When Life Blooms

April 6, 2017April 6, 2017Leave a comment

Entwined: Mama and Emme Art by Kathy Bauer

A week ago, anticipating today, I sat in my living room having a moment. I ran through every detail to ensure I still remembered. I ran my fingers up and down Emme’s c-section scar ensuring it was real. Sometimes it doesn’t feel real. Sometimes it feels like she’s going to run in and say something silly, as any 3 year old would. I thought about what she’d want her birthday theme to be. I thought about how I would, as always, plan for a small party but end up with a carnival.

Loss. It felt so heavy.

And then Life knocked at my door. As I cried in silence unable to open her box to inhale her smell again, to touch the hair the NICU nurses so gently packed for me, to fold and re-fold the baby clothes she wore for such a short period of time, I heard Nate’s butterfly begin to bat her wings, practicing as she broke through her chrysalis and embraced her new body. Charlie (our almost 2 year old turtle) began to chirp. I could hear the birds outside. In my sorrow, I heard life. There are no words to describe what I felt, but in that moment it was as if I was being told that life was blooming all around me, everywhere, all I had to do was silence my heart and listen.

The chrysalis

The anticipation of Easter has been hard the last couple years. I always felt so betrayed by it. Here comes spring and everything is blooming and there I am, mourning. I will never stop mourning; feeling extremely sad that I wasn’t able to live my life the way I would have liked with Emme. But this year I see life. I see it breaking through. The heaviness surrounds me but it’s not hopeless. No, it is not hopeless.

My Joy

Today Nate got to decide the flavor of Emme’s birthday cake, mama and Lei sang, and we all got to send Emme heavenly kisses.

To the heavens :*

When Your Tire Runs Flat

March 21, 2017Leave a comment

Unbreakable trust

A couple days ago I was leaving my my sister’s place when she noticed that my tire was completely flat. My immediate response was, “oh, that tire is kinda funny, it’s always a little flat.” My sister looked at me like I was crazy, so I walked over to look at the tire. She proceeded with directions: I was to go directly to the nearest gas station and get it taken care of. I obliged. I got out of the car, pulled Elea out of her car seat and proceeded to go inside to pay for the air. I thought I was putting air in the tire but the tire wasn’t looking any better. I re-read the instructions and kept trying. After no success I finally reached inside to grab my phone to call Eric, only to realize I had no phone. So, I looked around and approached the kindest looking person, an older gentleman who I later realized was living out of his car. He walked over and said he would be more than happy to help me. The problem was simple: I never pushed the ON button. He filled the tire and then taught me how to do it. He expressed concern over my safety with such a flat tire and then went on to grab his own meter to show me what I should expect my tire to read every time (the one provided by the gas station was broken).

Joy

Although it felt like it took me 5 minutes to do all this, I was actually at the gas station for almost an hour. As I drove home, I processed the risk of the flat tire and although I knew the car was driving funny, I was completely unaware. And even when my sister was trying to point it out to me, I wasn’t really concerned until I saw how the tire looked post air. My tire pressure light had been on and I still didn’t take the time to look at it, or at least to make sure it wasn’t bad. It is a lot like my gasoline habit. I can get down to zero miles but it doesn’t make me nervous. I know, because I read somewhere (please don’t trust this), that when your car says 0 miles it really can go an additional 20 miles before it leaves you stranded. I have never been stranded but have come pretty close to getting a panic attack, when lost, running low on gas, phone is dead, and am in a completely unknown place (happened to me in December). Yet, I do it again and again.

The love of a father

So, as I processed this issue and my overwhelming amount of trust in my car, I saw a recurring theme. I am capable of trusting wholeheartedly. No problem. But most recently I have found myself teetering between believing whole heartedly in something I know can be done and surrendering hope. Like a tire needing air, I was infused multiple times this past week with unbelievable confirmation that hope is not lost. You see Faith is amazing, but no one said it would be easy. In the midst of the storm, you have to find peace and hold on to it. And while there, you’ll see the beauty of believing. Be the tire that gets infused with hope and faith, because our Father is your rim. So even if you are left without air (or gas), you will keep going even if you wobble through, the rim will keep you upright until you can get infused once again.

P.S. try not to go without air in your tires and/or gas. Trusting in your car is not nearly as good as trusting in God. Whereas eventually I will get stranded, God will never let me down.

The Unexpected Encounter

February 17, 2017Leave a comment

Nathan’s preschool teacher has been sick the entire week and thus we’ve had substitutes every day. I walked into his classroom today hoping she was back, but instead the air was knocked out of me. My hands began to shake the way they do when I have too much caffeine. I squeezed Elea closer to my chest and hoped no one could see the sweat that was starting to form as my body burned. In a blink of an eye, it was Spring 2014. My knees shook and it took all the strength I could muster up to keep me from falling over.

