Her First Real Birthday - Four Years Later

Once again, I find myself not having blogged in a year.  But I'm alright with it.  This has been a good year and one full of lots of life.  So for that, I am thankful.  Because it was Solveig's birthday yesterday and the thoughts are floating around in my mind I decided it was time to write tonight.

It was her first real birthday, on the 29th of February.  But it was really her fourth birthday in Heaven.  Many people have asked us how it felt to celebrate her birthday, and specifically how it felt to celebrate her birthday on the actual day of the 29th.  I guess it didn't feel all that different.  But it was quite special all the same.  The thing that felt the most odd was not really celebrating on the 28th.  That is the day we typically have celebrated over the past three years.

For her day we have usually gone to the local museum for kids, but since the 29th was a Monday we were out of luck there.  So this year we did something different and went to the bigger of our two zoos.  We wore our special shirts that I made for a special walk run that we do every year in honor of babies who have died and gone before us.  It was fun to be doing something that all three kids could enjoy so much.  Our little Squeaker is at such a fun age for things like this and he was really thrilled to see the animals.  At first he was so scared of the animals, but then he got used to the idea of looking at them and he didn't want to leave by the end.  One of my favorite things to see were two of the beautiful leopards that were snuggling and resting in the sun on what was a very cold day.  And nobody else was around since this exhibit was outside.  Leave it to us to be the brave ones in the cold.  It was really fun to get up so close to the leopards and to lock eyes with them.  They are stunning.  We also loved seeing the penguins!  All three kids climbed up on top of the rock structure next to the penguin tank.  And we got to watch the monk seal show.  That was fun.  When we were in Hawaii with Bug almost 9 years ago, we had the opportunity to see some monk seals who were up on the beach.  They were protected by some local volunteers.  It was awesome.  We had our homemade lunch at the zoo as well before it was time to head home.

After the zoo, it was normal life for awhile.  That meant a screaming two year old who was ready for his nap, and two big kids who had fun watching one of their favorite things - all about wars and stars.  And during nap time, I went out to the dollar store to get party supplies for our little family dinner at home.  I got some balloons for us to release at the cemetery, and decided that we should also get some to keep at home.  Knowing how the young one would potentially react when he had to release his balloon, I figured it might be nice to have a backup waiting at home.  All the balloons were pink for the release time.  And the ones for home were pink, purple and white.  Honestly, I was so relieved that nobody at either of those stores asked me what I was celebrating.  That has happened before, and it's a little hard to explain.  (Of course I would have been fine explaining it if I had been questioned.  But it was just nice to not have to talk about it with random strangers just this once.)  This is one day when I kind of like to be incognito and wish to not run into anyone that I know.  Sometimes it happens, and that's fine.  But I prefer to be sort of quiet and with my family on this day.  I also stopped to get some lovely pink roses at another store.

While I was gone, my dear guy made some gluten free cupcakes as I am now gluten free.  After our little dude woke from his nap, we ventured out to the cemetery.  We explained to our little one that we would be going to his sister Solveig's grave, that her body was in the ground but her spirit was in Heaven with Jesus.  It's a tough concept for anyone, but maybe especially for a young mind.  (We've been there with him before, but it has been awhile and I wanted to make sure to explain it again.)  We told him that we would be releasing some balloons for her birthday and that we couldn't keep those ones.  And we told him we would put pretty roses at her grave.  When we got there, I told him that he could touch her hand and footprints.  I have been looking forward to him being old enough to do this by himself.  This was the first time that he was able to do so.  It was so sweet.

When it was time to release our balloons, they were so tightly tied together.  Maybe that is symbolic of our family...tightly woven.  We had to cut the strings short.  Each of us took one and let it go to the sky.  The balloons all freely went up this time!  In past years, they have blown to the side or gotten stuck in the tree.  And because it was cloudy and not very windy, we were able to watch them soar SO high.  It was magnificent, and we all took it in for quite some time.  Little Squeaker probably soaked it up for the longest time and he didn't want to leave.  Of course I know that the balloons cannot fly to Heaven, but I like to imagine that they were on their way to Solveig, and that maybe she got to catch them when they got there.

