's disrespectful".  Oh dear.  Welcome to our life.  It's just so strange.  And sad.

Lincoln loved ice cream so we went and bought a delicious ice cream cake and celebrated his birthday with my family.  It was a nice day, where we felt so much love and support from others.  But I'm so glad it's over.

After that we went to get an ice cream cake from Cold Stone.

A dear friend of mine made this adorable movie that I LOVE!!!

2 Years

" If you know someone who has lost a child, and you're afraid to mention them because you think you might make them sad by reminding them that they died- you're not reminding them. They didn't forget they died. What you're reminding them of is that you remembered that they lived, and that is a great gift" - Elizabeth Edwards. 

Today it has been two years since we found our sweet baby boy in his crib, not breathing. It's been two years of learning to live with grief by my side, and learning what it is like to always feel as if I'm forgetting something when leaving the house. (Oh that's right, my son!). My arms and my heart often feel empty. And yet somehow we've continued to live; through loving and supportive friends and family, and a very merciful God. 

I've kind of been dreading this day for awhile now. And in reality it's actually not much differerent than every other day. I don't feel more sad today then I did yesterday.  And I haven't sat around and been extra sad just because it's the anniversary of my son's death. But yes, it does bother me that it's been two years since we said goodbye to our son, for tomorrow we will have lived longer without him than we did with him. And that is just not fair.  And it hurts a lot. 

And although we feel so blessed to have two precious babies on the way, and a healthy 7 year old daughter that keeps us on our toes, for today my heart is tender and I will take a moment to pause, reflect, and feel extra sad.  I could almost write a book of all the lessons I've learned within these past two years, how I see life through a different set of eyes, how I've grown into a stronger and more compassionate person and seen so many tender mercies given to our family from the Lord.  But all of those things do not go without saying that it's been hard in just as many ways. And I still miss my Lincoln every second of every day. 

I've said this many times before but I am forever grateful for all the amazing life lessons that my son taught me in his two short years on earth. He taught me more than I ever could have taught him. And for that I am eternally grateful. 

I think as time goes on people expect (or assume) that we have healed. That it's ok now, or that it should be ok. That since we see all the blessings that we've been given, by having Lincoln as part of our family, that all of that makes it better. And makes it ok. But it doesn't.  The grief is always there.  I can’t go around it. I can't go over it, or under it or avoid it. It's just next to me and present, and I must continue to live through it, again and again. The loss and the heartache continue.  But at the same time, I choose to live. I live for my daughter, and my husband and my unborn children. And for my friends and family who have walked down this dark path with me. And I choose to see happiness and joy in each and every day, which is another life lesson Lincoln taught me very early on. We love you Lincoln. To the moon and back. 

Changes

We have a digital picture frame in our kitchen that has lots of pictures loaded up of Lincoln and they rotate every 5 seconds or so.  I love to look at those pictures throughout my day and even though I've seen them a trillion times they never get old.  Sometimes I just want to freeze a picture and stare at it. I so often wish I could reach inside the picture and kiss him.  This picture is one of my very favorites. (but I think I feel that way about any pictures of Lincoln).

We always knew we wanted more kids so when Lincoln passed away it was a no-brainer that we'd try and have another child.  We just had no idea it would take so long.  I had an ectopic pregnancy a few months after Lincoln passed away and that was followed by 2 miscarriages and a failed IVF cycle.  I often struggled to understand why we couldn't get pregnant or why my body wouldn't hold onto a viable embryo.  It was always especially hard when our daughter asked when I was going to have a baby in my tummy and why she didn't have other brothers and sisters.  She continues to miss Lincoln on a DAILY basis.  He is never forgotten or far from her mind.  Sometimes we laugh about what a funny little boy he was and sometimes we cry because we miss being able to watch him learn and grow.  She remembers things that I have started to forget- just little things, like how he would sit on his daddy's shoulders and stick his little wet fingers into his ears.  Thank goodness for our daughter, who helps us remember how to laugh and continue to live life.  I wonder if she will ever know what an important roll she has played in our lives throughout these past 2 years.

I felt that if we weren't able to have more kids I would eventually (maybe) come to terms with it but I just couldn't accept why Jezelle would not be blessed to have other siblings.  It seemed so unfair to her.  I was fine suffering but I didn't want her to suffer.  After the failed IVF last spring I kind of let go of  it all and realized if it was meant to be then it would be!  It was clearly not in my hands and not I nor the doctors had any control over it.  We had genetic testing done on all the viable embryos prior to implantation so with that I was "guaranteed" a 70% success rate of getting pregnant.  Pretty amazing odds considering I had less then a 10% chance of getting pregnant spontaneously every month. When that IVF failed I realized even more so how it's not up to me.  I can't control it so I needed to let it go.  And then in October I suddenly was pregnant . . . with TWINS!  And that's been fun and we are SOOOO thrilled and excited- definitely something our entire family is looking forward to.  We feel sooooo blessed and we feel our prayers have been answered.  But I also now see more clearly why the timing (once again!) was arranged just perfectly by God.  He knew when the time was right and I just needed to have faith in that.  I don't know what is best for me and my family.  I think I do, but I don't.  God does though and I wish I could just have more faith and patience in His plan.

