Bunnies and rainbows and bears, oh my!

I have to say the inspiration today was tough.  I knew going into this 30 days of gratitude challenge that it would start getting difficult toward the end.  I didn't anticipate it being difficult at day 9.  I have several things that I'm grateful for that I haven't mentioned yet, but those are reserved for specific days.  I'm guessing though, that today is being particularly challenging due to my current mood. 

I'm currently upset.  What triggered this recent bout of sadness?  I was tidying up and came across this decorative box we have in the living room.  In it, was a couple of Preston's books, that I probably read to him one of the last evenings we had him with us.  There was a "Houdini" sleep sack, which he'd outgrown a while ago, several pictures, bills relating to him and a toy of his.  I had to put them in a box along with a bunch of paperwork I need to go through next weekend, but just moving them our of the room felt so wrong.  I also had to put away some picture frames that I had made for our family last Christmas - they are puzzle pieces, and one of them is entitled "Family" and another "Preston", and it has a picture of us in the family one and a picture of him in the Preston one.  We don't feel ready to display the picture frames in the house, so I put them away in the guest room closet for now.  Tough.

Lastly, his baby book is also in the decorative box in the living room.  I never took the time to get it ready, but in it is the first Christmas card we sent out as a family.  The invitation for my baby shower.  His little hats from the hospital, along with the stickers they had on his chest in the NICU, to help them monitor his vitals.  I feel like I need to fill out his book before I start to forget too many details, but it's not going to be a fun, happy thing to do.  That's what it should have been.  Baby books are supposed to be happy. 

I took my upset self out to the deck, and there were bunnies in the yard across the green belt.  Just chilling.  And it reminded me that my son is still here in spirit.  On day 9 of my challenge, I'm grateful for all the little signs I've received from Preston.  All the bunnies I see, especially the ones that happen upon our front yard, or show up when you least expect them to.  I'm thankful for the beautiful, colorful rainbows that we've been blessed with so much this year. It's been a wet year for Colorado... at least from my experience sine 2008.  I come across feathers every now and then and think of my boy.

The theme of Preston's nursery was teddy bears.  His father, being from Chicago, is a big Cubs and Bears fan, so it only made sense.  He already had a good teddy bear collection going.  Needless to say, if I see a teddy bear, or a bear, I will see it as a sign from Preston...but I don't think I'd be super thrilled to see a bear on my deck...  We do live in Colorado, so I can't rule it out completely, but I can't say that would be the best sign to send mama!  A few months ago, I was walking downtown during my lunch break.  I think I was actually going to pick up my lunch which I had ordered at Jason's Deli... and I came across a elderly homeless man.  He was pushing a shopping cart, in the middle of the 16th Street Mall, and it was full of teddy bears.  While I thought it was very bizarre, I was thankful for having seen it.  What a precious way for Preston to show his mama a little sign.  I've come across a few "bears" since then.  When we were looking with my in-laws for a house in our area for them to buy, a few of them had bear statues on the front porch.  Brett and I came across a few as we took our evening walks too.

The extreme sadness comes and goes, as do the moments of elating happiness.  The signs are every where yet not present every day.  As I continue to ride this roller coaster ride that is life, I can only hope that the sharpness of the painful emotions diminishes with time.  But if it doesn't, it'll forever be a sweet reminder that my son meant the world to me, and that he took a little piece of my heart with him when he ascended to Heaven.

Home sweet home

Home is where the heart is.  Home sweet home.  There's no place like home.  We've all heard these sayings, but how often do we stop and really appreciate our home, what it provides for us and what it means to us.  On day 8 of my 30 days of gratitude challenge, I am thankful for my house; my home.

We've been living in this house for well over 4 years.  I loved it the instant we stepped inside.  It wasn't in an area we'd really considered living in, but I just really loved the house itself, the area, the trees and the views.

We'd been living in the northern suburbs of Denver since I moved to Colorado in 2008.  It was a really quaint apartment, I finally was comfortable with where everything was.  I was familiar with the new speed limits, highways, streets.  We almost bought a house a few blocks from our apartment complex, but the deal fell through and then we found this house, south of Denver.  It was more adjusting to a new area, but I became familiar, comfortable with it much quicker than the first time around.  I was sad to hear the reason the house was being sold - the previous owners were in the middle of a divorce.  I hoped that it wasn't a sign that there was bad "joo joo" in this house.  I've come to learn that you make your own luck, your own karma.  While tragedy has struck us, while you could consider us to be among the world's unluckiest people, we're still blessed with so much to be grateful about.

This isn't a sad house.  It is a loving, happy home.  While we might be dealing with devastation, this house is still full of love.  This house is the happy home that Preston knew.  It's the only home he knew.  It's where he first smiled.  It's where he enjoyed swinging, and bouncing.  It's where he was fed, where he slept, where he was cared for.  While I'm not a fan of moving, I always imagined we would buy a bigger house one day, most likely in the same neighborhood.  Now, I never want to leave.  I don't fear that Preston's spirit wouldn't find us where ever we go, but I just don't want to be away from where he lived, where he giggled, where he kicked, where he smiled that big smile of his.  Where he was happy, and where he made us feel complete.  That's where I want to be.

I love this house for its layout.  All the bedrooms are upstairs.  Our bedroom has an extra nook which we use as office space.  The living area on the main floor is open.  The basement is unfinished, like a blank canvas for us to do what we like with it.  When we moved in, it was move in ready but wasn't so modernized that we couldn't grow into it the way we wanted to.  A lot of work has been done outside.  We had to build a new shed when the one that came with the house crumbled after a hailstorm - well actually, it kept falling apart every time it was windy, or it rained...  This new shed - not going nowhere!  New roof, repaired fence, repaired deck stairs.  The stairs to the backyard have been leveled.  We had to replace our dishwasher when the electrical components decided to start burning... And that started the kitchen transformation.  When we save up enough, in comes a new stainless steel appliance.  I love my gas range double oven! I love what we paid for it even more, LOL.  I hate spending money... a problem my hubby doesn't share :)  We balance each other out really well!  Eventually, we'll have new counters, a nice backsplash... One thing at a time.

As you saw if you've been reading my blog, we have a new floor in our "front" room.  I don't know what else to call it.  Maybe our poker room?  We have a large poker table that we put in there.  Regardless of what to call it, I love the new floor, and I look forward to seeing the same floor in our living room.  Probably early spring.  Brett just steam cleaned the carpet in the living room, so I think it'll survive until then.  Looks so much better anyway. 

A good home must be made, not bought

This is a quote I read earlier, and I have to agree.  This didn't become home when we bought it.  It became home as we worked on it.  It became a home when we started making memories here.  When we had our first Christmas here.  When we celebrated finding out we were having a boy.  When we brought Preston home, and cared for him.  It became a home as we hosted friends for poker, dinner and other festivities.  It's a good home.  In just a few days, we will be hosting a fantasy football draft here with friends.  I know nothing about football, but I'm happy to be included and will be helping with recording picks, making dinner, and just interacting with old friends, and new friends.  I'm thankful that our friends feel comfortable in our home.  I'm thankful that family has a good time when they are over, and that we are able to provide them with a comfortable place to stay, away from their home.

I'm thankful for my home, because it's not only a roof over my head, which keeps me warm in the winter, and offers a cool environment in the summer thanks to our friend A/C.  I have a comfortable place to sleep, a functional kitchen to cook in, and a nice living room to relax in.  I'm thankful that we where able to give Preston a comfortable room of his own.  We've hidden away most of his things in his room now, so it looks messy, it's not easy to walk in.  It's remained pretty untouched since March.  One day, if we are blessed with another child, it will be hard turning it into the room of his younger sibling.  That wasn't the way it was suppose to be.  But hopefully, this room can once again become a happy room, a room filled with giggles, filled with coos.  Nonetheless, I have some memories in this room that I will cherish forever.