Daddy went out to get us some take out cuisine and I attempted to make some homemade GF cream cheese wontons.  They were yummy, so I thought.  But nobody else cared for them.  It was so nice though to eat a meal together on a table all decorated for our sweet girl.  Pale pink and roses...those remind me of her.  And that's what I used to create our table.

After dinner we decorated cupcakes with homemade pink frosting and fun candies from the dollar store.  That was a fun way to honor our baby.  And we sang happy birthday to her.

It was simple.  And it was sweet.  That's how we like it.

Thanks for all of the love and prayers.  Thank you to the people who remembered about Solveig's birthday and reached out to us.  It means more than you know that you choose to do that.  One of the things I struggle with is worrying that people will forget about her.  I think just about any parent who has lost a child will tell you the same thing.  So knowing that she is not forgotten by others means so much to us.

We know God is with us.  He has been good to us and has brought redemption from the dark places.  He has strengthened us and given us hope in Him.  We choose to hope in Him...even on the hard days.  And yes, there are still hard days...four years later.  I will say that they seem to be fewer and further between.  But sometimes those hard moments or hard days will still catch me by surprise.

Celebrating Solveig's life is a good choice for our family.  I'm so glad that we are able to do that together.  I'm grateful that we have chosen to remember her and to honor her life.

Happy birthday Solveig Sofia, my beautiful girl!  I can't wait to see you dancing in Heaven one day!  And I can't wait to hold you in my arms again.  I love you so much!

Solveig's Birthday - 3 Years Later…Part One

I have been struggling with how to write this post and have been contemplating it for weeks now.  So I decided it was time to just sit down and start typing.  It has been almost a year since I last blogged.  I have been so busy living life…and that is a beautiful thing.  I just didn't feel the need to blog.  But now I guess I do.

A few days ago we celebrated Solveig Sofia's 3rd birthday.  While she is in Heaven, we still like to celebrate, remember, and honor her here on Earth.  But let me back up.

Beginning in January, my heart gets a sinking feeling.  It is that time of year, I remind myself.  The time of year when I was carrying my little girl and was being seen in the clinic all the time.  It is often bleak in our midwinter here in MN.  After Christmas and New Years Eve have passed and the days are cold and long, I find myself often struggling to be filled with joy.  I think some of that has to do with seasonal sadness, but I think it also has to do with Solveig's impending birthday.  This year I think I may have done a little better than the last two prior to it.  I just feel like I am in a better place emotionally, overall.  But a few weeks prior to her birthday, I had a really tough weekend.  I was just so sad as I realized that her day was arriving.  And it is not just the actual day of the birth that is typically challenging.  It is all of the marked days leading up to it and the days following it…

The day I had my last ultrasound when I was told that she wasn't growing and they would do another ultrasound the following Monday (that would never happen)…this was on a Monday.

The day I woke up to her having a seizure inside of me and flailing rapidly 200 times…Friday.

The day we went about our life, even though that night before I told Erik that something felt really wrong…and I didn't feel her move except for shifting a couple of times…Saturday.

The day we continued to go about our life, even though I really felt wrong about going to church…I felt sick in my spirit the entire time because I knew that she was gone…Sunday.

It was that last night, Sunday, that we went into the hospital and had the confirmation that she was gone.  That was beyond hard.  And I can remember it like it was yesterday.

But I'm so glad that we went home and then we had a chance to prepare mentally, physically, emotionally and spiritually for what was about to happen two days later.

The day we talked with dear Annette from the hospital and went out shopping for our daughter's one and only outfit for this earth and a beautiful blanket and bracelet…Monday.

The day we went to the hospital to begin our induction for delivery…and we received our special box full of items to help us through this journey…Tuesday.

The day she was born at 8:30 am, weighing 3 lbs 10.6 oz…her tiny, thin body still and her umbilical cord wrapped around her neck three times, around her abdomen and her arm with a true knot in it…Wednesday, February 29, 2012.

