Silent Tears, Quiet Grief, and Sacred Friendships

This week has been a week full of silent tears and quiet grief.

One week from today, my baby should be celebrating his 4th birthday.

Instead, it's just another year gone by that I am left to wonder who he would be.

Over the past few weeks, I have done a lot of traveling.

 Two weeks ago, my husband and I took a week long camping trip, just the two of us. July is our anniversary month and this year we celebrated 10 years of wedded bliss survival growth companionship love. As I try to think about the words to describe our marriage, I just can't place one word on it. We have had our highs, but we have had equally as many lows. And the lows have been LOW. It seems that the past 10 years have been marked with sadness, struggle, grief, anxiety, stress, and exhaustion.

I guess that is normal when you are married at 20 years old and don't really know who you are. Add four children, jobs, college, death, and houses into the mix, and you learn who you are and who your spouse is. We have spent the past 10 years growing up together and it's been exhaustingly wonderful.

As Shane stated last night, our love is deeper and more firmly planted than it was 10 years ago. We have survived and thrived. We have loved and lost and stayed together through it all. I've cried silent tears of thanks that our love and our marriage has remained. I can't imagine losing him after everything else.

Last week, the kids and I went on a small road trip to Maryland to visit my friend Marina. Marina and her husband lost their son, Charlie, to HLHS 4 years ago also. They are now raising Charlie's surviving twin brother and also his rainbow baby sister. Marina and I met shortly after her sons were born and she was quick to offer encouragement and wisdom before Joshua was born. Our friendship has grown over the years and we have found sacred space in the deep crevices of our friendship.

The kids and I spent a week with Marina and her family last week. Even though it was chaotic with 5 kids under the age of 8, it was so comforting to be with someone who understands. She knows the pain and heartache of saying goodbye to her baby. She knows the pain of having to learn to live without him. She knows the joy of a rainbow baby, but also the struggles that accompany new life. She knows the struggle to balance grief with joy, anxiety with letting go, and raising children while in the thick of grief.

I am safe with her. I can cry without having to explain myself. She, the same. We don't have to speak about the pain. We can just sit in silence and share each others pain. We don't have to explain why we do the things we do, especially when it comes to raising our children. We understand the anxiety and the overwhelming need to keep our children close. We just get it.

One day, when I stepped out of the shower, she could tell I had been crying and she knew why. She simply followed me into my bedroom and offered a hug and shoulder to cry on. That is sacred. She understands and supports and loves because she, herself, knows.

But now, I'm home. The tears have been falling, often silently. I don't want to share them any more. I hide them. I don't talk about them. I just let them come and conceal them from others.

After four years, I've found that I'm tired of explaining them. I'm not overwhelmed with grief and sadness like I once was. But the tears are there. My mama heart hurts for a baby that isn't. Small things remind me of the loss. Big things remind me of the life that won't be. And the ache in my heart works its way out through my tears. I'm not necessarily looking for comfort from others, or searching for answers to life's big questions. My tears are simply signs of a mother missing her child.

Four years have passed. My grief has changed. Joshua's birthday is a painful reminder of what is gone- a birthday without the birthday boy; another school year beginning without my child.

My heart aches. My soul cries out. My arms yearn to hold the child that he would be. But it just isn't, and tears are all I have left.

God's Way of Pouring Out His Grace

As time moves on, I sometimes tend to lean towards the idea that people have forgotten.

Life has moved on. That's what it does. It keeps moving.

When loss comes, our lives feel shattered and we don't know how we will ever move forward. We realize quickly that nothing will be the same. Most of all, there comes a time when people stop speaking his name.

The first year, Joshua was remembered in a way that left me speechless. People from all over remembered him. They lit candles in memory of him, they sent cards. They said and wrote his name to me. Those who got to know him in real life, reached out to me and encouraged me to remember his life and what a blessing it was instead of focusing on his death. All of the words of encouragement, love, and remembrance brought peace. My baby was remembered.

Then there was year 2. Some relationships fell apart, while others began to blossom. Joshua was remembered again, but not by as many as the first year. I know it's wrong to expect people to remember, but it hurts when they remembered the first year and not the second. It was a painful reminder that life goes on.

The 3rd year was even less. And I noticed. I noticed the ones who were intimately involved in Joshua's life and our life, who didn't even acknowledge the day. Close family and friends who didn't remember. It hurt. A lot.

But what can I expect? Life just goes on. It just does.