Values

I have to admit that I'm taking this idea from my aunt Jocelyn.  She's been doing the 30 days of gratitude along with me and one of the things she was grateful for, the values that her parents taught her.  Thanks for doing the challenge with me "the Tante".  On day 7, I am so grateful for the wonderful values my parents instilled in me.  More specifically - respect, integrity, determination and kindness.

I think learning about respect came at a young age.  Whenever we had company, or went over to someone's house as a family, we were always told to behave nicely, sit on the couch and be quiet.  Okay, perhaps it sounds harsh written this way.  It's not that we weren't allowed to be kids, but the principal was stay to yourselves, don't cause raucous, and don't be so noisy that it disturbs everyone else.  And so, we would watch a movie, or play a board game.  Play Nintendo, or a computer game.  If it was summer, more than likely we played outside, on the swing set, or in the pool.  Maybe even a game of hide-and-go-seek.  I have pretty good memories of playing board games with my cousins Annie and Marie, or showing them my uber computer skills on our old Apple II computer.  I remember playing Nintendo with my cousin Natalie.  I remember watching movies at my uncle John's house with my all my cousins.  I don't remember any running around and constant nudging on mom.  I don't remember being noisy, or my brothers being loud.  Everything was calm, and I think it had a lot to do with us respecting our elders (not trying to call anyone ancient here - just an expression).  I think it's something that is lacking with a lot of youth these days.  But, maybe I don't know enough youths to form an unbiased opinion.  I can only base it on the youths I see every day on the train, or at the mall.  Hopefully it's just a case of misinterpreted perception.

I think I have a pretty good ethical code.  I am not easily influenced.  I have my own opinions, not that I share them easily.  Perhaps I do more now with my blog, but it hasn't been something I've often voiced.  I like what I like, and you'll have a hard time dissuading me from those things.  I don't like to be the same as everybody else.  I am who I am, and I'm content with that.  I work hard.  When I'm dedicated to something, I stick to it (perhaps you've noticed with my writing in this blog almost every day).  I can admit when I'm wrong, though I might not liked it.  Again, I think that was something my parents taught me, with having their own sets of rules and regulations.  Do your homework when you get home from school and do it right is just one example.

Determination...  that's something I really admire about myself.  I've always aspired to be the best I can be.  My parents always pushed me to do well in school, helped me understand when I didn't get it.  They encouraged me.  Sometimes it was frustrating, because the encouragement came in the form of "where's the 4%" when I scored a 96% on a really difficult provincial exam.  But I know (now) that the intention behind it was just to give me motivation for the next exam and to keep trying for that 100%.  You start to waiver when you are satisfied with 90%.  That turns into 80%, 70%, 60%.  I think it was the right push to help me keep my motivation.  Motivation to get a good job in a new country.  Motivation to fight Crohn's disease when it was at it's worse.  And now, determination to keep on living, even though I am living with the most unimaginable thing that could happen to a person.  I would have taught the same to Preston... and I kind of feel like he had that determination in him.  He was such a little fighter when he was in the NICU and he just proved that he could grow up to be just as strong as other kids.  For whatever reason, SIDS took him away from us, and if it's something he could have fought against, I guarantee that he would have.  Sorry little guy, I'd have taken your place in a heartbeat.  I can only pray that you didn't suffer.  My new determination - keep on writing this blog, in the hopes of a) spreading happiness like Preston would have if he was still here and b) spread awareness of SIDS, miscarriage, stillbirth and other types of infant loss.  It's earth shattering when it happens to you, and I'd like to somehow create more support for those who live through it.

Do onto others, what you would like done upon you.  Don't judge a book by it's cover.  If you don't have something nice to say, don't say it.  Give a helping hand.  My parents taught me this by example.  They always helped out the neighbors, and their siblings.  They helped us, and did what they could to make us happy.  They never had anything bad to say about anyone.  They're just good hearted folks, and I'm blessed enough to call them Mom and Dad.  They couldn't have predicted that I'd have to live with an incurable disease like Crohn's disease.  They couldn't have predicted that I'd lose my firstborn child.  But, they gave me the tools to survive with dignity.  All I can say is thank you.

 

Annie, c'est ma photo favorite de toi! Go la couette!

 

Laughter

On this 6th day of my 30 days of gratitude challenge I am thankful for laughter.  Laughter is the best medicine.  That's a saying right?  I don't know that I'd agree that it's the best medicine, but it's a pretty darn good one.  Laughter will help you through tough times.  Laughter will cheer you up on a sad day.  Laughter is infectious.  Laughter can be one of the purest and most honest emotions.  And there's nothing quite hearing children laughing, now is there?

Being 16 weeks old when he passed, Preston didn't really get a chance to experience laughter.  He did have giggles though, and they were the sweetest sound.  It was this little high pitched yip.  Loved that sound.  Could have listened to it all day.  He would have loved laughing, and he would have laughed so much.  His dad can be so silly...and if you get him laughing enough, his laugh gets out of control and it's so contagious.  I hope you get to laugh and giggle all day wherever you are.

Just about an hour ago we started looking at "fail" signs on the internet after seeing a great one a friend of mine shared on Facebook (thanks Jamie - it made for an evening filled with laughter).  It was on a school bulletin board - "We appreciate our librarian gang prevention meetings" because you know, "librarian gangs are a real problem".  Quite honestly that was one of the best ones that we saw.  Another one which had us laughing showed two doors with signs stating "Do not block" and a heavy wood chest clearly blocking the doors with a sign stating "do not move".  What do I do? I'm so confused? Unblock the door? No can't move the chest!  Maybe you had to be there.

When Crohn's started causing me more and more problems, I would watch Friends a lot.  It was predictably funny, I knew nothing bad was going to happen, and it was just comforting.  I've probably seen every episode over 200 times, and I still laugh every single time I see an episode.  "Could I be wearing any more clothes?"  "You know, like a cow's opinion.  It doesn't matter.  It's moo."  "PIVOT!!!!"  "He's a transponster!!"  Haha, that show was really witty, and I appreciate it's existence so much.  It's become my ritual to put on Friends (and now Big Bang Theory or Modern Family), when I feel ill.  It's also a ritual to fall asleep to it.  I'd stopped watching TV before bed when Preston was alive, but I can't stand the silence anymore.  My mind wanders and I just can't sleep.  The background noise makes it easier.  Hopefully it's not something that stays forever... but in the meantime, it's a comfort.

Tonight, it is Modern Family that's on.  Right now, the episode where Phil has to get the printer to work at Jay's and where Gloria cooks a Columbian meal.  That scene where she has Jay try to scare the chicken from the spirits...Ed O'Neill kills me.  Which reminds me, I still need to watch a Robin Williams' movie marathon which includes Mrs. Doubtfire, and probably Aladdin.  What a great Genie he made.  :)

Laughter has been part of our lives since Brett and I met.  Laughter would have been part of every day in this household with Preston.  He may no longer be present on Earth, but his spirit lives through us, we think of him every day, and all we can do is keep on keeping on.  And sometimes, that means, stopping to laugh.  If  I can, I laugh every day.  By no means does this lessens the emptiness my son has left behind.  It simply reminds me that there are good things in my life.  There are things to be happy about, to smile about, to hope for, to be grateful for.  It certainly isn't a cure-all, or the best medicine, but it's a pretty darn good one.

Nom nom nom...

