Begone 2014

2014... A year I wish I could forget except for a handful of weeks.  Don't let the door hit you on the way out.  This year was challenging, not in a god way.  This year was sad.  This year couldn't really have been worse.  I don't hold grudges.  I don't like throwing hate out there, nor do I like being negative.  But good riddance!!

Ironically though, I feel a twinge of pain seeing this year end.  My son saw 2014.  He was alive last year at this time.  Pretty soon, I won't be able to say that.  It's a scary concept.

Dear friends and family, I wish you a happy 2015.  A healthy year.  Don't underestimate health.  It's such a privilege to have.  Be happy and smile more this year - think of Preston, I hope it makes you smile.  Challenge yourself because you only live once.  Be a kinder version of yourself, especially towards you.  You deserve all the happiness in the world after all. <3

My sincere best wishes for this new year that's minutes away.

Outpouring of love & support

I was contacted by two ladies I've met on the BBC boards and read their messages.  There was a mom who'd just lost her infant, and they felt like I'd be a good resource for her, and that it'd be a fabulous idea if I could reach out to her.  Of course I did so as soon as possible because I know all too well how difficult this journey is.  How alone you can feel even when you are surrounded.  How you try and recalculate everything you did to see if you could have done something differently.  How you are forced into making decisions you never imagined you'd have to make. A funeral.  Burial or cremation.  Do I want to hold my baby again or should I stay away because he/she won't look the same and it might ruin the memory of your child.  All decisions I had to make.  All decisions I had to make at the lowest point in my life.

When I connected to the forum thread about this mother losing her son Archer, I was floored.  I was absolutely bewildered in amazement by how much love and support this mom was receiving - on a non-loss forum.  Pages and pages of supporting comments, outpourings of love and women helping this mother through the absolutely worse time of her life.  Hugs.

Virtual or not, support can be so powerful.  It can lift you up and help you through the wild waves of grief.  While no one experiences grief the same, while all experiences are unique, while we are all on our own journeys, support can make such a difference.  This thread, where hundreds have replied to this mama's cry for help, and thousands have hugged this sweet soul, is a sign of what I've hoped to see since losing Preston in March.  The silence is breaking around losing babies.  It's less taboo.  It's talked about.  Perhaps there is hope for us not to be shunned because our stories are too sad.  There is hope that we will not be sequestered from future happy events.  Hope does float.

In the last couple of days, I've posted a couple times in this thread, in the hopes of letting this mom know that she is not alone going through this horrible journey.  I don't know that I've touched her, but something pretty amazing happened.  My blog went from 50-100 views daily, to 3500+ in the last two days.  A couple of people reached out to me.  One made my day yesterday - I got my long awaited sign from Preston:

"artisticdevelopment" writes:

...at lunch today the window of your blog popped back up on my phone with a picture of Preston smiling zoomed to the full screen. I don't remember doing that! I felt like he was saying "Hey! What do I have to do to get your attention! Write to my mommy!" I'm terrible at typing on my phone but I didn't want to waste any more time so I'm writing you now. I wish I had something eloquent to say but the best I can do is Preston was beautiful and he sure printed himself on my heart. Xoxo.

Just wow.  I cried.  I smiled.  My heart skipped a beat.  2014 has been a challenging year to say the least.  It started off so great... the best 9-10 weeks of my life.  I'd thought 2012 was a sucky year... Boy was I wrong.  I'm not sad to see 2014 go away, but at the same time, I did have some very happy moments.  As almost everything is in my life now, it's bittersweet.

Basically, all this to say, don't underestimate the power of love and support.  It can do magical things, as can positive attitudes, but that's a little difficult to have when you've lost part of yourself.  So thank you to all who are support Archer's mama.  To all that are supporting Evan's mama.  You are truly making a difference, even if you can't see it.  Those first few months are fuzzy, blurry and foggy.  I don't remember them well.  Re-reading my early blog entries and totally don't recall writing them.  Thank you for supporting them, and continuing to do so.  Thank you for helping break the silence.  Thank you, for your compassion.  Dare I say, thank you from all grieving mamas.

A cold winter day

Today was an almost perfect cold winter day.  The ground was covered in the purest snow of white.  The sky was vividly blue and void of clouds.  The air was still making the below freezing temperatures bearable.