I let it go, knowing that I can't expect others to feel the loss like I do. I let it go, praying that God would help heal my broken and bitter heart. I let it go, just trusting that God continued to have a purpose in Joshua's life and my brokenness, and that he would reveal it to me when it was His will to do so.

Next month is year four. I am expecting the number of phone notifications to be even smaller this year. I am expecting the sting of others forgetting or not realizing the importance of acknowledging the days- even if they aren't involved in our lives anymore.  Life just goes on, I can't blame others. I just can't. But it does hurt.

But this is where God has poured out his graciousness on me. This year is different.

God has shown me, in specific people, that Joshua's purpose on Earth was fulfilled.

Just a few weeks ago, a woman reached out to me. She said that because of Joshua's life and my words telling his story, that she accepted Christ as her savior just after Joshua died. Not only that, but shortly after she received the gift of salvation, her husband and 3 sons did also. Now, don't get me wrong- I take no credit for their salvation. I did nothing to bring them to it, but God worked in their hearts through Joshua's life. What an honor. What an amazing purpose to his life. God is so very good and so very gracious.

And over the past 3 days, I have had 4 separate emails/facebook messages from completely random people (that I would never expect to hear from) telling me that they remember Joshua. They have shared how Joshua's life has impacted their own, and I have been beyond blessed to know that my sweet baby boy has been remembered.

Tonight, I am in awe of God. I am in awe of a God who knows me so well and provides for my every need. I am in awe of a God who prompts others to share their memories with me. I am in awe of a God who is the creator of the universe, yet provides a way for my heart to heal through others.

I am so undeserving of his grace, yet he lavishes it upon me.

For those of you who remember, thank you. Thank you for blessing me in such a mighty way. Thank you for keeping Joshua alive in your heart and giving meaning to his life. Please don't ever hesitate to say his name to me or Shane. We love to know that he is remembered. 

Heart Ugliness

This is a post in which I am going to make myself vulnerable. I have never shied from the truth of grief, healing, and faith, and I am not going to start shying away from it now. 

I have a friend who is going through a pretty difficult time. I am going to leave the specifics out because the issue I'm talking about is not an issue with her. It's an issue of my heart.

As I've grown in my love for God over the past few years, God has revealed parts of my life that need refining. The situation with my friend is showing me where I need some refining. It's showing me how ugly my heart really is.

My friend is in a situation that in a small way, is something I have also faced. It is something that I, of all people, should feel compassion for. It is something I should rejoice with the triumphs, and cry out to God in the valleys.

But I can't.

The last update I received about my friend's situation said something along the lines of, "God heard my prayers and he answered them. It's because I spoke Jesus's name over the situation that we received healing."

Where was my healing? Where was Joshua's healing? Why weren't my prayers answered?

Before I get into it, I know that my friend is wrong. I know that God answered the prayers with a "yes" because it was within His will to do so. I know he heard my prayers just as much as he heard my friend's prayers. I know His will was a "no" and "not yet" for me. I know his sovereignty is always right, and I ultimately trust it.

But my heart screams out in bitterness. And I don't want to let it go.

I am so bitter that my friend's situation seems to be resolving and has been moving towards healing. I am so bitter that God has allowed her to live in the bliss of believing that her prayers were answered by God in the way that she wanted them to go because he listened to her and accepted her request. I am bitter that she is allowed to continue believing that God can be manipulated by our prayers like so many Christians believe. I guess maybe I'm just bitter that I was taken to the pit of despair while some are left to live in ignorance. Isn't ignorance supposed to be bliss?

So where does that leave me? It leaves me looking at my heart. It's an ugly heart with ugly things hidden in the crevices and dark corners. It's an ugly heart that shows its true nature of who I am, and my desperate need for a savior. It's an ugly heart that is undeserving of the friends that I have when I feel the way I do. Who wants a friend that can't rejoice and weep with them?!

So why can't I let it go? Why can't I just bask in God's goodness and grace? Why do I allow my bitterness to fester and point it toward others who "got their way?" I don't really want my friends to suffer like I did, do I? (of course not!!!!)

It's a heart issue, with the roots seeded in my continued anger towards God for not allowing me to have my way.

They are roots that are deeply seeded and give me a sense of control in my life. They are roots from the evil one telling me that I know better than God. Lies!!!! All of those things are LIES!!!!