The day we met with our pastors and left the hospital, me carrying our daughter in my arms in the car of the funeral director and then planning her funeral…Thursday.

The day we went out to find a suit for her daddy and chose our cemetery…Friday.

The day we held her beautiful funeral service at our church and were reminded that are blessed with so many supportive friends and family who were there to support and encourage us…Saturday.

The day we lay around not knowing what to do…Sunday.

The day we last looked at her body and buried her in a tiny pink casket in cold weather in a very quick graveside service and then had a family lunch…Monday.

Every year I go through those days mentally and emotionally as her birthday happens.  This year, the actual days weren't as hard.  The birthday weekend was really busy and good, and it was also emotionally taxing at times…but so good.  I'm glad that I can now say it was good.

On the 28th, the day we celebrate her birthday when it is not a leap year, our little family went to our local children's museum, played and ate lunch there.  All three kids and us two parents had such a lovely time doing something joyful…something Solveig would have surely liked if she were with us.  It was fun to see our little guy really enjoy the museum this time.  Then we headed home for little Squeaker to take his nap.  After nap, we had dinner at a really fun burger place and then went to the cemetery with our pale pink roses to lay beside her grave and our pink heart balloons to be released.  My sweet friend Natalie had yet again placed a beautiful rose and a note by her stone.  That is so meaningful…someone remembered…a sweet friend remembered my little girl.  Thank you dear Natalie.

Interestingly enough, when we went to release the pink balloons, only one of our six balloons flew away…

the other balloons got stuck in the tree.

Wow.

It was so symbolic.  It was a reminder that our little girl flew to Heaven and we are here yet on Earth.  We are stuck in that tree.  We are not meant to be with her yet.  God has more for us to do here.  It was good for my mama's heart that often just yearns to be with her and our other family and loved ones in Heaven.

We are supposed to be here right now.

Lord, show us what it is that you wish for us to do and how you wish for us to live our lives.  Help us to live well and love well.

There is more to say…it will come soon…

Thank you for your continued support, love and prayers for our family.  It means so much.

Buzzy's Heaven Thoughts

Buzz and I were just reading a sweet book about an owl who flies to a little boy and becomes his pet.  Later, after helping the owl recover and regain strength from an injury, the little boy releases the owl back into the wilderness.  I was asking my Buzz if he liked the story.  Here's what he said.

"It reminds me of Solveig."

I said, "why is that, Honey?  Because of the owl flying away?"

"Yes," he said.  "Solveig's spirit flew right to Heaven.  We got to hold her when she was dead.  But her spirit flew to Heaven.  I'll get to see her again someday when I go there.  But our hearts are connected.  They'll always be connected.  She was the most beautiful little baby girl."

I didn't make that up.  I loved that he said that their hearts are connected, and that he thought she was beautiful.  And while he was saying all of these precious thoughts of his, of course the tears came into my eyes.

The reminders of Heaven and wanting to be there are truly encouraging to me.  I really have been missing Solveig a lot lately.  I think it has a lot to do with Spring finally being here…the season that she would have been born in.  So, hearing my son talk about his little sister is really sweet.

There is a movie out right now that we really want to see, all about Heaven and how it is real…based on the book of the same kind of name.  We can't wait to see it.  You see, we read that book just a few months before we lost our Solveig.  It was so comforting at the time, thinking about our babies that we had miscarried and other loved ones.  And then when we lost Solveig, it just became that much more real.

We even have the children's version of this special book and our kids really clung to that after we lost Solveig.  It was Bug's favorite book for awhile.  She wanted to bring it to school to share as her favorite book for her birthday.  But because of wondering if she might get in trouble sharing it during regular school time and not on recess, I decided that she shouldn't bring it.  This was such a bummer and really hard for a six year old to understand…the separation of church and state…issues that are challenging from time to time in the public school setting.

But I digress.  If you haven't read that book that I'm referring to, I highly encourage you to do so.  There's no way that this kid could've made all of that up.  It really is a beautiful picture of Heaven.

