First Day of School

The past few weeks have been incredibly busy. I don't know how I managed to get myself involved in so many things at once, but I'm finally seeing an end to the chaos... well, a lull anyway.

The kids started school last Thursday. (I'm sad because a lot of the pictures I took turned out blurry. I guess my hands were shaking a bit. I'm going to try and "recreate" the moments for some better pics though. lol)

The day turned out to be very bittersweet.

It was fun to see the kids so excited and anxious to meet their new teachers and see friends they'd missed over the summer. I walked them to school and dropped each of them off at their new classrooms. Maegan was especially excited to be starting 1st grade this year.

By the time I'd gotten them each settled in their classes, I'd heard the same comment (or a variation on the same) so many times I'd lost count. I was starting to think if I heard it one more time, I might just lose it right in the face of the person who said it.

"Wow, your kids are all in school now. Your a free woman!"

"What are you going to do with yourself now that they're all in school all day?"

"Isn't your youngest in first grade now? Lucky you!"

In my mind I was screaming...

"HELLO!?!? Don't you realize what you are saying!? I'm not lucky! I'm not free! I'm not supposed to be home alone all day. I'm supposed to be walking home from school with my 6 week old daughter snuggled in her sling. I'm supposed to be spending my days catching naps when she does, planning my errands around her feedings, listening to her coos and delighting in her first smiles."

Instead, I just nodded, smiled, choked back the tears, and walked home ... alone.

One of the most frustrating things about grief, I'm learning, is that it's practically impossible to grieve on my own terms. Just when I think I'm doing well, something gets thrown at me just like this. I might be having a perfectly good day, when suddenly something comes along and just rips at my heart.

Sometimes I feel like I'm at the mercy of my surroundings.

Things happen that are out of my control that send me spinning and wondering how I could possibly have let myself be happy for a time.

Society places a time limit on my grief, which for some reason correlates directly with how long I was pregnant. (As in, "you had an early miscarriage so you should only need to grieve for a week or two." Or "you had a mid-second trimester loss, so you get two months to grieve, no more." Or "you lost your baby at term, so you get 4 months and then you should be over it." You get the idea. Ridiculous!!)

Good people say dumb things, like "lucky you, all your kids are in school now."

Family and friends have expectations as to how I should be doing. They wonder when I will be back to "normal". They don't realize that this is normal now. I'm living a new normal, and I'm still trying to figure it out myself.

Makelle's 6 month angel birthday is coming up next week. I want to do something special for her, but I can't seem to come up with anything. I'd love any suggestions you'd like to share.

I am hoping to get a start on Makelle's story very soon. Thanks for sticking with me!

Confessions

Sorry I haven't had much time to post lately. We've been trying to cram as much fun as we can into the last few weeks of summer. We're having so much fun! I'm going to be sad to see it end. School starts in 7 days and my 4 kiddos are all going to be in school all day this year. I'm sure going to miss them.

Anyway, how about a little fun with some confessions!?

* Let's see... I have a horrible phone phobia. (I just looked it up. It's called Telephonophobia.) I'd rather do just about anything than pick up the phone and call someone I don't know. Making doctors appointments, ordering a pizza, calling the school to let them know I have a sick kid at home... it all sends me into a near panic attack! Seems silly, I know. I guess I'm afraid I'll forget what I'm trying to say, or that it won't come out the way I wanted it to. I prefer email or text messaging any day over talking on the phone. Even those lovely automated phone systems that most people despise. I love 'em!! An automated phone system doesn't laugh like a live person does when I have an anxiety attack and trip over my own tongue.