God's answer of "no" in my life has brought me to a deeper understanding of who he is and how desperately I need a savior. If he answered my prayers the way I wanted him to 4 years ago, I would never be able to understand and love him in the ways that I do now. I wouldn't be able to dig deeper into his word- I wouldn't have seen the need. I would have never been able to know God's love for me in the way that I do.

So why can't I fill the crevices of my heart with compassion, love, joy, and faith? Why does my heart continue to cry out in anguish over what I lost? Why do the seeds of bitterness continue to take root and spread like poison?

I have been praying the past few days about how to handle the situation. I need to just let it go and allow God to do what He needs to do without trying to get in the way. I need to trust in His sovereignty over my life and the lives of the people I love. I need to start praying that God will continue to reveal  his grace to me and allow it to over take and kill the ugliness in my heart.

I know He's not finished with me. I know he will continue to refine me- I just need to stop fighting it. God, help the ugliness hidden in my heart.

Capture Your Grief Day 24: Artwork

We have been blessed over the years

 by such loving friends 

who have given us some beautiful pieces 

of handmade items to help us remember Joshua. 

A blanket made out of Joshua's clothes

A hand knit hat

A large scrapbook made by one of our favorite NICU nurses

A small scrapbook made by my sister in law

A hand painted tin that contains a lock Joshua's hair

A handmade doll that I made for Shane for his birthday- it has Joshua's scars

Capture Your Grief Day 21: Honor

Joshie Dolls

My friend Molly created a beautiful way to honor Joshua. 

She and I, along with a few other volunteers, 

sew dolls for children with physical/medical scarring. 

We hand make each doll from beginning to end

 and customize it to match the individual child that receives the doll. 

Each stitch is an act of love and service to others 

all while remembering and honoring Joshua's life. 

For more information about Joshie Dolls click here. 

Pieces of Joshua

Joshua was 51 days old when he died.

He spent his entire life in the hospital.

There were only a handful of people who got to meet him while he was alive.

There were a few who knew him more than others- who were present at his birth, or cried when they saw him after his first surgery, who took his pictures, who prayed over him, who touched his tiny feet, who cared for him.

Those people carry a part of my sons life with them.

After losing a baby, a mother's worst fear is that her baby's life will not be remembered. It is a bereaved mother's deepest and darkest fear that her baby will be forgotten.

I know that Joshua's memory is alive and that he will not be forgotten. His name is spoken freely around our home, we share his story with anyone and everyone who will listen, he has CHD dolls named after him. His life will not be forgotten as long as I am alive.

Those things are wonderful, but sometimes a mama just wants to talk to someone who KNEW him. Someone who smelled his little head, who saw his heart beating inside his chest, who caressed his tiny wrinkly feet. Sometimes a mama just needs to know that others who knew him remember him and haven't just shoved his memory into some dark part of their heart to never be brought up again.

This weekend, I was faced with a new feeling that I have not experienced in my journey with grief.

Bitterness.

Bitterness that some (not all) of the people who "knew" Joshua have that part of him and that the connection with those people has been cut off. They hurt me and my family so badly after Joshua died, that I can't bring myself to have a relationship with them. Yet, those are the very people who were intimately involved in his life. They have a part of him that I don't necessarily want them to have.

I felt bitter that they "loved" my baby and my family so much and were so deeply involved in the entire situation and then just threw us out like a piece of trash after he died. I felt bitter that they hold physical memories of Joshua, yet within days after he died, were the first to tell me that how I was grieving was wrong and that I needed to listen to the very people who were attacking our family. I felt bitter that these people carried our family through such an emotionally taxing time of our lives, but when it got worse, they were incapable of loving us and helping to carry the burden.

Throughout my journey with grief, I have found myself being fairly graceful to people who say stupid things in an effort to try and help ease the pain. From the very beginning, I knew that people had no idea what to say or do, and that we were facing a parents worst nightmare. Things like, "God needed another angel in heaven," or "you can always have more children," I let go. I didn't let those things bother me and I didn't take them personally. I knew that what we had faced was so far out of any realm of experience any of our friends had ever faced. I knew that they were only trying to help.

But it's the ones who knew Joshua- the ones who held him, or touched him, or breathed him in. Those are the ones that I needed compassion from after he died. I needed them to just sit with me. I needed them to cry with me. I needed them to simply tell me they didn't have the answers and that losing Joshua just plain SUCKED. I needed them to tell me that me and my family were not going to be just another church statistic.

And even though a few of them failed me, I still need them. I need them to remember him. Moreso, I need them to TELL me they remember him. I need them to text or email on his birthday. I need them to talk about him.