Nom nom nom - my version of yummy.  I don't remember if I started using the expression because it's something Brett uses.  Or if it's something I picked up while playing World of Warcraft.  Or perhaps when reading a Manga.  Wherever I picked it up from though, it stuck.  When I would feed Preston, I would say it to him a lot, when he needed to eat just a little more.  Did it work?  Who really knows, but I figured the easy repetitive sound might be helpful to him.  I hoped that by association, nom nom nom would trigger him to know food was coming, and that he was hungry.

We're so blessed to be able to eat as much as we want, when we want, and to a certain extent, what we want.  On day 4 of my 30 days of gratitude challenge, I am thankful for food.  I like to eat.  Actually I love to eat.  I would eat all day if I could, but I know better, lol.  It's so easy to take food for granted.  Yet, there are so many people that go without it every day.  In impoverished countries, and even in first world countries like Canada and the US.  So many children are malnourished and it's heart-breaking.  It's one thing to be an adult, where there are certain things you can do to try and help yourself.  It's another to be an innocent child with no knowledge or resources to find food.

I often find myself saying "I'm starving".  It's a poor expression we've come to adopt, and I aim to use it less in the future.  I've actually felt a form of starvation on more than one occasion.  When I was hospitalized for bowel obstructions, I wasn't allowed to eat for 7-10 days.  Granted I was on fluids to keep me hydrated, and on narcotics to numb the pain but once I was off the pain meds, the hunger pain could be felt.  It was nothing like when I'm hungry for dinner, because I'm eating an hour later than usual.  I can only imagine what it would be like to live with this feeling every day.

I don't want to go through life feeling guilty for enjoying a really cheesy pizza, or delicious beef tacos, or even a decadent chocolate cake.  I often have to restrict my diet because of a Crohn's flare-up.  I went a decade without eating salads which ironically are great for you.  I had to limit the amount of vegetables I ate, especially those with insoluble fiber for a long time.  I'm still careful with them.  I've had to go without most dairy foods for months at a time.  Ice cream is a rare treat for me.  All this gives me a greater appreciation for the food that we eat every day.  It makes me feel good that Preston never had to wonder when he would eat next.  We provided for him to the best of our ability.  I can only hope that the number of children who suffer from starvation only diminishes from here.

As you know, I'm hoping that November 19th, Preston's birthday, will be a day where everyone spreads happiness around the world.  My plan all along has been to make it a weekly event for myself.  I was planning on making a lunch and handing it to a few of the homeless people that I see every day on my way to work.,  The hope? Brightening their day, and filling their bellies.  But perhaps a better option would be to find a way to give food to children who need it.  Research project for the long weekend!

There are so many delicious things to eat.  Some of my favorites: juicy roast beef, pizza, Caesar salad, homemade burritos... and as fall approaches, I look forward to making my French Canadian Meatpie.  Nom nom nom...

That was for New Year's 2013 - That's what it says on the pie though it's hard to read.

Colors

 

 

 

I tried to capture the sunrise this morning.  The picture doesn't quite do it justice, and quite frankly, the sunrise this morning didn't do justice to the sunrises as of late.  Still it's very pretty and it makes me grateful.

 

And therefore, on day 4 of my 30 days of gratitude, I am thankful for my eyesight and all the colors that fill our every day lives.  I'm thankful because it creates such beauty, but I'm more thankful because it amazed Preston.  It made him smile, and there was nothing in the world like his smile.  It lit up the world and made it a brighter place.  Hopefully it still does through images.

 

We see the yellow in sunflowers and marigolds.  Yellow in the morning sunrise.  Yellow in the rubber ducky thermometer we used for Preston's bath.  Yellow for the cover of his favorite book.  We see orange in the sunsets.  We see it in the fall, with all the leafy trees.  Orange like the Bronco's Peyton Manning jersey/onesie Preston wore earlier this year.  Orange like the onesie he wore home from the hospital.  Orange like his birthstone, and Brett's, and mine.  We see pink in yummy pink lemonade.  Pink like the sun hitting the horizon, in the morning and evening.  Pink like the leaves on cherry blossoms in May. 

 

Red, so bright.  Like the roofs of the CU Boulder buildings.  Not only in Boulder, but on the painting in our living room; the one Preston loved to stare at so much.  Red like delicious raspberries and strawberries.  Like crunchy apples.  Like the dress I wore when we had family pictures taken, and that I last wore at his memorial.  We see green in the vibrant grass.  Green like the growing garden in the backyard.  Green ever so present in Preston's favorite painting.  Like the evergreens.  Green on the top of a ping pong table; a pastime Brett would have taught Preston. Green like frogs... Didn't you swim like a froggy during tummy time? :)

 

Blue like the sea.  Blue like the sky.  Blue like those pretty eyes my son batted at me.  Blue so predominant in the Cubs uniform.  Blue like your favorite blanket.   Purple adding another layer to each sunrise.  As I was getting on the highway.  Purple like Russian Sage, so prevalent in our neighborhood.  Purple like the spring lilacs.  Purple the last color of a rainbow.  I saw that double rainbow you sent yesterday by the way.  I also saw that white little feather in the grass by my car door this morning.  And the bunnies that have been hanging out in the neighbor's backyard all week.

 

So you see, there is beauty in everything thanks to color.  Colors warm up our sight, our life.  Colors warm our soul, fill our memories and make us smile.  I'm so thankful that Preston was able to develop a love for colors.  I'm so thankful they captivated his attention, made him smile.

 

My favorite colors are red and blue.  Perhaps because it's the colors for my favorite hockey team the Canadiens.  Perhaps it's because some of my favorite things to wear for Preston were those colors.  Perhaps because they are so vibrant.  What is your favorite color or colors if you just can't pick one?

 

 

 

Thank you for the support

Thank you!!

I haven't sent out thank you cards to everyone, or anyone for that matter, who attended Preston's memorial service.  I haven't sent out thank you cards to everyone who's extended their sympathies, cooked dinners for us, kept us company, gave us gifts to help with rough days, or to serve as a reminder of our son.  All this to say, on day 3 of my 30 days of gratitude, I am thankful for our support system.  Our loved ones, near and far.  Acquaintances we've met along the way.  Our support group at Angel Eyes.  The angel mommies from BBC and First Candle.  All you readers of my blog.

I stated before that I haven't sent out thank you cards.  It isn't that I don't want to, it's that it's too hard.  It's too hard to write out so many thank you cards.  It reminds me too much of the day we lost our son, of the day we had a memorial for Preston.  When you are a parent, the last thing you think about is making a decision about whether to bury or cremate your 16 week old child.  You don't think about what arrangements you want to have at his funeral, or memorial.  You don't think about the last time you'll ever hold them.  That being said, I hope you understand that I'm still not ready to send out thank you cards, but that I am ever so grateful for the support you offered us and continue to offer us.

Jocelyn, Barry and Charles were there from the moment everything happened.  You were there during the days that followed, whatever we needed.  I can't say I remember much about that first week, but I am ever so thankful for you guys because I would have had a hard time making any decisions.  Kate, you were wonderful too, and I know you would have been there sooner if you could have been.  Brett's parents were there within a day.  My parents, and my brother Ted flew in a couple days later.  Jason, I know you would have been there if you could.  I'm sorry that you couldn't be there and I know it must have been even more difficult to not be able to. 

The countless cards, emails, messages we received were overwhelming.  Yes, they made us cry but feeling your love and support has helped us more than you can imagine.  It is very easy to feel alone when you lose a child.  I can't say I have felt alone much.  I've had my husband by my side always, but I've also had all of you.

Cyn, Liz, Sherri, Aunt Jocelyn - your constant encouragements, comments, anecdotes are so helpful to me.  Cyn you have something to share almost every day and you have no idea how much that means to me.  Krystal, not only are you a source of inspiration with your own blog, your journey, your losses, but again you comment almost on every entry I have.  It means the world to me that I can connect with you in this way.  I'm sure Conner, Ben and Preston have become fast friends are smile down at their mamas every day.  Your support is invaluable.