I long to be there.  It is my hope.  It is how I keep going.

One day, sweet Solveig…one day…we will be reunited, and I will hold you, FULLY ALIVE!!!!!  Until then, dance and play and sing and run, and I will think of you and hold your daddy and siblings here on earth.

Her Due Date - 2 Years Later

Today marks the anniversary of Solveig's due date, two years after the loss of her.  I don't know why this day seems so significant still, but it does.  None of my kids ever made it to their due date for their actual birthdays.  They were all born earlier.  So the fact that I even remember her due date and that it stands out to me in this way is kind of interesting.  But of course I remember it, because she came and went in such a startling way that it will always be remembered.  She will always be remembered.  All days surrounding her life and what could have been will always be remembered…just because.

I remember being so excited for a spring baby when I was expecting Solveig.  All of our babies have happened in the spring, except for Buzz who was technically a Summer birthday by one day - June 22nd.  But my pregnancies were all through the same seasons.  There was that hope and expectation of new life in the Spring.  Such a beautiful thing it is to have that kind of hope during a pregnancy.

So when we lost her at the end of the winter and buried her on a cold day, it did not equate to the warmth and new life of spring that we had expected.  But it was that way.  And even in the cold and bitterness of winter and loss, we still felt warmth…warmth of God's love for us, warmth of family and friends who came around with hugs, prayers and meals, warmth of one another's embrace here in our home.  And when the cold wore off and the spring set in that year, I remember sitting outside with my big kids, wishing that I was holding our little girl in my arms and feeling the empty void of her absence.

Now that she would have been two, I sometimes picture her running about with her big brother and sister and her little brother too.  Wouldn't it have been something for them to all be together here?  Life would have been even more chaotic than it already is…and there are many moments that I would give just about anything to have it that way.  I would love to have her here with us.  We would all love that.  Her daddy and I talk about it often. I wonder what she is doing in Heaven today.  I wonder if she is waiting for the tulips to spring up from the ground, or perhaps she already has flowers around her all the time.  Maybe there are no seasons in Heaven.  Maybe it's all just moderately temperate all the time.  And I like to think that there are no mosquitos causing her to swell up with bites and no ticks to imbed themselves…because there is no disease in Heaven.  Maybe she is twirling around in a little sundress, singing songs of joy, with pigtails in her hair and a big smile on her round face with rosy cheeks.  And her big brown eyes (I'm sure they have to be brown) are open wide and filled with laughter.

To hold her again will be one of the greatest gifts that Heaven will bring.  I can hardly wait.

I thought she was due to be here on Earth…but her real due date was for Heaven.

When am I due for Heaven?  I wait, with great expectation and hope…knowing that this short blip of life here on Earth will last but for a moment.

For now, Uncle Joel, Aunt Ethel, Grandmas and Grandpas, other aunties and uncles, cousins, siblings and friends are with her…she is not bored!  She is not sad!  She is rejoicing.  They are rejoicing together.

1 Corinthians 15:55-57 says:

“O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?”

 The sting of death is sin, and the strength of sin is the law.

But thanks be to God, who giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ!"

Amen to that.  Those verses were part of my brother Joel's favorites that were read at his funeral.  

For those of us left here on earth, we have to cling to the hope that is found in Christ.  There is nothing else.  Believe me.  I have been through enough different things and have tried to do things without Him…and I have failed miserably in those attempts.  He is the only way.  He is our only hope.

I pray that those of you reading this will find hope in Him today.  Christ the Lord has risen.  He is real.  He is how I make it through each day.  

O how He loves us…

Solveig's Birthday - 2 years

This is long…just so you know.

Numb.  I am numb right now as I begin typing this post.  And yet I feel the need to write, so here I go.

For many days and weeks leading up to Solveig's birthday, I had a lot of great moments.  I was really feeling good about things and only periodically did I have a meltdown.  But yesterday and today I had some really difficult moments.

