Saturday, September 22, 2012


I always knew I'd be a mom. Always. I'm not going to lie, it's been a lot harder than I ever thought, but it has also been the most rewarding thing I've done in my 27 years of life. I grew up with two brothers and my mom is the only female out of six. Still, I never could have imagined that I'd have four boys. Four!

I always imagined dolls and little, pink toys laying around my home and combing long curls and applying lip gloss to tiny women eager to be all grown up. It never crossed my mind that I'd be helping little boys put transformers together or planning secret missions accross dangerous territory with plastic guns and RPGs at hand.

I believe it's human nature to want what you don't have. For yourself as well as others. When you see a mom with all girls, your first instinct is to ask if she wants a boy and the same thing for moms of boys. I'd be lying if I said I've never had that same thought, but life and circumstances have a way of teaching you to mind your own business.

Not long ago, after Ian passed away, I had someone say "well at least it was just another boy and not a girl". I suppose it was a sorry attempt to be comforting, and I'm sure this person has never had to say goodbye to their baby's little body and watch a nurse put a blanket over his sweet little face while wheeling him out of your hospital room for the last time. And I hope with all of my heart that this person never has to go home with a memory box of their child's footprints and a lock of his thin, brown hair. As insensitive as that comment was, I don't wish this pain on anyone. And just for the record, no my pain wouldn't have been greater had I lost a little girl and no, my pain wasn't any less because I already had two boys at home waiting for their baby brother.

I can't tell you how my heart melts when one of my boys hugs me and says "I love you, mommy" or how happy it makes me to hear them making zombie/ war/ monster/ explosion noises or how I admire their love for one another, even after they get done trying to strangle eachother.

I love watching them play super heros and I can't think of a better way to spend my Friday night than eating popcorn and watching He-Man. I've also developed a unique love for Transformers and Hot Wheels. And bathing with Bubble Gum scented Spider Man body wash makes me feel a little closer to heaven.

Words could never express how much I adore my little boys. I love knowing that they'll always have each other. I hope that they grow to be wonderful, sweet, productive men and amazing fathers.

And my Ian, oh my Ian, my heart beats a little faster whenever I think about him. My third boy. My sweet baby. My angel. With each passing day, I know I'm a little closer to seeing him again. An overwhelming amount of love and pain take over for a few minutes several times a day. Salty tears fill the crevice between my smiling lips while my mind is flooded with all the memories of that day and suddenly I'm there all over again. I can smell him and feel his skin against mine. I love you, cherub.

And now, another boy on the way. And I have boxes full of clothes in all shades of blue. Clothes that were for Ian. Clothes that will bring sorrow and sweetness all at once, when I see this tiny new being fill them. And my boys will always know that they have a brother in heaven. They will always know that they are one of four.

I'm sure having little girls would be a blast and perhaps some day I'll be blessed with one. Right now though, these four boys have my heart. All of it. Each one holding a special place.

I'm just grateful that of all the mommas in the world, God chose me to love and protect them.

And for the record, it's been a priviledge.

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

It's a Boy!

A sweet baby boy!

Wednesday, September 12, 2012


August 27th was my boys' first day of school. Julian started first grade and Tyler started Kindergarten. I didn't go to school that day, because I really wanted to share that moment with them. Julian is usually my brave boy. Shy but confident. Boy, was I surprised when he started to cry minutes before I walked him to his class. I held him close and told him everything would be well. He stopped crying but I could still sense his anxiety. That is, until we got to his classroom and he saw his best friend from Kinder. After that, he waved goodbye and smiled like the brave, confident boy I know he is.

Next, was my Ty-Ty. I had been preparing for several weeks of tears and anxiety. I was convinced my boy would be that kid. The one who cries and screams and kicks as I walk away every day for two weeks. As a mom, I know my kids like the back of my hand. Or at least I thought I did..... I walked him to his classroom with him holding tightly onto my hand and even hiding a bit behind me. That is, until he saw legos. I had rehearsed speeches and prepared mentally for the tantrums and the fits, but in 2.2 seconds I had been replaced by a bucket of legos. The security he got from my sweaty hand had been replaced by colorful little building blocks....who knew? I waved goodbye and told him I love him, but he was too busy making colorful towers. I did manage to get his attention long enough to take a picture.

I left with a happy heart knowing that my boys were ready to be on their own. It wasn't long before it hit me though. I sat in the car and cried for several minutes, after I realized that these were the very same milestones I'd never share with Ian. The moments a momma lives for, the ones we engrave in our hearts forever, would be the same ones I'd never have with my little boy. I sobbed in the parking lot and told myself how unfair it was. After a few minutes, I was able to pull myself together and go about my day. I never would have imagined the day would end with my in the E.R. with a broken foot after tripping and hitting the floor pretty hard. I'm ok. It's been two weeks and my foot has finally stopped throbbing. Perhaps they can try to cast it again after today, since they had to cut the cast off the first time due to severe swelling. Don't worry. Baby is fine. My arms took most of the fall, plus I'm well padded. Fluffy. Cushion-y. You know? happy

I have a doctor's appointment with my OB in a few hours. I have to leave extra early since crutching your way around a three story building isn't exactly easy when you are pregnant and broken. I'll figure it out though. I've been through worse....

Anyway, I want to thank everyone who has been touched by my the birth of my little angel. You have no idea what it means to me to have so many people share my pain and acknowledge his brief life. I am grateful and so proud to be able to share him with so many. I want everyone to know he was here and that he is part of our family. My heart goes out to those who shared their own experiences of loss and sadness. Please know you are not alone.

I hope you're all having a nice hump day. heart

Monday, September 10, 2012

New Life

I am nearly twenty weeks pregnant.

I'm not sure I am ready to announce it to the world, but you can only hide a pregnancy for so long. The few people who know have been incredibly supportive. However, every woman who's ever been pregnant can tell you that it is nearly impossible to avoid those well-meaning rude remarks about the new life growing inside of you. I've already had a few "I hope it's a girl this time" if, after what I've been through, I really care about the gender more than the safety and well-being of the tiny human baking in my womb. The truth is my life would have been more than perfect with a house full of boys.
And, of course, I could not get half-way through this pregnancy without the "you're having a new baby now, it's time to move on", because it's common knowledge that one baby replaces another, right? ....I might as well make it clear now, NOTHING and NOBODY will EVER fill this empty space in my heart. I still cry for him every day and my heart aches like it did the day I lost him. If anything, I'd say time has made the pain worse, because every day something reminds me that I should be holding a baby boy and my heart breaks a little more.
But, by far, the most unfortunate choice of words were "make sure you take care of this one" by a girl at my doctor's office. That one stung. She made me feel like I had somehow caused Ian's death.

I don't hold these things against anyone. I have learned a lot over the past few months, like that reading between the lines is a waste of time and that it's possible for someone to care about you and still say something unmeaningly hurtful while you're wounded and vulnerable. The biggest lesson though, has been the power of love. Like when emotion takes over and you don't know what to say, it's ok to not say anything. A simple heartfelt I'm Sorry along with a hug full of love and empathy is all you need. No need for cliche quotes or comparing the situation to a possible worst scenario.

I'd be lying if I said I am not a nervous wreck. And I'd really be lying if I said I'm not still grieving. And while the sadness and the anxiety manage to take over sometimes, most of the time I can be happy and thankful that there is a brand new human being growing inside me. I know our angel in heaven is watching over us every step of the way.