They hold a part of him that I wish they didn't. They hold a part of my child's memory that I wish other's had held. They hold a part of him that I wish we could talk about.

But none of those things will happen. The relationships are unrepairable and the bitterness is real and completely unexpected.

I'm working hard to remember that Joshua made an impact in the lives that needed to be impacted. I'm working hard to remind myself that Joshua made a difference in those lives, even if they don't speak his name anymore. I'm working hard to trust that Joshua's life had a purpose for all of our lives, not just the lives of my husband and children. I'm trusting that God worked in their lives in ways that I may never know, and that that will be enough for me.

Above all else, I'm working towards surrendering this bitterness to God. He is the true source of healing.

A Taste of What Should Have Been

I've been babysitting during the day. At any given time, I have quite a few children in our home that are not my children. I care for them, love them, and treat them like my own.

For the most part, I enjoy babysitting, but some days it drains me. There have been a few children who have brought about the grief of losing Joshua when I realized they are Joshua's age. But, I've found the joy in having children around who are his age. It allows me a glimpse of him and what life may be like for him in Heaven (assuming babies age the way we do here, of course!)

I've been seeing Joshua in Hannah lately. There have been a few specific times that, when she looks at me, I swear it's Joshua looking back at me. Hannah and Joshua share a lot of the same features while Caleb and Lukey share a lot of the same features. Seeing Joshua in Hannah is such a blessing. He was such a beautiful child.

This morning, I have a little guy here is who is just a few months older than Joshua- I've known that for a while. It's so good to see some of the developmental milestones that I would have missed, even if it's not in my child. However, as I was doing dishes this morning, it dawned on me that the ages of the children that I have here this morning, would have been the ages of Caleb, Hannah, and Joshua if he had lived. Hannah is almost 5- the age Caleb was when Joshua was born. The little guy that I'm watching is 2 1/2- the age Hannah was when Joshua was born. And Lukey is 1. Just a little older than Joshua would have been.

Watching the 3 of them interact quickly brought tears to my eyes. This is what should have been. This is what my family SHOULD have looked like. But the reality is that it was never intended to look this way.

But, here is where I have found major healing in my life. In that moment, when grief threatened to over take me, I remembered the blessings that came out of Joshua's life. I look at Luke and his beautiful red hair and sweet disposition (who, by the way, has reached the holy terror stage of development- climbing, jumping, and getting into trouble! LOL!). I look around at the beautiful home that we were able to custom build. I look at Caleb and Hannah who have incredibly tender hearts. I see my husband whose strong shoulders have carried the burden of our family with grace and strength that can only come from God. And I think of my best friend Molly, who without her, I would have never reached the level of healing I have. I allow myself to bask in the love of my savior who has held on tight to me, even when I wanted to let go. His grace has been and will be enough. And then I think of our newest project- Joshie Dolls, and what an honor it is to serve CHD families with dolls that bear the beautiful scars that their children bravely wear.

Today, I got a small taste of what should have been, but I also got a chance to see what IS. And for as much as I miss my baby, and wish things could have been different, his life was and still is amazing. God continues to provide for our family through Joshua's life. So instead of being overwhelmed by what should have been, I am thank for it and allowing the beauty of what is to take hold.

Pictures of yourself that you NEVER want anyone to see.

Like this one, that my friend Nabrissa dug up.

It's sad that this is straight from the camera. No photoshopping or picture gallery editing.

Nice.

Becoming Friends

My friend Molly and I have been friends for over 6 years. We met when we were both pregnant with our oldest boys. She has been there through thick and thin and she has provided me with such an amazing friendship over the years.

However, it's no secret that our friendship is slightly different.

We laugh at inappropriate jokes, we joke about things that no one else thinks is funny, and when I'm with her, the very small filter that I have between my brain and my mouth seems to disappear.

I used to write a blog on a different blogging platform. We actually met through that blog 6 years ago.

Molly just told me a few weeks ago, that the post made her realize that we were going to be good friends was this post:

To truly enjoy this, you need to click on the picture to make it easier to read.

Yes.

Leg hair wins the friendship. (and yes...that was true and it really WAS my leg hair in those pictures. I'm awesome like that.)

2 things:

1.) How awesome am I that I would write such a disgusting post for all of the world to see?
2.) How disturbed does Molly have to be that when she read this post, she KNEW we were going to be good friends?

