Shaking off November

Each night, when I get Audra out of the bathtub, she loudly proclaims- "brrrrrr" and does this cute little shaking shiver. It makes me smile. She seems to find comfort in the acknowledgment of stating that she is cold. I quickly wrap her in a towel that brings warmth and comfort. As we approach the holiday season, I feel like Audra as I have been slowly “shaking off” the month of November. Time has passed, years have come and gone, yet two little boys still live in our hearts. Daily thoughts of them seem to be exaggerated as the month of November emerges. My great friend Kate, once describe grief to be like a cloak. Some days you wear the cloak tightly around your shoulders while other days you throw open the cloak. However, the cloak never leaves your shoulders. It is always there. A reminder of what you carry with you now and for days to come. And sometimes one hides themselves deeply in the covers of the cloak, sheltered in deep darkness. Waiting. Waiting for the day that the cloak doesn’t feel so heavy. Just waiting. We have come to recognize that no matter how much we prepare ourselves for this time of year, it always comes. Always steals our breath away. Always brings back the darkness. We have learned take refugee in this time and to spend it together. So in our togetherness, we decided that this year we would release balloons in honor of Jacob and Caden. As you can see from the photos, Audra was mesmerized by the flight of the balloons. I think this is a tradition we will keep for years to come. For now, we are slowly emerging from the depths of November and look forward to a season of love and warmth.

A "Season of Firsts"

Two years ago we embarked on what I liked to call the "Season of Firsts". This so called season was defined by sorrow and "what might have beens". For some, holidays are characterized by painful reminders of what or whom has been lost. It is darkness. It is grief. It is loss.


This year we find ourselves in a much different "Season of Firsts". This year we laugh at Audra's current new sound, which much to my dismay, is da da. In fascination we see our old, everyday world, through her eyes and it becomes new. We live for each daily moment with her and cherish where we are this year. So many times I catch my breath when I think of where I was last year at this time. For this, we are thankful.



It is difficult to wade through the ins and outs of a grief tide. At this time of year, we pause and remember those who are on their own painful "Season of Firsts". You are in our thoughts and our prayers. We will hope for you when you cannot.

The Shadow Lingers- Holding on and letting go

It is 4 a.m. and as I blankly stare at this screen I continue to ask myself why my deepest thinking has to come in the middle of the night or early morning. I have no answers and know that I will pay for it tomorrow. However, sometimes the emotional benefit far out-weighs the need for sleep. And lets be honest, who really sleeps with a five week in the house.

For awhile now I have been realizing my shadow still lingers. This became apparent to me when a good friend asked me how it was to remember Jacob and Caden now that Audra was born. This is the same friend who has walked so intimately with us during this time. She was the first one to the hospital the morning the boys died and she was the same friend who came to the hospital with three roses- two in remembrance of Jacob and Caden and one for Audra. There are very few who have stayed, continued to walk beside me and look to me and say “Alicia, I will not forget.” There are very few that ask about the boys simply because as humans we don’t know what to say- and sadly in the end- we say nothing, leaving a feeling of being forgotten to the ones who never forget. She is the same friend who walks with her own unspoken grief yet takes time to ask me these questions because she knows I need to think them. To her I am forever grateful and wish for everyone a friend like this.

I never did answer her completely as it often takes me awhile to process such questions. And as has I have come to realize my answers come in the form of what I like to call “mind-stunners.” These are the answers that slam us in the face and we are left with a stunned expression on our face and wonder why it took so long for it to become clear. I feel this is a fitting word as dictionary.com defines the word stun- “to deprive of consciousness or strength”, to shock; overwhelm.” So my “stunner” came tonight as I stood over Audra’s crib and realized with a force so full of grief that she would not be here if the boys had not passed on. The most heartbreaking thing for a grieving mother to realize is that you can’t have both. Somehow I want to hold on and let go at the same time. I will I know that I will never know my three children in this life- but I look forward to the day I do; A day I enter a life where I will walk with all three.

So I will end with a photo of Audra and anticipate watching her grow and awaiting the day she will be old enough to learn about her two older brothers and the day that I will walk with all of my children- hand in hand.

Broken Places

Some of you may note the time on this post: 12:22 a.m. Yes a.m. I would love to say the sleepless nights are long past for me. It seems that they just have become fewer and far between. So long, dark and quiet nights bring me to reflect and as stated before in the quiet is where I learn the most.

The last few days have been ones of reflection and grief again. For those that have lost a child realize the grief never fully goes away. One cannot go back to normal or try to live the way it was before. A new normal must be formed and defined. As I have been defining my new normal I often look to others for help. So as I was searching the other day for words of inspiration I stumbled upon some beautiful words. I was hopelessly cleaning out my "hope" chest, ha no pun intended, when I found this small, crumpled up piece of paper with writing on it. No memory could define where, when or how I had come to write on this small piece of paper but after studying it for a time it was obviously meant for me. Below are words I must have found in a book and they obviously touched me enough to write it down. I share it with you now and you can take what you want or need from it.