The support group at Angel Eyes, what can I say... when we attended our first session, it was all very fresh.  We had just lost Preston 2 and half weeks before, but I can say it felt comforting to know we weren't alone.  Some of you lost your baby at daycare like us.  Some of you lost your first born like us.  Some of you lost a little boy, just like us.  More importantly though, all of you knew exactly what we were going through, and had wise words for us.  You told us we'd feel all kinds of emotions.  You told us that there wasn't a timeline for anything and that we had to be gentle with ourselves.  You reached out to us, gave us your phone numbers, told us to call, text if we needed to talk, whatever the time.  You gave us hope.  All of you are further down this terrible journey, and you are still standing.  Surely, we will find our way as well.

The angel mommies at BBC... there are so many of you.  The sheer number of new names I see on a weekly basis is heartbreaking.  And I know we are all at different stages in our losses, we all have different losses, but they are all significant.  Your kind words of encouragement on a tough day, your understanding of all the feelings I go through, and your letting me try to help you as well, really has made a difference in my life.  The same goes for the ladies and gents from First Candle.  Most of you having lost a baby to SIDS know exactly what I am going through and while we belong to the worst club on earth, hearing your stories, seeing your ups and downs, allows me to know that what I'm going through is "normal".

The ride to work and back were particularly difficult today.  For whatever reason, I was thinking about having gone back to work after my maternity leave.  I'd gone back to work on February 11th, and we lost Preston on March 13th.  I was struggling with the guilt of going back to work, I still am.  I didn't go back out of obligation, though part of the reason is wanting to continue living the lifestyle we're accustomed to.  Another part was making enough to help our kids through college.  The last part though is a little selfish.  I wanted to go back because work makes me feel fulfilled, not to say that Preston didn't make me feel fulfilled.  I've had times in my life where I couldn't work, and quite frankly, I was going stir crazy.  I need the mental stimulation.  I want the mental stimulation.  I feel like I'll always want to work to keep my mind active and sane.  But that guilt gets to me.  What if I hadn't gone back to work.  Would Preston still be with us? I wouldn't have left him alone for 30 minutes.  Maybe it was too cold at the nanny's.  As to not help my state of mind, the lyrics on Pandora repeated - "I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you"... Just about killed me to hear that.  I feel like I could have saved him.  But what I feel and reality, I know are two vastly different things.  I know that nurses and doctors within inches of babies who have died from SIDS could not revive them.  So, really why the guilt?  Will it always follow me like a shadow?

I digress though, really, I want you to know how thankful I am.  Thankful that you continue to ask how we're doing, knowing that the answer probably never will be "we're doing awesome".  I'm thankful that you respond to my blog entries with encouragements, anecdotes of your own relating to the topic of my last post.  I'm thankful for your hugs.  I'm thankful for the coffees, and lunches, though really they aren't necessary.  I'm thankful for your time and friendship more than anything.  I'm thankful that you speak my son's name, that you feel like you know him, that you think of him, that he makes you smile.  I'm thankful for your presence during the toughest time of our lives.  I'm thankful for your understanding, when we aren't quite all there around babies, especially blond little boys.  I'm thankful that you haven't shut us out, that you continue to invite us and feel welcome.  I've heard so many stories about people walking around on eggshells around angel parents, stop inviting them to social functions because they are awkward to be around.  I know it'll happen, days where we are more emotional, days where we are more vulnerable, days where we just can't get past the loss.  But I know that you'll understand.  On those days, you'll hug us.  You'll offer a shoulder to cry on.  You'll offer kind words, or you just won't say a word as you listen.  And for all that, for everything, I thank you.

My hubby

Day 2 of 30 days of gratitude

I am so thankful for my husband.  Our journey is not the typical one.  We didn't first meet in person.  We didn't get set-up.  We didn't meet on a dating website.  We did meet online, but neither of us was looking for a relationship.  When we first "met" I was actually in a relationship, but he became a good friend and it was always nice to talk to him.

We decided to see where things could go in the summer of 2006.  We were both single, and just had a good rapport.  We sent each other messages online every day, and talked on the phone for at least an hour every night.  It really helped us have a great communication basis.  And while, I still have an easier time expressing myself in writing, I know that I can tell him anything.  So not only did the strong communication give us a good base, it also established a lot of trust.  The distance also helped establish that trust.  You can imagine that living 3000 miles apart for a year and a half (11 months of it being married) can either make or break you.  If there's no trust, there's no way the relationship will work.

And so, 8 years after we started dating, and 7 years into our married life, we are still going strong.  Don't get me wrong, we've had our bumps in the road, but whatever life throws at us, I think it usually makes us stronger.

But enough about my marriage, I want to talk about my husband.  If you know my husband, you probably know that he's not the most patient person in the world.  However, you have to know that he's patient with me.  He's had to deal with the ups and downs of my health and he's been there through thick and thin.  He's had to make hard decisions when I was too out of it to make any kind of decision.  He's been patient with allowing me to heal after losing Preston.  We both want children really badly, and I think he's been ready to try again for a while, but I haven't.  And he's patient with me.  No pressure.  I just know where he's at, and he knows that when I'm ready, I will let him know.  He's been patient with my needing to figure out my own working out routine.  I know he wants to help, but for me to stick with it, I need to find my own motivation or I'll just give up in a few weeks.  I know he struggles with this because he always wants to help, but, I think he's been so patient giving me this space to figure things out.

Brett is a very generous person.  He's always willing to give a helping hand, or a shoulder to cry on.  He's a great listener and on top of being generous with his time, he's very handy.  He can do just about anything.  He just finished tiling a room in our house - all by himself.  He's fixed the steps in our backyard, built me a garden, fixed the stairs for our deck, and countless other things.  Who needs hired help when you've got this guy around? :)

 

 

My husband is really smart; the smartest person I've met.  I am always amazed at the amount of stuff he knows.  He's really good at explaining things, without beating around the bush.. and if it's too complicated, he always has another way of explaining it.  He's a history buff, and a human calculator.  He loves learning more and more and often watches shows to enrich his knowledge.  He's smart about knowing how to take care of himself by knowing how much to eat, what not to eat... not that he always succeeds... 2 whole pizzas anyone? ;)

 

He has a wonderful sense of humor.  He's been able to make me laugh almost every day.  He loves comedy, so there's usually something funny on TV when I get home from work, or he has a funny anecdote or story.  He often calls me at work when one of the cats does something funny.  For example, this week, our cat Acro, sneaked into the pantry.  Whenever we leave the door open, he'll sneak in there and make a hole in his food bag.  Well the bag is near empty and there's a hole the size of his head... so he got his head stuck in it and was running around the house trying to figure out how to get it off.  Funny story, and it made me smile.  So thankful that he thinks to call me to tell me fun stuff like that.

 

Brett's always in a good mood and it's contagious.  While, these past 5 months have been very difficult, he still manages to find a reason to smile and it's inspired me to do the same.  Inspired me to want to share my son, and try to spread more happiness around the globe to honor my son (and husband - I know he gets his smile from his dad).    He's a great source of inspiration for me.  While we certainly don't grieve the same, no one does, and I think we both take away different things from our personal journeys.  I'm thankful that he is by my side during this terrible journey.  I'm thankful that he's strong, and I'm thankful that he can show his emotions when he needs me to be strong.

 

He's a good looking guy to boot!  Wonderful blue eyes, Preston had his dad's eyes.  They turned grey just like his do.  He's strong and has great features.  I am one lucky girl :)

 

 

 

To my best friend, my husband, my second half - thank you for all that you are.  Thank you for always being there for me.  We've had a lot of lows, but I know we will survive this like we've survived all other obstacles.  Preston would be proud of how good of a person you are.  Love you forever.