This, my friends, is how true friendships are formed.

I love them.

First day of First Grade!

First Day of First Grade

Somebody got a haircut! :o)

Hannah and her best friend playing "car."

Telling secrets.

Counseling Goodness

I've been going to counseling for a while now.

It has been so good for me. It has given me tools to help with my anxiety and lack of self esteem. It has helped me realize that I cannot take responsibility for the people around me. It has also validated a lot of my feelings and frustrations about life in general.

One of the most powerful things that my therapist has helped me to understand is that I need to allow myself to be loved. I need to trust in myself and remind myself that "I AM good enough."

I've lived my whole life not feeling good enough.

My entire life, I've been made to feel that anything that I said, did, or felt were wrong in some capacity.

Now, I know that is not true. I am good enough. I am worthy of love.

Lately, I feel like God has been providing me with relationships that reinforce that I am good enough. He has provided me with 2 extremely secure relationships in which I actually feel safe and valued. Because of those relationships, I am able to stand up for myself. I have been given the strength to cut others out of my life that do not contribute to the healthy environment that I am trying to create, not only for myself, but for my husband and children.

And guess what? It has been empowering.

There have been situations that have come up recently that I have been able to say no and mean no- rather an questioning my sanity or doubting myself, I have been able to stand my ground and express the fact that my decisions are good enough. I have been able to set boundaries and not carry the responsibility of other's actions. They are not mine to carry.

I have been given a gift in counseling. A gift to figure out how to live after so much has changed. I have been given a chance to break the cycle of emotional distress and even possibly abuse. I have been allowed to teach my children that sometimes I mess up, that they are good enough, and are worthy of love.

I still have a long way to go, but I'm working on it and it feels GOOD.

He's Got Super Powers!

My incredible husband took Luke, Hannah, and Hannah's best friend to the zoo today.

(Thanks, Pop Pop, for the zoo pass!!!)

That, in itself, is pretty impressive.

What is even more impressive is this:

He wore Luke almost the entire time in the Ergo.

Not only did he wear Luke, but he was able to get him on and off his back BY HIMSELF.

I think he has super powers.

To top it off, he also took all 3 kids to the river for a little creek walk this evening.

Did I pick a good one or what?!

Walk Beside Me

"Don't walk in front of me, I may not follow;

Don't walk behind me, I may not lead;

Hannah and her best friend.

Walk beside me, and just be my friend."

-Albert Camus

So thankful for the friendships in our lives.

My Friend

I have a friend.

A friend who has stuck by me through thick and thin.

I have a friend who has come along side me, cried with me, questioned with me, and listened to and shared my questions of faith.

I have a friend who, no matter what, has not given up on me.

I have a friend who loves me despite my pain, my selfishness, my tears, and my sadness.

I have a friend who loves my Joshua as much as I love him.

I have a friend who loves my living children as much as she loves her own children.

I have a friend who loves me for me.

I have a friend who has experienced pain, brokenness, and sadness, yet loves God with an unwavering and humble faith.

I have a friend who has taught me that our God is a God who loves us despite our questions, cursing, and anger.

I have a friend who has loved me for me, who has gotten messy with my life, and has encouraged me to continue on.

When God brought us together 6 years ago, I had no idea how much I would need her. I had no idea that she would be the one person to love me unconditionally and without expectation. I had no idea that she would be the one person to help save me from myself. I had no idea that she would become my very best friend- staying by my side through the thick of my grief and crying right along side me.

I have a friend who has helped me in ways that I will never be able to repay her. I will never be able to find the right words to say thank you for all that she has done for me. I cannot tell her how deep my love runs for her.

I have a friend who is a gift, a precious jewel, a treasure.

I have a friend who is a blessing, and I thank God for her every day of my life.

I love you, Molly.

Thank you for being you.

Thank you for loving me.

Thank you for helping to carry my burden and helping me heal.

So Many Things...

My lack of blogging has been due to the fact that my life feels extremely out of control lately. I've been wanting to blog, but quite honestly, I'm not sure what to type anymore.

There is a lot going on in my life right now. Some good. Some bad. Some just there and not really important, but adds weight to the burden that I carry day in and day out.

I've thought a lot about what I want to share with you and what I don't want to share with you. This time around, the grief is a lot more private. Or maybe I simply don't have anything new or insightful to say. Either way, the words aren't there. The overwhelming feelings of sadness are very  much present, but the words, both typed and spoken, won't come.