* We have never taken a family vacation. Sad, huh? I've tried a few times over the last few years to plan some sort of trip, but I always end up completely overwhelmed. I think I worry too much about making sure I'm getting the best deal for my money too. I am so frugal and cheap, it would kill me to know I could have done something cheaper, or planned something differently to save more money. Typing that out makes me realize those are pretty lame excuses. Does anyone out there want to offer to be my personal travel agent? I promise to bring you back a souvenir! lol

* I sleep with Makelle's blanket every night. The night she was born, my nurse gave me a tiny, white, crocheted blanket. I held on to that blanket all night long while I was in labor. The minute my angel was in my arms, I wrapped her up in it. When I fall asleep each night, I hold her blanket close to me and tell her in my mind how much I love her and miss her. I don't know who made that tiny little blanket. I wish I did know. I would love to thank them for giving me something soft to hold on to for now... until my Makelle is in my arms again.

* Lastly, I didn't teach Maegan to ride her two-wheeler this summer like I'd set out to. Instead, she taught herself!!

After countless hours chasing her back and forth across the back patio, holding on to her seat and hoping she would finally find her balance, she wound up doing it all on her own. Silly kid!

Last night, after we'd zig-zagged the patio a dozen times or so, I decided to take a break. Maegan was trying to push herself along on her bike with her feet, but she couldn't quite reach the ground well enough to get some good momentum. So I lowered her seat for her and figured I'd let her have a go at "coasting" around on her own. She'd push off with her feet a few times until she picked up enough speed and pretty quickly I could see she was finding her balance! Within about 20 minutes she said, "I'm going to try with the pedals now, Mom." And so she did! She's so tickled with herself, she spent the entire afternoon today riding around the patio.

I can't even tell you how happy I am to see her take off on her bike like that. Many of you already know Maegan's story. But for those who don't, Maegan was a 25 week preemie (I'll tell the long version another day). She had physical therapy from the time she was a baby until she was 3 years old, just to teach her to roll over, to crawl, to walk, run, jump, and climb stairs. She learned quickly, but she has always had a bit of a gross motor delay. So you can see how riding a two-wheeler is a huge accomplishment for her! (She's also taught herself to jump-rope this summer. I'll have to share a video of her doing it another day.)

So I'll leave you with a short video clip of my "Miracle Maegan". Enjoy!

Perfect Baby Jokes

"Perfect baby jokes" began with "dead baby jokes".

Bet that got your attention! It sure got mine the first time I read it. Now before you shake your head in disgust and click away, let me explain.

Not long after Makelle died, I started to delve into the online world of stillbirth and infant loss. I read articles, web pages, blogs, message boards... anything I could get my hands on that would help fill my need to understand this journey called grief. Although I doubt that anyone can ever fully understand grief, a lot of what I read brought me a sense of comfort. It helped me to know that I wasn’t alone, that there are others out there who have felt what I was feeling and survived. It helped me to recognize the countless emotions swirling around inside me, each in competition with the other to be the most prominent at that moment, and to know that those feelings were very normal. I also learned that it was better for me to allow those emotions to flow freely, rather than to bottle them up.

Some of what I came across shocked me though. One perfect example… dead baby jokes.

Yikes, right!?

The first time I read the term “dead baby jokes” I thought I had certainly read it wrong. But no, there it was again on another website, and in another blog. At first, I just couldn’t stomach the phrase. How could there be anything funny about a baby dying!? How could anyone find humor enough to coin such a phrase as “dead baby jokes”? I just couldn’t comprehend the idea and was more and more appalled by it each time I came across the term.

I still don't like the phrase. But as time passes, I have come to understand the concept of the phrase. A friend of mine helped me to see the meaning behind the words with some good advice. Her son passed away from cancer nearly 7 1/2 years ago, just one month short of his 13th birthday. She has been such an inspiration and a support to me.

One day we were taking about how losing your child changes you and how you learn to cope with life afterward. She told me a story of a time when she was taking a plane trip with her 6 living children and the flight attendant asked her how many kids she had. Ah, the dreaded question... But my friend was quick-thinking and answered, "I have 6 with me and I left one at home. He doesn't travel well."

This, she told me, was a "dead kid joke".

And then she gave me this advice... "either you laugh or you cry".

Now that might not seem very profound to you, but it really struck me. I had a choice to make. I could let this tragedy tear me apart, or I could muster my courage and let it change me for the better. I knew I had to find the laughter again. I knew I couldn't let this experience destroy me. But how does anyone laugh again when their heart is shattered? And how could we possibly laugh about our daughter dying!?