30 days of gratitude

Over the past couple years, I've seen friends on Facebook post something to the likes of "3 days of gratitude", where you post 3 things that you are grateful for and subsequently nominate three friends to do the same.  When you a grieving the loss of a child, it becomes very easy to go to dark places, to be depressed and recoil into nothingness.  I am planning on doing 30 days of gratitude.  Every day, I will post something that I am grateful for, and elaborate on it.  I believe that finding 30 things to be grateful for will be challenging, but in the end, I strongly believe it will help me with my healing process. 

I will not be nominating anyone, but you are welcome to join me with this initiative.  Feel free to join through comments on my blog, on facebook, via email, via twitter, or BBC.  You can join at anytime.  You don't need to elaborate into as many details as I do.  You can simply state which day you are on and what you are grateful for :).  If nothing else, I hope you get something out of my gratitudes.  Sometimes, it's hard to realize what we are grateful for and we start taking things for granted.  It's just human nature ;)

Day 1: I am grateful for the 16 weeks I had with Preston.

My son was born November 19th, 2013 and while we had a rocky start with him being 4lbs 5 oz, we were able to take him home on Thanksgiving, November 28th (also my father in law's birthday).  The first days were scary, because he was tiny, there were no nurses, he'd make a lot of little noises as he slept, and it would just freak me out that something might be wrong.  I was terrified that he'd stop breathing especially while I was asleep.  I prayed to God every night asking him to watch over Preston as I slept.  I thanked him every night for watching over him and prayed again for him to watch over him.

We had a great 16 weeks.  He learned how to drink out of a bottle.  He loved looking at the colorful painting that sits above our couch in the living room.  He loved being read to.  We had him on a pretty strict schedule.  Every 3 hours I'd pump, and then he'd eat.  We'd play with him for a bit after he was burped, and then he would nap.  Rinse and repeat.  It was a well oiled machine.  As he grew older, stronger and bigger, every 3 hours became every 3 and a half hours, every four hours.  I think he was down to about 6 bottles a day when he was 16 weeks old.  He was starting to sleep from about 10:30-5:00.  I loved the evenings with him.  We'd listen to music, we'd play in his bouncer, we'd read books, do belly time.  This little piggy was losing it's luster for him, but he was loving raspberries on his belly.  I had started making a funny noise while pulling my tongue out at him and it would make him giggle so much.  Plus, he tried to do it too.  Remember that picture of him pulling out his tongue?  That's what he was doing.

He was a smart boy.  He appeared to be able to discern color much earlier than "they", whoever they are, say babies should be.  He told stories from the moment he was born.  He rolled over at daycare on March 6th.  He was just 15 weeks old, or 10 weeks if you adjust his age for when he should have been born.  He knew when it was time to eat and would start to squirm a little.  If you took too long, then he would cry a little bit.  He loved to look at the doggies (that looked more like bunnies) on his swing as they "ran" around in a circle.  His focus was really fascinating.  He was just starting to understand what it was to hold things, and was on the verge of discovering his hands.  It seemed to me, that he was just starting to get his first little teeth. 

He enjoyed bath time, but not as much as I thought he would.  You could tell though, that once he understood it a little more instead of concentrating on the fact that he was starting to feel cold, he would have absolutely loved it.  He was a happy boy when he was clean.  I've never seen a baby hate having a wet diaper so much.  A drop of pee and that was it.  I need a new one mama!  It wasn't rare that we went through 12 diapers a day, even at 16 weeks old.

Those 16 weeks taught me what pure and true happiness was; what true love was.  I am grateful for those 16 weeks, because I got to know the most precious being that ever lived.  Okay, so I'm biased, sue me ;).  He would have smiled all day if he didn't have to sleep and eat.  And while losing him has been the hardest thing I've ever had to do, I wouldn't trade those 16 weeks, even the hard ones, for anything in the world.

 

Gotta love how big his binky looks for him.  lol

 

 

 

On a side note, it's interesting the things you run into.  We went to dinner with my in-laws tonight and in the parking lot, in the spot next to ours, was this little stuffed bunny.  We don't usually go to Outback Steakhouse, and we hadn't planned on going out tonight.  But there was that bunny.  Signs come in all shapes and sizes don't they?

The word happy

Happy has become a tough word for me.  I used to throw it around really easily; Happy Friday, Happy Birthday, Happy whatever day of the week, etc.  It's so difficult to use now.  Whenever I find myself typing Happy Friday in an email, there's just this feeling that comes over me like it's wrong to write it.  It certainly doesn't feel happy.  Perhaps my version of happy is just different now.  It's not like I don't have happy moment or fun moments.  I certainly smile every day (or most days anyway).  I laugh almost every day.  It's hard not to with all the funny things my husband can say in a day.  But, that happy word... it's like a mental block.

I struggle with the thought of saying "happy birthday" to my son who's no longer on Earth.  How can it be happy if he's not here?  It's certainly not a celebration.  But again, it's probably more about perspective.  It can be a celebration, just not the party type.  It can be a celebration of his memory.  A celebration of what he brought to us, and what he's brought to everyone we know, and to everyone who's learned about him through my blog, or through my posts on BBC.  It will probably take me a while to be able to say "happy birthday" to Preston on each milestone - 10 months, 11 months, 1 year, 18 months, etc.  And maybe if I'm able to say it, the first couple times will be really painful.  But I promise this.  I will celebrate what you brought to my life.  Not only during the 16 weeks we had you in our arms, but for the other 35ish weeks that I carried you.  You changed my world forever.

I think it's kind of "funny" how I can so easily start typing as if I was writing directly to Preston.  I guess he was easy to talk to, to be around.  No judgment, no opinions.  Just pure love.  When does that innocence go away?  Isn't it a shame that no matter what, that innocence always goes away?  I guess I feel blessed with the fact that Preston never knew or understood anything bad.  All he knew was good, pure, happy.

So what's that pure little angel been up to lately?  He sent my friend Paula a nice sign yesterday.  Through a high window (vaulted ceiling) in her house, in the middle of it, and in the middle of totally grey clouds, was a blue heart shape.  How sweet is that?  He also sent many rainbows while she was on vacation, and a little bunny during a walk to cheer her up.

While I truly believe in these signs, even if you don't, can you see how much of an impact this little life has made on the world?  He makes my friends, my family and me smile.  He makes total strangers smile.  Whether they are signs or not, people in my life associate these things with him and it picks up their day.  Maybe, just maybe he really is spreading happiness.  Hopefully, we can return the favor and bring happiness to others - whether or not the word and concept are hard to grasp.



I love how the rays always try to shine through the clouds like some divine light from Heaven.  They often seem to do this near our house, and it's about the only place I ever see it.

 

This is from yesterday's sunset.  It's got some adjustments made to the color (HDR?), but just love the sky in this picture.  Makes me think of the colors I see every morning to the East.  The clouds are a dark purple blue color, the sky turns pink, then bright orange with shades of yellow.  It's like my own special rainbow, without the arch.  I wish I could take pictures, but I'm always driving as it changes.  I tried taking a picture from the train this morning, but I guess it didn't take since I can't find it on my phone.  Tomorrow is another day.

 



Last night

I really wanted to write a post last night, but I overate and felt sick all evening.  It had been a while since such a bout of nausea hit me, and I'm no stranger to nausea thanks to Crohn's disease.  Luckily, I still have some magic pills called "Promethazine".  Half of that little guy and I'm out like a light (plus it makes the nausea go away). 