I've thought about sharing with you the feelings of abandonment that my dad's death has brought to my life. He's gone and, with that, his absence has brought a sense of aloneness. My mom has had to make some tough decisions about what to do next, which have selfishly, added to the feelings of abandonment. Whether or not they are valid feelings is a whole other argument that I'm not willing to hash out on my blog or even with spoken words. It's all part of the grief, and one things I learned with my struggles with grief is that the grieving process is so very selfish. I hate that.

I've also thought about sharing with you a little bit about my new purchase. My laptop bit the dust a few weeks ago, and Shane and I have been talking about what we wanted to replace it with. I am pleased, and somewhat embarrassed to announce that we have officially become the proud owners of a brand spanking new MacBook Pro. Yes...that's right...a Mac. We have officially crossed over to the dark side...or I guess more appropriately, the white side....that is shaped like a fruit...Yikes.

I've thought about sharing how I'm doing with my weight loss. Thankfully, that is one area of my life that I have complete control over and I'm taking full advantage! Last week I lost 4.2 pounds and I'm down a total of 12.6 pounds. I'm hoping that at this week's weigh in I will be in the 230's- almost 20 pounds lighter than when I started a month and a half ago! Slowly but surely, this weight will come off! I can't wait!!!

I've thought a lot about writing about Luke, Hannah, and Caleb. They are all growing and changing and learning at remarkable rates. My baby will be 4 months old in a few weeks and is extremely close to rolling over. Hannah will be turning 4 in a few months and amazes me with her witty-ness and humor. And my oldest will be in 1st grade soon- he scored his first basket in Upwards basketball a few weeks ago and has discovered the world of BeyBlades (I'm warning you...don't get your kids hooked....trust me on this one). Time is flying and I'm trying to soak it all in. However, with their growth comes a lingering sadness and constant wonder of what Joshua would be like today. Surely he would be walking and starting to talk at this point. He would be 18 months now. I can't even begin to think about it.

I've also thought about sharing with you the very personal decision to seek professional counseling and also changing my decision about medication. Anxiety has set in and at times, I am fully convinced that one, a couple, or all of my children are dying. So much as a cough or cry have me fully convinced that I need to drop what I'm doing and rush them to the ER. The anxiety is affecting my daily life and I'm finding that I cannot function. I have never been against medication, but wanted to work through all of this without it. However, I'm realizing that it's time to reconsider that. I need to take the edge off so I can become well again. I'm slipping deeper and deeper into a place that I don't want to live and I recognize that it's only going to get worse.

I've thought about writing a post that tells you that there is quite possibly another move in our future. We are looking at homes in the big city just East of us where Shane works. My mom is moving and there is nothing tying us to our current location anymore. It would be nice to be close to my friend Molly and her family (who just so happen to be our kid's best friends), as well as be just minutes away from shopping and Shane's work. Growing up in the Chicago area, we just aren't adjusting well to living in a sleepy little town with only one stop light, a library the size of my bathroom, and a grocery store that charges an arm and a leg for everything.

And finally, I've thought about sharing with you my newest adventure of becoming a professional cutter. My friend, Molly, creates absolutely beautiful baby dolls. She has asked me to come on board with her and help her cut, sew, and keep her company while she works on getting her business off the ground. The kids and I been spending many days at her house helping her create her masterpieces. I'm surprised at how attached I'm becoming to those dolls. I guess after all the hard work, they slowly become a part of you and it's hard to let them go.

By the way, do you remember the post when I shared that she created a Joshua CHD doll that was up for auction? That doll sold for $500 with all the proceeds going towards CHD research. I have no words to describe how beautiful that entire auction process was to me. The winner of the doll has a touching story to tell about Congenital Heart Defects that I will have to share in another blog post.

In all, things have been good, but they have also been kinda crummy. I miss Joshua. I miss my dad. Things are changing and I'm trying my best to adjust. We are praying for God's will to be revealed and trusting Him with our pain. I continue to take one day at a time and try not to beat myself up when I simply can't find the motivation to post here.

Joshua CHD Doll- A guest post

I met my friend Molly years ago through our blogs when we were both pregnant with our first child. We enjoyed reading each others blogs, and quickly realized that we only lived 20 minutes away from each other. We met 6 years ago and have remained friends since. She has been there through thick and thin, always loving me, supporting me in any way she can, and always making me laugh. Just recently we started a new project together. Please read below to see what we have been up to!