Elea and Mama

Nathan’s substitute for the day was his old teacher, the teacher that held my hand through emails and gentle questions. She encouraged me at a hopeless time. When Emme passed, the last thing I wanted to do was take Nathan to all his classes. I felt ashamed. I felt as though I had failed my daughter. My body had failed to be a safe home for her. I had failed at giving her life. And although I know this is all wrong and completely false, these feelings overpowered me for a long time. I felt worthless.

Mama, Papa, Nathan, Emme’s Bear and Elea in the belly

His teacher emailed me and every time I had the courage to come to class, she always greeted me and Nathan with love. I remember trying to pick up where I left off because Nathan needed his mother, but every time I walked into his school, all I could think about were the things everyone else was thinking. Feeling sorry for me and avoiding me. I now understand that they avoided me because there was nothing good enough to say to a grieving mother whose eyes looked like they were on a short pause from crying. Those days were shattering for me. But I never forgot her because every time I walked in there, it was like she knew and she held my hand through the rest of the school year.

Love

This morning, our eyes met and I knew she remembered. We talked about Nathan but neither one of us had the courage to go back. I wanted nothing more than to give her a big hug and let her know how vital she was to my survival, but I couldn’t. My voice immediately cracked, my eyes filled and my body weakened. I couldn’t say thank you.

I’m not beating myself up about it. Like I have said before, grief is like the ocean waves, you never know which wave will knock you down, but you must get up, over and over again. I truly hope she knows what a beautiful person she is and how her kindness still inspires me. And next time, I hope I can get a step closer to telling her.

xoxo

A Word of Encouragement

February 15, 2017Leave a comment

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Often times I get so caught up with the things I’m asking God for, that I completely forget about the things he so diligently provides me with. The last couple weeks have been a bit difficult for my family as we slowly enter grounds we have never had to before. Last week I dropped Nate off at school, jumped in the car and let it all out. I cried the way Nate and Lei cry when they want one more piece of chocolate and I won’t budge (serious crying here 🙂 ). Thankfully Eric was in the car and he was able to bring me back by reminding me of God’s goodness. And this is the thing, His goodness is so good, it is overwhelming. He is here to overwhelm the things that overwhelm us.

In the midst of difficult moments, He is always there although it may seem as though he is absent. The more I calm my mind and let go, the more I seem to see his hand over my life. Difficult moments will always be part of our life simply because we live on this earth, but they don’t have to be hopeless. God delivers us hope. He has given us the weapons with which to battle against anything. Crying is welcomed. He listens and he loves us for who we are. He understands.

Thankfulness is key. Do what you can for others because you can. You have the power to change the atmosphere of any circumstance. Be bold. Go about your day knowing that he will deliver, because he will. Perhaps not in the way that you expect it, but he will never let you down.

Happy hump day!

To be Brave

December 5, 2016December 5, 2016Leave a comment

Yosemite Family Hike 2015

Bravery is said to be the act of being ready to endure danger or pain; showing courage. But it is so much more than that. We can all take pain or endure danger for our loved ones, especially if you have children.

Nate & friend taking a breather

Life hands us so many things. Some good and some that we would rather hand over and toss in the trash bin. But that’s not the way life works. We must roll with the punches. Play the hand we’ve been dealt. We all end up doing so. And this is where courage takes place. Courage to deal with the worst possible news in the most positive way possible, even when it feel completely unnatural to do so.

2014

I had a conversation with my mother this morning. We’ve been given some life altering news. We sat there processing together, while our hearts felt every emotion in the book. While I came in with the goal that I was coming in to comfort, I was comforted. My mother, she is the epitome of Bravery. She has fought breast cancer since 2001, and never has she given up, lost hope or wavered in her faith. And let me tell you, there been plenty of times and reasons to waver on this long journey.

Thanksgiving 2016

It takes courage to say, no, I don’t want to undergo another chemo therapy session. I don’t want to undergo anymore. It takes courage to say yes to another chemo therapy session. Another radiation session.

It takes courage to support your loved ones’ decision. It takes courage to walk the road with them, hand in hand, every set back, victory and tear. It takes love to hold on to hope, when little has been given. But we are not alone. We’ve never been alone. It’s always been us and our Father, walking in front of us, holding our hand, head high, telling us to keep on, keep on, because the battle is not over.

The power of prayer is remarkable.

The power of love is extraordinary.

The power of kindness is incredible.