And then one Sunday, it happened.

Church was just ending and a friend of mine was introducing me to her mother as my children were practically running circles around us. (What is it about a 3-hour block of church that suddenly every ounce of energy my children have erupts from them the minute it is over? lol) My friend's mother commented, "You sure have your hands full". And I caught myself thinking in my mind, "yes, but thank goodness the littlest (thinking of Makelle) is so calm and reverent at church." And then I chuckled to myself.

I did it! I didn't say it out loud, but it did make me smile, and even laugh a little, just to think it.

I finally understood the concept of a "dead baby joke". I wasn't laughing because Makelle died. I was laughing because I knew she would want me to, and because I suddenly realized how finding even a little bit of humor in something so horrible can be very healing.

And that was the beginning of what KC and I like to call "perfect baby jokes". We decided the phrase "dead baby jokes' was entirely too morbid, and since most of our "jokes" revolve around how "perfect" Makelle is, we created our own name for them.

I have yet to share a "perfect baby joke" with anyone besides KC. (We don't even say them in front of our children.) But we have often laughed at our own creativity and enjoy sharing them with each other. We joke about how quiet Makelle is, or how she always listens and never talks back. We joke about how easy-going and even-tempered she is. We laugh about how little she eats and how she never leaves messes behind.

We look for the small moments when we can think about our daughter, laugh a little, and share a little bit of happiness with each other. And we can smile knowing she would be chuckling along with us.

Don't get me wrong. I still cry. I still hurt. But I can laugh again too. And that feels good.

Maybe someday I'll share a "perfect baby joke" with you.

To My Angel

Dear Sweet Makelle,

I don't know how I could ever put into words what you mean to me, or how you have changed me, but somehow I feel like I need to try.

It's been five months today, sweet baby girl. Five months ago today we held you in our arms. Five months ago we kissed your cheeks, caressed your tiny nose, marveled at your long feet and knobby knees, and breathed in the soft, sweet smell of your skin. Five months ago today we said hello... and then we said good-bye.

We had so many plans for you, Makelle. We knew you would sleep in mom and dad's room for a few months, with your crib attached side-car to our bed. Eventually, you would share a room with your big sister Maegan. (She didn't know that we were planning this. Just the other night she informed me that she doesn't like having a room by herself and she wishes she could share it with someone.) Your brothers and sisters picked out which of their toys they would give you. They talked about all the fun things they would teach you and how they would help take care of you. They were head over heels for you before they even knew who you were. I even thought so far ahead that I knew Maegan would be in the 6th grade when you were in Kindergarten and I was so excited that she would be able to walk you home from school every day, just like McKenzi did for her. We were so unbelievably happy making plans for you, baby girl. We talked about everything from whether you were a boy or a girl (Mommy was right!), to rearranging booster seats to fit 5 kids in the van, to what we might name you, to whether you would have red hair or brown, and even whether or not you would have any food allergies like your brother and sister. We planned for it all... all but the one thing we never thought would happen.

Now, we know that Heavenly Father had a plan for you too, Makelle. And that making you a part of our family was a very important piece of that plan. From the moment we found out you were coming, we knew you were someone special and that you had something important to teach us. How little did we really know.

You brought us so much joy, sweetie. While you were with us, our days were filled with happy anticipation. The kids awed at how you were growing, and how my tummy was getting bigger and bigger before their eyes. We laughed at you and how you always kicked harder at your brothers' basketball games... almost like you were cheering them on! We marveled at the chance to see you on the ultrasound screen. Your daddy was thrilled when he finally got to feel you kick and wiggle inside my tummy. And every day we loved you more and more.

We had so much fun together while you were here with us. Do you know all the places you were able to go while you were in my tummy? You went to the zoo, to church, to the school science fair, trick-or-treating with your brothers and sisters, to the temple, to your uncle's wedding, to Grandma's house, dancing with mom and dad, to a Utah Jazz basketball game, to McKenzi's piano recital, and so many, many more places! Even though our time with you here was short, I am so grateful for the many wonderful memories we were able to create with you.