I had a nice day yesterday.  Preston would have turned 9 months and another milestone promised to be painful, but I think by staying positive all day, staying busy and memorialized the day.  I had a busy day at work, it felt like nonstop emergency tasks one after the other, but I am so thankful for it because the day just flew by.  I had lunch with a good friend, which we hadn't done for a long time.  It was nice to be able to talk about Preston.  Then, Brett and I had pizza for dinner.  Preston's favorite food (well, I only know this from when I was pregnant). 

 

It felt really nice to have a peaceful day.  Instead, by thinking about eating something he liked, it made me look forward to the evening.  And despite the turn of events, I'm glad we did it.  Perhaps with time, we can build on what we do on each 19th.  One thing is for sure, the 19th will be forever a family day, and hopefully, they will become more and more peaceful with time.

 

I'm going to end on this short note tonight. I want to go to bed early in hopes to help my body recover from last night.  I look forward to tomorrow morning.   My friend Paula told me she had a visit from my sweet angel, and I want to hear all about it. I don't often look forward to the morning, so thank you Paula for giving me that feeling of anticipation, the good kind :)

 

 

Nice sunset tonight with the cloud and the mountains :)

 



Tomorrow - Day of Hope

I rather stumbled upon this by accident a couple days ago.  I'm not entirely sure where I even saw it - I want to say somewhere on Facebook.  I haven't read up on it as much as I would liked to, so I'd like to share an excerpt from the website which made me discover this amazing undertaking for bringing awareness to child loss, no matter the age. The website: http://carlymarieprojectheal.com/international-dates/august-19th-day-of-hope; the excerpt:

August 19th is about coming together as a whole community to openly speak about these children and celebrating their short lives. Each year thousands of people around the globe take part in The Day Of Hope by hanging up prayer flags in honour of their babies and children that have died. Many people also share our Prayer Flag awareness images on facebook, instagram, twitter and other social networks. These images can be found through my albums in the links below.  You can use the images on your own blog or website. Please feel welcome to post one of our awareness images as your profile picture on your favourite social media website! You can use the hashtag #august19thdayofhope

Obviously having only read this less than an hour ago, I don't have time to make an appropriate prayer flag, but I will definitely plan on making one soon, and proudly hang it.  Maybe one for home, one for work, one for my car?  The possibilities are endless of what I could do.  While Preston was only with us for 16 weeks, it still enabled us to learn a lot about him; about his likes and dislikes.  Likes: bright colors, lullabies, bouncing, doggies/bunnies, being read to, kicking, smiling.  Dislikes: being wet, loud things.  And of course, there's the things that we deduce he would have liked: baseball, bears, pizza, chocolate chip cookies.  It' interesting to think, after Preston first passed, I wanted to have a quilt made out of all his onesies and wrap myself in it every day.  Thinking about using one for the flag, I don't like the idea.  Funny how the mind works.  I guess I'm glad for one piece of advice we received soon after losing Preston - Don't make any important decisions for at least a year.  I feel that changing something of his, would be an important decision, because once it's changed, you can't go back.  So who knows what will ever become of this quilt idea.

The other part of the event is lighting a candle and joining the event by streaming it on youtube: https://www.youtube.com/user/CarlyMarieDudley

I'm thinking I want to tune in tonight at 8:30pm (so 7:30 PST, 10:30 EST).  It again, promises to be an emotional time, but at the same time, these ladies that are going to be speakers (8 of them?) may very well have things to say that are helpful to me.  Perhaps I will listen for a bit and it will be too much? At least I will be in the comfort of my own home, with mementos of Preston, with hubby somewhere close by.

I'm simply amazed by the different things angel mamas go out of their way to do for other moms who have lost.  Whether it be through a tree which carries the names of our angels, whether it be on a quilt with a memorial square for each of our babies, or with bracelets with angel wings to represent our losses.  There are others, who like me, somehow find words in the hopes of inspiring others, and put the names of their babies out there for the whole world to see.  There are others who create world wide events with people who will speak on this tough subject.  There are others who offer countless hours to listen to you vent, scream and cry.  There are some who help organize community events, like the Angel Walk from this past Sunday, to help memorialize our babies.  All these things make us feel less alone.  All these things mean the world to us.  All these things, create awareness and make us all a little more comfortable with sharing our stories, thoughts, fears.

In closing, I have to share a message I received today through BBC. 

I was responding to a post and was looking at your sweet boys pictures and I had to say his picture makes me smile everytime I come across your posts!! I will be sitting here wanting to cry and poof..I see his smile and I realize I'm smiling back at him..thank you for sharing him with us..I'm struggling sooo hard with the loss of my babies and this made tonight less hard

 I figured since I kept smiling it would be so much better to tell you than keep it to myself..I know how much it meant for me to be told from another lady that she loved seeing my belly growing when I posted pics of how big I got..just something so simple made my babies passing away feel a little less empty..
Preston seems to be smiling in every picture which tells me he was so full of joy and happiness that he would be happy to know he made a very lost mommy smile in her darkest days..Thank you for sharing your sunshine with this mommy who felt the rays :)

I had gotten to work early since I needed to go have my BP checked again today.  It's good by the way.  Another 6 weeks or so like this and hopefully that means I can come off the meds altogether!  For now, just being cautious and taking it slow as to not suffer a set-back.  Anyway, I didn't need to clock in for a while, so I checked on BBC for posts I follow on a daily basis, to see how fellow angel moms were doing this morning, and I saw that I had a message.  I just nearly cried my eyes out.  Preston, baby boy, you are making your mama so proud.  You aren't here anymore, but you really are spreading happiness.  You really do have a purpose on this Earth, even though you have grown wings to fly.  This just made my day, my week and is making me teary eyed all over again.  Thank you "ImTypo".  Your babies would be proud of you for sharing this moment of light in your darkest hours.

Sharing this per the permission of CarlyMarie (from her Facebook page):

Just a Sunday

It sure was a filled Sunday, a day which was supposed to consist of only baking (and relaxing).  My day began at 8:00 something when hubby woke me up wanting to go out for breakfast.  Breakfast is certainly not my favorite meal of the day.  I don't like eggs, which are in 80% of all breakfast items.  For a long time I couldn't eat pancakes because they would just upset my intestines.  I've found it difficult to start eating foods that I couldn't have for the longest time; especially when they always caused pain.  So, I'm not the biggest fan of pancakes either...  that leaves... not much :P

But to the point, we were going to go to have breakfast, but it was at a restaurant that's about 30 minutes away.  Then, we were going to go visit our friend Charles who had invited us over to meet his new puppy.  Given that I wanted to bake for a large portion of the day, and that Brett needed to finish putting down the tile in our "front" room, we opted against going to the restaurant and just stopped for a quick breakfast at McDonald's on the way to Charles' house.  We stayed at his place for a little over an hour, I think.  We played with his new puppy, and his 1 year old son.  That little guy sure can run around now, wow.  It always makes me wonder where Preston would be at.  It doesn't make me sad, but it just makes me wonder, you know?  How many teeth would he have? What foods would he like?  Would he be saying a couple words, or be on the cusp of it?  Would he be crawling?  Regardless, I'd be proud of my little guy, and I'm proud of his best friend.  Keep it up big guy!!