I was very blessed to have the unique opportunity to meet baby Joshua face to face before and after his surgery.

Within 24 hours of his birth, I photographed him. Jill asked me to. She asked for those pictures of him, to remember his newborn body before it was forever changed.

On the drive home that day, after taking those photos, the disbelief over his broken heart overwhelmed me. From the outside, he looked exactly like my newborns had, like Jill's other babies had when I had photographed them. It was hard to accept that on the inside of someone so small, so peaceful, and so perfect, there was something very broken.

When I visited Jill and Joshua after surgeries and crashes, I met the same sweet face. He was so much more aware. His large wise eyes were entrancing, and once he made eye contact he kept it. And kept it. And kept it.

The thing that I remember most about Joshua was how much he was exactly like every other baby I have met. This is what stands out to me, and I think this is why accepting his death was and is so hard.

He had that soft baby hair, the sweet baby smell, his little baby fingers held on to mine with that tiny newborn grasp. He has the little newborn gurgles and growls.

And then, in the middle of all of these things, were his struggles. All the things this very real and very sweet baby endured...

But the thing I remember right after that is his scar, the scar that had left him forever changed left me forever changed as well.

I could write for days on the way life is different now than it was before Joshua. He changed the way I see myself, others, and life in general. Through Joshua I have even met new friends, and become closer with old ones.

But Jill and Joshua also opened my eyes to CHD statistics, and the Heart Community. Joshua made me realize that having a healthy heart is not something to take for granted and how unaware most people are about CHDs and how many people they affect all over the world.

He also opened my eyes to how much the scars of heart children mean and how beautiful they can be. What a badge of courage and hope they are!

In honor of Joshua and the struggles he and all other heart children face, Jill and I created a doll reflecting the scars Joshua bore from his surgeries and hospitalization. We have named him Joshua and are auctioning him off to raise awareness of CHDs and money for their research – in the hope that Joshua's struggles were only the beginning of his impact here on Earth.

To bid on the CHD Joshua doll, click on THIS link! 

(Molly also creates and sells many more dolls just like this. Visit her Facebook Page to take a peek at these beauties!!!)

Beautiful Faces

As I think about this past weekend, I can't help but fight the tears.

I have only seen the large sanctuary of my parents home church completely filled at Christmas; until this past weekend. As we said our final good byes to my father, I couldn't believe how many people came to pay their last respects.

At the closing of the service, the pastor offered communion to anyone who is a believer. He instructed our family to come and receive the elements first, and then as others felt lead, they could come and partake.

After we received the elements, I watched as others stood to enter the aisle. Slowly, the aisle filled and before I knew it, the line was as long as the sanctuary.

As I watched the people wait to receive the sacraments, I was brought to tears. I looked at the faces of each and every one of them and all I could see was a little piece of my dad in each of them.

They were all there because they loved my dad. They were all there because, in some small way, my dad made an impact on their lives.

As I watched the line move, I felt my dad's presence. I pictured him, looking down from Heaven, crying tears of pure joy at what he saw. All of those beautiful, beautiful faces, each unique and special, coming for the love that they had for my dad.

There is no greater honor than to be loved by many, many faces.

If you are one of the many beautiful faces who came to honor him, thank you. You blessed me in ways that you will never understand.

Happy Thanksgiving

 "Shout for joy to the LORD, all the earth.

 Worship the LORD with gladness;
   come before him with joyful songs.

 Know that the LORD is God.

   It is he who made us, and we are his;
   we are his people, the sheep of his pasture.

 Enter his gates with thanksgiving
   and his courts with praise;
   give thanks to him and praise his name. 

For the LORD is good and his love endures forever;
   his faithfulness continues through all generations."

Psalm 100

No matter what your hurt, your pain, your sorrow,

His love endures forever because we are HIS!! 

Wishing you and your family a very happy Thanksgiving.

Our Final Goodbye

It's taken me a year to finally ask my friend Molly for these pictures. 

These are the very last moments that we had with Joshua. 

Looking at these brings back the smell of his body, the feeling of his cold skin and feathery soft hair.

I remember his beautiful long fingers.

I'm reminded of how he looked in the onsie that I picked out for him 

when we first found out about his heart.

Oh how he loved his snugglie-

Something I slept with for a week before Joshua was born 

so he could smell me when I was away.

The love that surrounded us that day was palpable. 

The sadness overshadowed by innocence and God's promises. 

Saying goodbye was the hardest thing we have ever had to do.