This pregnancy has been hard, for many reasons and I understand now that I wasn't really ready two years ago to have another child yet.  I'm obviously much more emotional when pregnant so that's been tough and I've been very very sick!  I've also needed time to heal from some pretty major fears that developed when Lincoln died. And with a pregnancy comes more questions of how many kids I have and how old they are and 'oh boy- you are going to have your hands full with twins!' ... Blah blah. And I can't emphasize how thrilled I am to be blessed with TWO more babies in our family.  But that doesn't change or lessen the pain I feel from missing Lincoln and it never will.  No one can replace him or help make the hurt go away.  And it's been hard to think about changing his bedroom; putting away his clothes and replacing it with newborn sizes, making it a new bedroom where new memories will be created. Ones without Lincoln here to be included in. Ouch. Those things hurt. And how will we teach our new babies about their brother Lincoln?  How will that look when Jezelle remembers him perfectly and the twins won't know him at all?  I know that it will work out when we need to cross that bridge and it will be just fine. But these are the things I wasn't equipped to deal with even a year ago. And so again, timing is everything. And I need to have faith that things are meant to be.

Time

I haven't posted in 5 months.  I don't even know why.  I think about it all the time and think of all the things I want to say.  And then I just don't do it.  I guess maybe it's because sometimes I feel like I'm saying the same things over and over again.  Nothing has really changed.  Nothing needs to be reported on.  There aren't really any new milestones.  So what is left to say?

I think I've probably used 'Time' as a post title before.  It seems to go right along with the word 'GRIEF'.  Tick-tock, tick-tock.  Time moves on regardless.  Time is such a strange concept when you've lost a child.  I can hardly put it into words.  I've said this before but it hasn't changed- sometimes it seems that we just lost Lincoln yesterday.  I remember little tiny details and can still imagine what it was like to hold him and to rock him to sleep.  What it was like to bathe him and to get him dressed each morning.  And yet at the same time it seems like a lifetime has already passed.  Sometimes it even seems dream-like.  Do we really have a son?  Was he with us until he was two or did I just dream that?  I hate that feeling.  I sometimes hear myself explaining that my son passed away and then think to myself, 'did that phrase actually just come out of my mouth?  That's not my life?  I'm not living this nightmare!  Wake up!'  But I am.  It's me.  And this is my life.

I remember counting every single hour, every single day, in the beginning, after Lincoln passed away.  It had been 2 days and then 2 weeks and then 2 months.  My friend told me after awhile I'd lose track of the exact time it had been that I'd start approximating.  I didn't believe her.  There was no way I'd lose track of that time.  But I have started to.  It's been "about 1 1/2 years" although I often say we lost our son a year ago and then realize it's been much longer than that.  And sometimes it feels more like it's been 30 years.

And with each passing year there are new things to grieve.  New experiences that make my heart hurt in new ways.  I'm discovering a new one right now, as we are in the middle of fall and Halloween approaches.  Last year it was easy to imagine what our Lincoln would have been dressed up as for Halloween.  I knew exactly who he would have been and what he would have looked like.  His big sister was going to be Princess Marida from Brave, so obviously my little curly red-headed son would be one of her triplet brothers.  How cute, right?!  But this year I don't know what he would have been.  I can't picture as easily how tall he would be or what he would be interested in.  And then there's Christmas approaching and the same heart ache comes.  Last year I knew about where his skill level was at.  I could imagine the progress he would have made and the toys we would have bought him for Christmas.  This year isn't so easy to imagine.  What skills would he have learned within the past 1 1/2. Would he be walking?  Would he be talking by now?  What if he wasn't?  Then what would he like?  What would he be into?  And for some reason that's hard for me.  Maybe because it's a reminder of how long it's been.

Although it makes me sick to know that in about 6 months we will have lived without Lincoln here with us as long as we lived with him, there are moments where I breathe a sigh of relief and give myself a pat on the back for making it this long.  Yay for us.  Keep going . . .

And I must say that I of course continue to find joy in my life.  I try hard to and often am able to.   A dear friend of mine who has also experienced the loss of a child shared with me a quote that I like.  And I understand:

"Certainly joy has taken on a

different meaning more than ever before.

I used to equate joy with happiness.

Clearly, I may never be happy again.

Joy is now a deep abiding place,

an assurance that God is sovereign.

I don't have to like what happens.

I merely have to trust that 

God knows what He is doing."

So much time has passed that I thought we had found every single picture we had ever taking of Lincoln.  But the other day a friend of mine found another one of him.  What a tender mercy.  It was when he was 1 1/2 years old at our church Halloween party.  He was an octopus.  And when I look at that picture, in a moment I can remember snuggling with him that night, as if it were just yesterday.