Yesterday was February 28th.  We have decided that we will choose to celebrate Solveig's birthday on the 28th, since her birthday landed so interestingly on the 29th.  There are a lot of times that it bothers me that we don't get to have her birthday on the actual date.  But it's okay.  Really, that shouldn't matter so much.  I think that maybe one reason why I wish we could have the 29th of February every year is that for me it would just validate Solveig's life all the more, in my mind.  But she was valid.  Indeed.  She did exist.  And I believe that she still exists in Heaven.  Her spirit is there.  So whether or not her birthdate on earth is available to us on paper each year, we can still honor her life.

For Solveig's birthday, we ended up doing pretty much a repeat of last year's festivities.  We allowed our kids to skip school because this is important to us.  And we took them to the local kids museum where they had a wonderful time playing and imagining all sorts of adventures.  Mr. Squeaker finally fell asleep in his stroller and took a brief nap, which allowed him to be somewhat human for the rest of our time at the museum.  I think he didn't want to miss out on all the fun though.  It was nice to have him along with us this year, outside of my womb, alive and well.  Just another healing mark on the journey.

Spending quality fun time with our Bug and Buzz was so important to me and to Erik.  It felt so healthy to be laughing and enjoying them.  We played together, and I felt so free.  At home it's so easy to get into our routines…go, go, go all day long…and I truly feel like we don't take enough time to just stop and play with our kids.  So it felt like such a gift to have that time at the museum with them.

One interesting thing that happened while we were at the museum was that our kids were playing in this mock river dam setup.  There were about 5 plastic water creature toys to about 20 grappling children.  Perhaps some of the regular toys that live in that river had been stashed in a nearby hole or something, but it was kind of interesting to see the kids trying to negotiate who would get what toy or if they'd get one at all.  My sweet boy was playing with a little red lobster toy when all of the sudden, a younger, bossier little blonde girl from a preschool group came rushing up and grabbed the lobster hastily out of Buzzy's hands.  He just stood there in shock and awe and didn't know what to do or how to respond.  I so wanted to grab it back for him, but of course that wouldn't be helpful now, would it?  After watching that child not only take the toy but also claim one of the other five available toys per 20 kid capita, I politely said to her, "would you mind please sharing one of those toys since you have two?"  She just stared at me and made some little annoyed sound and rushed off to something else.  I think she was about four.  Anyway, Buzz was so sad.  I told him that he handled the situation politely by not grabbing it back from her.  But that he could also choose to say something along the lines of, "it isn't polite to steal a toy from someone.  Next time you could ask, 'please may I have that toy?'  Poor kid…guess we need to work on healthy confrontational skills some more…but his peacemaker ways are very sweet too. I did end up writing a comment on the comment cards asking if they could perhaps add a few more toys to the river dam…

Alas…I digress.

After thoroughly enjoying the museum and capping off our visit with some face painting where Buzz decided to paint his face entirely green to look like an alien and Bug decided to paint hers like a tropical bird, we headed off to a nearby restaurant for some delicious eats.  It was then home to nap the little Squeaker and exhausted parents, and then rev up for another part of the day.

Daddy went out and bought some light pink balloons and some light pink roses.  We went to our cemetery after nap time.  And in very cold weather, perhaps 5 degrees Fahrenheit, we climbed over the deep snow to Solveig's grave with Baby wrapped up in his warm bundle and blankets over his head and around his body.  When Daddy had the camera tripod all set for a few pics, we quickly unveiled our Squeaker's blanket shrouded head and took several pictures of us standing by the stone as a family. Then it was time for laying the roses by her stone and also releasing the balloons.  This year, the balloons were able to gracefully fly into the sky.  But just like last year, one balloon somehow got a little bit stuck and did its own thing!  That to me was so symbolic of Solveig, going on her way to Heaven separate from us.  It made us giggle a little bit.

Buzz said, "I hope the balloons make it all the way to Heaven!"

I cried and said, "Me too Buddy!  Me too."