When we got home, I started getting everything ready for baking cookies, only to realize I was out of vanilla.  Really?  When did that happen?  Brett had to go out to do an errand and he offered to pick some up for me.  What a lovie!  I took a little break until I remembered that I have a double oven now!  Ta-da!  I started working on getting the bread ready.  Got it in the oven just in time for the vanilla to come home for cookies and with my in-laws!  They were in the neighborhood having closed on the new house this week.  Wanted to scope out the place more carefully before it's rented out and they can't come and go as they please.  A few hours later, several batches of cookies and 2 loaves of bread were ready.  One loaf, already gone and eaten! That was fast! lol

This is the cheddar-apple loaf.  It feels like it's missing something, but I can't quite put my finger on it.  Others seem to disagree since one loaf has already been eaten.  The cookies are, believe it or not, cholesterol free! Or so says the recipe.  I'll take its word for it!  They are a little crunchier than what I was hoping for.  Hopefully the two slices of bread I put in a Ziploc bag with the cookies helps soften them up.  It's worked in the past.

A lot went on today, yet it doesn't feel like the day flew by.  There was a walk today for angels.  A walk to remember, where you walk to honor your little one that has passed on.  I really wanted to go, but felt unprepared.  Unprepared for the emotional rollercoaster that would go on in my mind.  Unprepared because I didn't have any signs, hadn't invited anyone, hadn't raised any funds to help the organization that organizes this annual walk.  It's organized by the same organization which holds the monthly support group I attend.  Hopefully next year.  I want to do everything I can to honor my little boy and felt guilty for not being prepared for this day.  Hopefully this guilt is just something temporary.

I did read something inspiring today though.  This one mama  has two angels, Conner and Benjamin.  I've been reading her blog and it actually helped me find the inspiration to start my own blog.  I'm so thankful for it too, because it has really helped with my healing process.  So, thank you Krystal!  Back to how she recently inspired me.  On every 10th of the month, she celebrates the birth of her two boys instead of grieving their loss.  Like this week, she and her husband went out to breakfast and she ordered orange juice for them, since it was something she craved during her pregnancy with the twins, but it's something she usually can't stand.  So sweet!  I didn't really have any cravings with Preston, but he would move a lot when I had pizza.  Perhaps the 19th will forever now be pizza night.  Another small way I can honor and remember my son.  Not all gestures have to be large.  Not all gestures have to involve the world.  Some can be just between me and him, and his dad.  We miss you little man.  Hope you could smell the cookies and bread mama baked today.  Did you flap your little wings around to come down to smell baked goods for a few minutes?

PS. I was also going to make a hot milk sponge cake but I couldn't find my cake pan and remembered that I packed it away when I emptied the china cabinet.  The cake will have to wait.

Breaking the Silence - Part I: Mentioning my child's name

My absolute worst fear came true.  I prayed and prayed every night for God to watch over my son, Preston. I prayed He would watch over Preston as he slept, while my husband and I weren't there or were asleep ourselves.  My prayer was answered for 16 weeks but on March 13th, my little boy did not wake up from an afternoon nap while at daycare.  There is no reason.  There is no one to blame.  That perhaps makes it harder.

I've been blessed with having an amazing support system throughout this painful experience.  Unfortunately, not everyone has the same.  There are many parents out there who actually have to deal with cruelty on top of ignorance when it comes to losing their baby.  I'm hoping that we can create better support systems for others who unfortunately will walk down the path that I am currently living through.  Some walking through it this path experience a loss during pregnancy, but it is a loss nonetheless.  It is no more or less of a loss. 

Don't get me wrong.  I don't want everyone to understand exactly what it is to lose a child, whether through miscarriage, stillbirth or infant loss.  The only way to truly understand is to live it, and I wish no one ever had to live through it.  Sadly, reality had proved these things will continue to happen, which is why I believe it is a great reason to start breaking the silence.  There are many other taboo subjects that are much more mentionable now when you compare it to 20 years ago.  Take AIDS and suicide for example.  They are much more prevalent in discussions.  And not in a derogatory way.  There are fundraisers to raise money in the hopes of finding a cure for AIDS.  There is a lot of talk about mental health, especially in the light of Robin Williams' recent death.  While there will always be cruel people out there ready to take stabs at people who are grieving, suffering or struggling, I believe the majority of people are good hearted.  If these topics are now less controversial to mention, isn't it foreseeable that we could make miscarriage, stillbirth and infant loss less of a forbidden topic?

In the first part of this Breaking the Silence series, I'd like to tackle the following subject: Mentioning my child's name (or my pregnancy).  I believe that many people who have not experienced a loss think that saying Preston's name will bring me to endless tears and send me into a downward spiral of pain.  Hearing my son's name mentioned does not remind me of his death.  I think about him every day and I know that he is no longer around.  I suppose I could be caught off-guard if someone mentioned his name, and it could subsequently make me cry, but it doesn't mean that you've reminded me of his death.  It doesn't even mean that I'm crying tears of sadness.  You could totally move me in a positive way by mentioning his name, bringing me to happy tears.  The fact that you think of him, or that you thought about my pregnancy, it makes me happy.  It means he's impacted your life, if only a little.  He left a footprint in our world.  He is doing what I think he was born to do - spread happiness.  "There is no foot too small that it cannot leave an imprint on this world".

There are instances where hearing Preston's name could be hurtful, like if someone said: "Preston's in a better place"... No, no he's not.  But, anything like: "I thought of Preston today", or "I think Preston would have liked this", or even "I dreamt of Preston" and "I think of you and Preston a lot".  These things mean the world to me.  They are touching and to a certain extent, bring me peace.

To assist in my goal of breaking the silence that revolves around mentioning the name of an angel baby, whether this baby became an angel in utero or after being born, I posed the following questions to fellow angel mamas on the "BabyCenter" forums:  How do you feel when someone mentions your baby's name and/or your pregnancy?  How do you feel when no one mentions your baby's name and/or pregnancy?  I received several answers and several of these answers are below.  I am hoping that these testimonies will aid everyone in seeing how important it is to break the silence that surrounds miscarriages, stillbirths, and infant loss.

One mama said the following:

When people mention my pregnancy my first reaction is to be sad but once I start talking about them it actually makes me feel better.  By talking about them it reminds me that yes they were real and as much as it hurt to go through two miscarriages they actually made me stronger, a better mother to my 6 year old, and they have brought me and my husband so much closer.  If I didn't talk about them it would feel as they never existed and they did.  I have two angel babies that I will forever love and will think about everyday.  I wouldn't want them to be a secret.

Another mama that I have gotten to know pretty well, Kerri, shared that no one talks about the daughter she lost four years ago, little Jaylynn.  She shared that having no one in her life that mentions her little angel hurts and drives her crazy. It might have happened four years ago, but she still loves Jaylynn and wants to talk about her always and forever.

Another mama share:

No one brings up my Benjamin to me.  I was 15 weeks pregnant and although tiny, I delivered him & held him and loved him.  I had him cremated and he is at home with his family.  I want to talk about him.  No one does.  When I try to talk about him I am ignored or shut down and the topic is quickly changed.  I have learned not to talk about him. (...) I hope no one ever feels as alone as I have in the loss of my child.  What should be taboo is people not acknowledging a life and death and grieving family.  No matter how big or small that life was.

As you can see from these comments, many families deal with not being able to share their pain.  They are unable to mention the life they created and carried, even if for a short while.  They are already grieving the loss of a baby, and have no one to talk to.  They are "shut down" and pushed away.  It is understandable that the subject of miscarriage, stillbirth and child loss are painful ones.  Keep in my that grieving parents already deal with daily pain.  Letting them talk about their child releases some of that pain, and helps them acknowledge that their baby existed.  Is there a reason the world should be so closed to hearing their story?

More testimonies?

Nobody brings up my loss- at all.  Not once since it happened.  (...)  After I came home from the hospital, they changed the subject each time something pregnancy related came up in a conversation.  Even now (almost seven months later), it's still an awkward subject for them...  It just makes me feel... I don't know, guilty in a way?  That I'm putting them in such a difficult place.  I wish the subject wasn't so taboo, and that people were okay to talk about it.  I feel so alone, and I miss my baby every day.  It sucks that I feel like I'm the only one who remembers him/her.