I realized as I'm typing this that tomorrow you will have been gone from us for exactly as long as you were with us. Oh how I miss you Makelle! My arms ache to hold you again. I haven't let myself cry for several weeks now, but tonight the tears are coming in buckets.

Makelle, did you know before you came how much you would change us?

Did you know how you would open our eyes to what is truly important?

You taught us to cherish the small moments. To love each other every minute and to not take anything for granted. You helped us to see the big picture. To remember why we are really here and what our eternal potential is. You have given us a hope and a determination that we were missing before we met you. A hope for a glorious reunion and an eternity spent together as a family, and a determination to do everything we can to ensure that we make it there. We knew you would teach us, sweet little one. But you did so much more. Thank you my dear, precious daughter.

I am honored to have been chosen to be your mommy. I promise you that I will never stop working to better myself so that I can be worthy of the promised blessing of having you in my arms again someday. You have changed me, sweetie and I am forever grateful.

I will always miss you, Makelle. Not a day goes by that you aren't thought of, spoken of, loved and prayed for. You are a part of us, now and forever.

"Wherefore, whoso believeth in God

might with surety hope for a better world,

yea, even a place at the right hand of God,

which hope cometh of faith,

maketh an anchor to the souls of men..."

Ether 12:4

With hope,

Mommy

Not Much

I've been trying to figure out for a few days now what to post about. I guess you could say I'm having writer's block. I have had several ideas rolling around in my brain. I just haven't had the time to sit down and work out my thoughts at the computer. I have been in a bit of a funk the last few days, too. Not a deep valley so much. More like just a small dip in the road. I'm working my way out of it though.

Truthfully, I would love to sit down and type Makelle's story. It needs to be told. But I know it will be quite long and will likely take me all day (at least!) to get it written. So it may have to be put on hold until the kids go back to school.

I can't believe they start back in just 3 weeks! Part of me is going to miss having them around. It will be sad to send them off. All 4 of them will be in school all day this year. It's going to be very quiet around here!

I promise to try and come up with something else to post soon. Thanks for sticking with me!

Urgent Prayer Request!!

**UPDATE 7/25 **

Thank you all for your prayers. I'm sorry I wasn't able to update sooner. Things took a lot longer than any of us expected and Megan's sweet baby boy was finally born this morning. I did drive up to spend the night with Megan at the hospital Wed. night. I would have given anything to have stayed with her until it was over, but I had to come home Thursday afternoon because my kids were marching in a parade in town. When I left yesterday, Megan's husband was with her and her sister was able to be with her through the night last night.

I know she appreciates all your thoughts and prayers right now. Her heart is broken and after all she has been through she needs more than ever to know that she is loved. For now, there are no answers as to why this keeps happening. Please pray that if they decide to go ahead with testing, the answers they seek will be found easily and that they can find comfort and peace as they move forward.


I don't have a lot of time right now, but a dear friend of mine desperately needs your prayers tonight.

My heart is breaking. I can hardly type through my tears.

Megan is one of the greatest blessings that has come from the tragedy of losing Makelle. We met through a website we both visit. She contacted me to offer her support after Makelle died. We live about an hour apart from each other, but we've been lucky to have met several times for a girl's night out. She has been an incredible source of strength to me over the last 4 months. I honestly don't know how I would have survived without her. I thank my Heavenly Father every day for sending her to me.

Sadly, Megan has had more than her share of loss. She does have 3 beautiful living children, but through the years she has lost 4 babies to miscarriage and last November she lost a precious baby boy who was stillborn. Today she found out that the sweet baby she is carrying has no heartbeat. She is about 17 weeks along and was so full of hope for this little life.

Please, if you could, lift her and her family up in your prayers. I know she needs to feel the love of the Lord more than ever right now. Please... pray for her.

I'm hoping to leave very shortly to be with her. I'll update as soon as I can.