We finished our little ceremonial time and headed back home to make dinner out of leftovers.  Wow, my creative juices were shot I guess.  I had great intentions of making a special dinner, but that wasn't meant to be.  However, I did make up some homemade vanilla cupcakes the night before and had them frozen so they would be easy to frost.  The kids helped me to make some light pink frosting.  And I sat and decorated cupcakes with them.  Buzz wanted just gobs of frosting and no sprinkles on his.  And Bug spent a lot of time adding TONS of sprinkles on hers!  Again, it felt so good to just do something fun with them.  The kids sang several different renditions of Happy Birthday.

Today, March 1st, we had a birthday breakfast of homemade crepes with fruit, whipped cream and maple syrup.  It was my first time making crepes, so lets just say that there were a LOT of flopped pancakes.  But they still tasted delicious.  After kind of a slow day, I ended up going out for some big box store therapy grocery shopping.  It felt good to get out of the house.  And then after supper tonight we had a chance to do some more reminiscing with our kids.

We got out our pale pink scrapbook with Solveig's photos and big purple storage bin that has Solveig's things in it…her white blanket and pink bear that I basically lived with until after Squeaker was born over a year later, the hundreds of sympathy cards that loving people sent to us (I read about half of them again tonight and wept…thank you, friends), the candles that were used at her funeral that I cannot bear to part with or use yet, the outfits that friends and family gave to us in preparation for our daughter that I still cannot get rid of and I think I may always keep, the mini strawberry dress that matched big sister Bug's strawberry dress…purchased just a week before Solveig died inside of me, the box that was given to us at the hospital in loving memory of a little boy named Colton, (the inspiration for me taking on the box project that his parents used to be a part of), her footprints and handprints…so delicate and tiny, her dark brown hair clippings inside the Tress Press…the same dark hair as her sister Bug and brother Squeaker…it was really good but really hard to look at these things.

Part way through going over the memory items, my sweet seven year old Bug said, "Mom, I can tell that you are getting really teary.  Perhaps this has been enough for one day."  Bless her heart.

I said, "Honey, it's okay that I'm crying.  It's okay to be sad about this and to look at Solveig's things.  But thank you so much for being sensitive and for caring so much about your mama."

Then Buzz said as he was looking at the photos of Solveig, "I miss Solveig so much.  I can't wait to see her again."

I said, "I know, Honey.  We all feel the same way."

My sweet husband was soaking in all of the mementos.  He was looking at it all and holding back the tears in his eyes.  What especially caught him tonight were the photos of him holding Solveig and weeping when we were holding her and bathing her.  Those are some of my favorites…they are so tender and show his depth and love for his daughter.  As he said last year when we visited her hospital room, "It just makes me sad to think about the life that could have been."

Yes, it makes me sad too.  Sometimes it really makes me very sad.

And other days I truly don't feel sad about it like I used to.  I think it is perfectly healthy and good and normal that we dug out all of her things and went through it today…that we spent time thinking about her and talking about her as a family…that we will always remember her out loud…because I don't want our family to ever forget her.  She meant something to us and always will.  She was born.  She was still.  But she was born.

Having our sweet Solveig has changed my life forever.  I feel things more deeply now than I think I could before.  I see other people hurting in a different way than before.  I feel more aware of a lot of things that I think matter in this world.  And I wish that I could help everyone who is in pain.  The reality of course it that I can't do that because I'm just one person.  But I do care.  And I can pray.  I can pray for people…that is something that I can do.  I so long to help other people who are going through the loss of their child, and I am thankful to be able to do some of this.

Thank you for caring about me…about our family…for remembering our daughter with us.  We all miss her very much.  It isn't just me.  We all grieve differently, and that is alright.  But we are learning to process our grief alone and together.  It is still a process.  And I believe it will go on for the rest of our lives, and that is alright.  It is okay to grieve.  And it is healthy to grieve.

And in grieving fully, I believe we are able to more better move forward in our lives.  I truly feel like I am able to "do life" better now than I could two years ago, or one year ago, or even six months ago.  Each day brings new strength that only comes from God.  I could not go on without His love for me.