I got an early start on my day and did the groceries as early as possible. I'd wanted to do so, in the hopes of getting a roast into the slow cooker for a nice dinner.  We bought a quarter cow from my in-laws last fall and still have a lot of meat left; many of which cuts that I don't cook with often.  I asked Brett to go pick one yesterday morning so that it could thaw and he picked a chuck roast.  I'd never really cooked one of these so I searched the ever reliable internet and found this recipe: Slow-cooker Pot Roast.  I noted a few ingredients which I didn't have and bought them today along with the rest of the groceries.  As I didn't read through the whole thing, I failed to realize I was out of red cooking wine, and beef broth.  How does one run out of beef broth anyways?  I improvised and used white wine instead of red, and vegetable broth instead of beef broth.

As the roast, vegetables and sauce started heating up, delicious aromas filled the house.  It sure made us both very hungry all day!  Every 2 hours, Brett would ask: "Is it time to eat yet?"

As the roast tenderized in the crock pot, I enjoyed a productive and fun day.  I reviewed a lot of paperwork, as kids outside were sledding down the small hill of the green belt that lies behind our house.  Just a year ago, I'd watched children doing the same, as I held and rocked Preston, all the whilst telling him how we would go sledding together the following winter.  How things change.  I didn't wallow in the pain of my loss though.  I just savored the memory.  Perhaps the intoxicating incense of the spices that permeated the house helped make it so.  Delicious food and smells have a way of making people happy, somehow, don't they?

In between piles of paperwork, I played a few games and did enjoy an evening with friends, online on World of Warcraft, as we attempted to defeat two different encounters.  While we were not successful, we learned a lot about the fights, and laughed quite a bit.  It's nice to be able to have fun and laugh.

An so, it was an almost perfect cold winter day.  Sitting by the fire, a cat on my lap, hubby by my side.  Only one thing it missing; a perfect, smiling little boy.

A new kind of Christmas

Christmas has come and gone.  It once seemed so far away, yet it appeared out of nowhere.  I dreaded this day, and now I don't have to worry about it for a whole year.  "The first of everything is the hardest", I've been told.  I've also heard that "the second year is often worse".  I don't know what to expect, and I don't wish to sit around trying to anticipate how difficult every future day of my life might be.  Instead, I will simply take each day on as it presents itself.  I highly doubt, any day can be worse than March 13, 2014.  If I could erase this day from the calendar, I would in a heartbeat.

So how was my Christmas?  It was tinged with sadness, but at the same time, I was surrounded by loved ones, my husband at my side.  Brett's mom had purchased a little candle for us to keep lit on this holiday, something Brett had requested.   We lit it on Christmas Eve and it was a very emotional ritual.  A sad reminder of what is missing, what will never be.  It was very powerful and hit me like a truck I wasn't expecting.

On a side note, I was already in a somber mood.  On my way home, an ambulance came blaring down the road going in the opposite direction... in the same direction it had gone to try and save my baby boy.  I cried the whole way home, which was just a few blocks.  I know in my heart that the EMTs tried so hard to revive Preston.  As did the doctors and nurses in the ER.  As did the nanny, I hope.  I still can't help but feel powerless when I see an ambulance, especially when it's lights and horns are roaring.  It's even worse when it's clearly coming from the hospital by our house, where I found out both my babies were gone.

I didn't sleep great Christmas Eve, not anyone's fault.  We had opened one present each that evening.  Brett was psyched to open his new gaming laptop.  I think that was the happy highlight of the night for me.  For a long time, Christmas to me has been about giving.  Don't get me wrong, I don't dislike receiving presents but I have more than I need, so it's very difficult for me to give ideas for presents.  I'm always thankful for what I receive, and this year is no different.

Christmas day was fun.  There was a lot of cooking in the kitchen.  A lot of laughter as we joked around.  We opened a lot of presents and everyone seemed genuinely happy.  Preston's Nan had put up a stocking for him, filled with Hershey's kisses.  Everyone received a kiss from Preston.  It was bittersweet, but it felt really nice to have a moment dedicated to him.  We ate more than we should.  We reflected on what were were grateful for.  While the Lord did not answer all my prayers this year, he did bless me with a sweet little boy for 16 weeks.  For the rest of my life, I pledge to share him with anyone who will open his heart to him.

There was no Christmas miracle, but Preston's presence was around.  I didn't feel him, or see a sign from him, but I know that he wasn't terribly far away.  I hope to see signs again, one day soon.  I really long for them.

And as for a Christmas wish, I'm still struggling with making a wish since they've seldom come true.  But if I can wish for something simple, it's that everyone had a nice Christmas with family.  That everyone had safe travels. That if you were without a loved one, that you found a way to smile, if only for a moment, and that you found a way to incorporate your loved one into your celebration.