I love talking about my Silas...I think it makes others uncomfortable how open and comfortable I am talking about my angels (...) but I'm never silent about them. 

My baby Madelyn was born at 28 weeks and only survived for a few hours.  I just returned to work last week.  Everyone was instructed not to ask me about her but I kind of wish they would.  Despite the fact that it's sad and it might make me cry, I love talking about her.  I feel like talking about her keeps her memory alive and if no one does then she will be forgotten.  I have a picture of her on my desk and I wish people would tell me how beautiful she was.  I wear a necklace with an imprint of her footprints and I wish people would use it to start conversation about her.  I know they are just worried that it will upset me.  I guess I have to start talking about her to let them know that it's ok.

People don't know what to say, or say the wrong things.  Our culture denies death and grief.  We need to be educators for other people.  We need to tell them what to say, what not to say, what we need from them.  They do not know.  We only know because we are feeling this way.  I wish people would get more comfortable with appropriate talk.  Breaking the silence is very important. 

So perhaps part of breaking the silence lies on the shoulders of the grieving parents?  For sure, I think that it's definitely part of the equation.  If none of us bring our children up, it's highly possible that others won't either.  They could be under the impression that it's too painful.  They also very well may have forgotten.  Out of sight, out of mind?  But, really I think it's a battle that we have to face together.  As grieving parents, mention your child.  As friends, family, co-workers, just be there to listen.  If you do think about your grieving friend or their baby, tell them.  They need love and support.  And often the support they need is to talk.  Talk about their experience.  Talk about their pregnancy, or their baby.  Words of encouragement to tell their story, or talk about their baby, might be all they need from you.

One mama I've gotten to know, shared that when she and her husband decided to share the name they had found for their little girl gone too soon, Joanna Marsali, her family just looked uncomfortable.  She also mentioned sharing a picture on Facebook, one containing her husband's shoes, her shoes, and empty space and her daughter's shoes with the quote "Three sets of shoes on Earth and one in Heaven".  Every one was later acting as if there were walking on eggshells around her.  All this to say, that it's very hard for her to try and share her story, or anything about her little angel Joanna, because the feedback she gets is so negative and closed off.  Like mentioned above, it's not just about the grieving parents sharing their stories, it's about us as a society being able to listen.  Listen without prejudice.  Listen with only the intention to take in what is being said.  Listen to show you care.   

These testimonies really should make us think.  Think about what we need to do, to be more open to listening to the stories of grieving families.

I wish people would ask me about my experience with the birth and what we went through after.  I think if people knew more they would understand more, sure if I talk about it, I may cry but I am still happy to get it out.  I often ask myself "do they know we had him cremated?" "Do they know I had arrangements made for him?"  People at work and most of my family don't even know his name.  Sometimes I say his name out loud when I'm alone just to hear it.

I lost a 4 month old to lung disease..  I honestly only talk about him to my 2 close friends and my niece.. everyone else just doesn't get it.. (...)  Think before you talk.. people always say I can have another like he was a candy bar and I can just pick one up at the store.. I really wish I could talk about him more.. but to save myself from going off.. I don't bring him up much. :-(

The first week people asked how I was, but not about Hunter.  Now 9 months later, I feel like no one remembers him.  (...)  It's hard, my mom tell everyone she has 10 grandchildren.  I want to yell and say no you have more but they are not here. 

Other than my mom I have no one else to talk to about my loss. (...) 

(My husband's family) are closed books emotionally.  His mother doesn't deal well with any emotional issue and as a result she has not spoken to me once since I had our baby.  In the three week lead up to our baby's arrival when I started leaking amniotic fluid she only spoke to me to say it would be 'fine'.  It feels very isolating.  (...) I just want to shout at his family that our baby is real! (...) As the ladies who have previously commented said, I want to talk about our baby.  What makes it hard at the moment is that we are still waiting for gender tests to come back. (...) Perhaps people find it harder to relate to us at the moment because we can't call our baby by their name?  Or maybe I'm making excuses for them? (...) One of my closest friends recently asked me to tell her all about our baby and whether she could see pictures.  That meant the world.

Midnight shared:

No one asks about Chris... And it makes me sad... He existed... No one has mentioned thinking of him, or knowing that its getting closer to his angelversary/bday... And it hurts...  I talk about Jade and Chris because they existed, because I'm proud of my sons... Because I refuse to act like they didn't exist, like they didn't have an impact on my life...  I really wish that people that knew would ask about him... I love that I can come on here and talk about him and you guys will talk back with me and ask questions.  It makes me feel less alone when people ask of my angels.

As you can see, many mamas just want to share their story.  They want to share their babies with the world.  Much like mamas with living children like to share their baby's firsts, and beautiful pictures.  When you are the mom to an angel baby, you don't have too much to share, but that need is still there and it's not often met. 

I've mentioned before that we think about our babies every day.  One mom shares that no one calls her, or texts her, no one brings up her loss at all.  It feels "over", but it's not over for her.  Every day, there's that mental calculation that reminds her how much closer she'd be to having her baby.  Yet, he's buried in the woods with his sibling.  She states that the lack of acknowledgement towards the loss, makes your life even more hellish.  "The more quiet it is the more it hurts".

What a true statement.  If I couldn't mention Preston to anyone, I'd feel like he was forgotten.  I'd feel like the pain was even more difficult to deal with.  I'd certainly feel alone.  While I personally enjoy quiet things, quiet certainly can be isolating and lonely.  I can't sleep without having the tv on in the background.  The silence reminds me that I am not holding a baby monitor in my hand listening for anything out of the ordinary or a simple cry from Preston.

There are many more testimonies that I could share, but I will keep them for another day.  I think I've made the point I wanted to make.  Silence is like a blade in the already broken heart of grieving parents.  Not being able to mention our baby's name without getting the "I don't want to talk about this" look, or having the subject changed can make us feel like we are being quarantined.  Not hearing anyone mention our pregnancies or angels can make us feel like we can't share our stories.  While I personally don't feel ready to share the story of losing Preston, I think knowing that when I am ready, my support system will be there for me, makes it better.  If I didn't think I could share my story, it would make a difficult situation impossibly agonizing.

So, share this entry with everyone you know.  Your friends, your family, your co-workers, your neighbors, friends of friends.  Put it out there that we need to start taking steps in breaking the silence that surrounds losing a baby.  Put it out there that no matter how early the loss is, parents need support, they need to talk about their baby and they need to feel like their baby is acknowledged.

Dedicated to angels all across the world: Jaylynn, Benjamin, Madelyn, Elowen Bay (Ellie), Arabella Grace, Jenna Faye, Egypt, Silas, Joanna Marsali, Malakye, Samuel, Chris, Jade, Beanie, Hunter, Maliah, Joseph Dale, Diego Ramon, Victoria Lynn, Jaxson, Vida, Amia, Sadie, Anthony, Joaquin, Henry, Jacob, Abigail, Gabriel, Micah, Rain, Sophie, Davis, Arsn, Lylah Celeste, Michael, Angela, Ava Hope, Brianna Mae, Lilian, Maria, Matthew, Katie Ann, Jacob, Gabriella Faith, Ace Hope, Connor, Bella Rose, Zayra Rayne, Eddie Floyd, Hope, Hannah, Harper, Madison, Peanut, Deona Marie, Luna, Angel Ray, Davey Jr., Barrett, Anthony, Sam, Emma, Sammuel, Kamryn Michael-Wayne, Sara Brielle, Betty Jean, Xochitl, Salem, Jeffrey, Ryder, Devlin, Benjamin, Connor and of course, my two angels, Baby H and Preston.