To become strong in the broken places in our lives demands that
we do two things, 'hang in there' and 'let go.' To somehow dig
up the courage to keep going is the very courage that allows us
to scoop up the broken pieces of our lives and lay them all at the
feet of One who would do more in us than just get us through the
storm.
As James Means said, HE would take the fire that blackens our
horizons and warm our souls with it. HE would sharpen our vision
in the darkness that oppresses us. HE would use the despair of
standing at a grave to deepen our trust.
This we cannot do for ourselves. Perhaps because our brokenness
brings us to the end of ourselves, it is here, in these jars of clay that
we offer ourselves up, and God's all surpassing power is made known
and HE indeed makes us strong in our broken places.

Thinking of the broken places . . .

The Silence in the Shadow

So the last few days have been interesting. I now take time to sit on my couch and view the room around me. Instead of seeing the cracks on the ceiling or my empty beam now that Christmas is past, I see the magazines that line the floor or the dust that has built up on top of the table. This makes me smile as I realize it does not matter what position I am in, I will always find something to fixate on. Those who know me well, know how dangerous this can be. Slowly I have been finding my "land legs" as I make my way back into vertical world. It is strange to go from such strict bed rest to so many changes. I still have to take it easy and spend most of my time on this couch. However, the kitchen is now void of those pesky daily crumbs and there is a load of laundry cleanly retiring by my feet as I write. It is these small things that make my day go by faster and I anticipate life beyond the confines of couch sitting and "being careful." I have learned much from this time spent lying still and have realized in the stillness is where I have learned the most. As happy as I am to be up, I also realize that I will never again have the time I have had to reflect and drink deeply from the quiet. There is a song you can now find on this blog that is called "I Believe in Love". The chorus says "I believe in the sun even when it is not shinning, I believe in love even when I don't feel it and I believe in God even when he is SILENT." The song was inspired by the very quote you find in the chorus. It was etched into the wall of a concentration camp by a man who spent the remainder of his days in a dark stone room. I don't know about you but when I am in my darkest times, I am not usually praising God. I continue to take from this song and begin to find what it means for life as well as ponder what it means to have your character formed in the valley instead of the mountain top.

My Shadow

Today's entry is the beginning of a new journey in blogging. It has nothing to do with my current status in pregnancy, but rather the a beginning of a new journey. It is a new journey with the attempts of a bed-ridden woman to understand life. Please feel free to skim, scan or even skip this entry if you have no interest in the musing of a woman with too many hours to spend thinking. I will not be offended.


For years five years now a shadow has been defining itself over my head. Only recently have I discovered this shadow that keeps me from gifts that are ready to be given to me. I struggle to write these words as I know many of you will read them and I do not want to ever paint a picture of perfectness. Please read this entry knowing these are mere ramblings from a woman who has spent many hours with time on her hands. What else can come from being forced to lie around but deep questions and thoughts?

My shadow started five years ago when Paul was diagnosed with stage five cancer and was fighting for his life. As a new bride of six months the "in sickness and health" part was becoming a reality much sooner than expected or even wanted for that matter. Living through 2 1/2 years of treatments with battles won and battles lost can begin to define a person. Living with and battling cancer also gives new meaning to life. Journeying through cancer with someone I loved deeply is where my shadow began and continues to this day.

With what deemed a defying of odds, Paul recovered and life began to move forward. However the Shadow was still there even if it wasn't felt each day. The shadow moved back in when we were told children were not a possibility and would be a miracle if it happened naturally. However the shadow was cast aside completely when six months later we were told we were having twins. The light broke through and I threw my shadow aside singing my praise to the heavens. What an incredible gift to be given despite odds and struggles.

Five months later the Shadow threw itself completely around me as I held my twin sons in my arms and watched them die. November 11th is the day a part of my heart died I forever will be changed. It will forever be known as my darkest day. My Shadow now completely surrounded me. I challenged God, I shouted "WHY" to the heavens, and heaven forbid I even screamed at God. I demanded to know why a God of love would allow this to happen. I battled to continue to trust God and despite still trusting God did not mean I had to understand Him. So began my journey with my shadow.

My shadow continues today despite the thought of a new child, a new miracle. These seven weeks have made me realize that my Shadow has become my comfort. I am beginning to be ready to throw off my shadow and try to receive this gift of life. I recognize this process will not happen over night and there will be days when I have to run back to the cover of my shadow. With baby steps I will begin this journey knowing my journey will have mountaintops and valleys. I will aim to accept this gift and walk each day believing I deserve a new chapter in life with joy and light.