Filled with kisses from Preston

Thanks to hubby for putting the meat pie together as I napped on Christmas day.

The Lonely Red Tree

For the past month the picture above has been what I stare at, from my seat on the train as I await for it to depart for Denver.  Why are the lights on all these trees white, except for a lone one which garnishes red little bulbs?  I've hypothesized for a month now.  I'm sure I'm reading way too much into it, but so go the thoughts in my head...

Christmas is a time of light.  A time for happiness, a time for family.  A time for celebration, a time to be grateful for Jesus and the sacrifices He and God made to give us this life that we have.  A time to rejoice.  However, for some, Christmas is not as joyful.  Some are homeless.  Some are alone.  Some are apart from their families as they try to protect our countries.  Some are without a loved one because they passed away this last year, or maybe years ago and it's just not quite the same without them.  For some, Christmas is a painful reminder of what they do not have.  I think this is well represented by the slew of trees decorated in white surrounding the one lone tree adorned in red.

You have to notice though, this lonely red tree is not off on it's own.  It is flanked by the sea of white lit trees.  Do I feel lonely this Christmas without Preston?  Absolutely.  Do I feel sad this Christmas because my son isn't here to see wrapping paper fly all around him? That he doesn't get to enjoy playing with the box instead of the toy inside of it?  Undeniably, yes.  Do I feel incomplete as I sit surrounded by loved ones?  Unfortunately, I do.  However, I am that - surrounded by love, by light.  Just like the little red tree.

Not only is Christmas about coming together with loved ones, but it is also about opening our hearts to those less fortunate.  We donate to food drives, and charities.  We give coats that we don't use anymore.  We offer our homes to those who don't have a place to celebrate.  We have light in our hearts and don't ostracize the sad, the lonely, the hungry.

To whoever decorated those trees, thank you.  Thank you for the reminder that I am not alone feeling this way on Christ's birthday.  Thank you for making me think all month, and come to peace with the fact that it is acceptable for me to feel sadness throughout this holiday season.  Thank you for giving a new meaning to the town of Lone Tree, that same town my son was born in.  This little lonely red tree gave me a lot of inspiration, and hopefully it did for many others.

Wishing you a Merry Christmas.

Tradition metamorphosis

Growing up, Christmas was filled with tradition.  We would go to 8 o'clock mass at l'église de Ste-Geneviève and for a couple years, St-Thomas a Becket since I was part of the choir in grade school.  We listened to the readings and the sermon.  We sung along to the Christmas carols sung by the choir.  My favorite was always "Angels We Have Heard On High".

After mass, we would spend an hour or so with our neighbors, at their house.  The adults would sip eggnog as we the children wondered what Santa was to bring us in a few hours.  We pestered our parents, I'm sure, to find out when we were going home.  When the time finally came, we were told to go to bed, so that mom could finish the midnight dinner and so that Santa could come and leave presents for us under the tree.  To this day, I still swear that one night.. I heard the giggling of bells on our roof.  Crazy right?

A few hours later, we were awakened.  Santa had come down the chimney and spread out presents, perfectly and neatly under our tree.  We ate appetizers and opened presents, raveling at the prizes we were just awarded.  Once we were done, we had a nice family dinner in the dining room, at around midnight or 1am.  Roast beef was usually on the menu, along with other deliciousness like mashed potatoes and tourtière.  Dessert often included chocolate goodies or petits fours.  Yum!  I wish I could recall this a little better.  We then went on to play with our loot until the wee hours of the morning.  We went to sleep, and woke up to a Christmas morning brunch.  We sure did eat well..  Thanks mom!

As we grew older, and the illusion of Santa lost it's luster, the unwrapping of gifts was prolonged as one present at a time was opened, so that all could see what the other received.  It was a good time, and I really enjoyed spending that time with my family, and observing their expressions as they opened gift after gift.  I guess the presents didn't matter so much.  It was more the thought behind them.  I struggle with finding the perfect gift more and more every year as we are all at a point in our lives where we really have everything that we need.. or at least anything that can be bought that we need.  Somethings you just can't buy.

Now that I am in Colorado, there is no Christmas Eve "Réveillon".  That is more a French-Canadian tradition.  I do feel though that I've been able to incorporate some aspects of my previous traditions into my new traditions.  We are allowed to open 1 present on Christmas Eve.  Sometimes we even get to open our Christmas stocking on Christmas Eve.  The Christmas stocking is a new tradition for me.  We didn't put those up as children.  There was one big stocking that my mom filled with presents, one for each of us.  We have appetizers and drinks and spend family time together.  The next morning, we open presents, one at a time, and the person who last opened a present, gets to choose the next present to be opened.  I rather like that.  We had started doing the same back in Montreal, and I assume that this has continued.  Later on Christmas, we have an early dinner which is very traditional - turkey, mashed potatoes, green beans, stuffing, rolls.  Since I started making my meat pie, it was added to the menu, and I don't think any of us would feel that it is Christmas without it.

This year, yet again, I believe that our Christmas traditions will experience a metamorphosis.  I would like to have a candle lit the whole time, for Preston, so that we think of him throughout the festivities.  Perhaps, he will feel our love for him and stop by for a little visit in the mountains at his grandparent's house, which he only visited once.  I hope that in the years to come, we go back to driving around our neighborhood to see the beautiful lights and decorations that have been put up to spread light and cheer.  I hope that it makes me smile, like it used to.  I hope that I find the courage to set up my Christmas village again, and that perhaps, by then, Preston has a little brother or sister that can admire it.

And maybe, just maybe, we can put up a stocking for Preston, where anyone can drop a letter to him, or what they wish he got to see, what we think he might be like.  Perhaps that will be too hard, and the stocking will need to simply be reserved for the sharing of happy thoughts, for us to read to each other and remind ourselves, of all the things that still exist that make us smile, bring us happiness.

Have your traditions remained the same throughout the years? Have you been able to incorporate old customs into your current festivities?

How is that comfortable?

Cats live like royalty.  They own whatever room they are in, and will not let you forget it.  There is no rule they won't break.  They are waited on hand and foot.  They don't have to work.  They sleep and play as much as they like.  What a life!  Yet it's not a life that I would enjoy living.  I spent months being unable to work because I had to wait for paperwork to be processed by the government and it was depressing.  I don't know that I'd enjoy having someone do everything for me.  I enjoy cooking.  I could probably do without the housekeeping duties, it's not something I enjoy at all.  I'm certainly not a great housekeeper, though I am trying to get better at it.

The cat trait I'd love to inherit though is being able to find comfort anywhere.  Whether it be in a box that's too small for me, sprawled out of the cold floor, or on the bed, with part of me hanging off.  I don't find comfort in a lot of places.  I can't fall asleep in a moving vehicle.. which made for an interesting trip to Hawaii for our honeymoon.  I know we had a layover somewhere... Oakland maybe.. and there was a delay, or there was just a really long wait between flights.  I think I was so tired that the details are really blurry.  All I know is I hadn't slept for what felt like 24 hours, and just totally crashed when we got to the hotel in Waikiki Beach.. Oops!  Though I blame Crohn's Disease too.  Pre-surgery, I slept a lot more.  It wasn't rare that I'd sleep until noon on the weekend.  I usually don't get past 9:00 am now, but it's usually closer to 7:00 or 8:00.  A little bit better than 5:00 on weekdays right? :)

All in all, I don't sleep well if I'm not at home in my own bed.  I love watching TV, but need a blanket for ultimate comfort.  I would snack all day long if I could because that too is very comforting to me, but that wouldn't really make sense for a girl trying to lose weight.  Food, warmth and sleep.. the trifecta of comfort!

I don't know how cats find it comfortable to fall asleep on the cold hardwood floor in the middle of winter.  Some things make sense, like Acro napping all afternoon in front of the fire place... oh so gracefully with his belly in the air.  I actually think that it would be too warm to sleep right by the fireplace, but I'm not a cat so who knows.  I guess that as long as they find it comfortable, I can't say I have a problem with that.  I love that they are comfortable.

I find my home as a whole comfortable.  There are a million projects to make it even more so, but I want this to be my forever home.  We dreamed of bigger houses as our children got older.  With Preston no longer being with us, I don't want to leave the comfort of this house that he knew as his only home.  It was comfortable to him.  He unlike me, could fall asleep anywhere.  The vacuum cleaner didn't wake him up, nor did the roar of the train in the distance.  I need a lot of coziness to stay asleep.

Regardless of my inability to sleep soundly like the rest of my family, including my crazy cats, this home is filled with warmth.  This home will forever bring me comfort as it's a reminder of the life that Preston lived, even if just for a short while.

What is your trifecta of comfort?