Blessings and peace, friends.

Thanks Heather Hanson for capturing this photo of my Solveig bear from the Missing Grace Foundation with the kids a few months after we lost her...

I cherish these family photos that we had taken that day.  Thank you Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep and Jen Kelly.

200 Times

It is a day that I will never forget…

Two years ago today, on a Friday morning much like this one, I woke up to feel my baby girl inside of me.  Only, her movements were not typical to her.  This time her body flailed 200 times over the course of 5 minutes.  Yes, it did.  I counted.  I watched the clock.  It was a steady, rapid tick type movement.  I later learned from my nurse while I was waiting for her to be born that this must have been a seizure.  Well that makes a lot of sense.  I have seen people seize.  I have been with a friend while she was having seizures.  I know that that looks like.    I know what that feels like.  So I could so easily now pinpoint what happened to my daughter inside of my womb on that morning.  It helped me to have a reason.  And to my non-medically trained brain that has been so curious about medical things and has enjoyed doing a lot of independent research, this seemed like a very good assumption.  I have held to that assumption these last two years.  For someone who loses a child, it always helps to have some type of "reason" for the loss.  Not that it helps it to feel any worse, but it just helps to bring closure knowing as many details as one can find.

And of course, the real underlying cause for what we think was a seizure was that darn umbilical cord.  It was constricted so tightly around Solveig's neck…three times…and around her abdomen, her arm, and it also had a true knot in it.  I get so mad about that cord sometimes.  I wish that I could have just reached in and released it from her body.  But of course that is not possible.  Nor was that meant to be.  I wish that she had been meant to be on this earth.  I will always wish that.  Even though I know that she flew straight to Jesus' arms and she is safe and free from pain, I will always wish that she could be here with our earthly family.

Sometimes I still kick myself for not calling my OB clinic immediately upon feeling that atypical movement series.  But I really had no idea.  And at the time, I was so busy with my two big kids that I didn't think too long about it.  All I thought was, "hmm, that was different."  And I got on with my day.  It was a busy day.  I remember taking my kids to the store with the big red bullseye and attending and participating in a piano and voice performance party with my mom.  And I remember as we got ready for bed that night, I said to Erik, "Something doesn't feel right.  I just am so worried about her and I don't think she is okay.  I really want to go into the hospital."  Because I'm such a worry wart, my sweet husband reassured me and said, "everything is going to be okay.  Just try to get some rest."  But I told him, "But I haven't felt her moving lately.  I think something is wrong."  And as I lay in bed, I prayed to the Lord, "Please God, please help her to move.  Please help her to move.  I just need to feel her to know that she is okay."  And sure enough, in just a little while I did feel her move.  But it was just a few little scratches.  Maybe she was still alive at that time, but I honestly think that it was just her body moving a little bit inside of me…shifting as I had shifted too.  But it allowed me to get some rest.

That next day, Saturday, we went about our family life.  We were getting the nursery ready, of all things.  Erik was putting up the crib.  And I remember sitting on the little futon in the nursery with our big kids, reading to them, and thinking to myself, "why is he putting that crib up?  This baby isn't going to be with us."  I knew.  I just knew.  It was the worst feeling.  We even went fridge and freezer shopping.  That ended up being a blessing in disguise, as we later ordered a new freezer for our basement just days after we delivered Solveig.  That freezer held many a meal from dear friends and family who literally provided months worth of meals.  And I recently learned that when we ordered our fridge over the phone, the people at the store who heard that we had just lost our daughter to stillbirth decided to pray for us.  Wow.  God shows up in the most amazing ways.  Thank you, friends at the store.

At dinner that Saturday, I remember feeling her move a little bit inside of me.  But again, it was more like she was just shifting.  And that is the last I recall her moving.

The next day at church, our friends in our adult Sunday school class prayed for us because I was feeling so anxious and nervous and shared with them that I thought something might be wrong.  And it was.  I couldn't believe that we were there that day.  I felt sick to my stomach and just knew that we needed to be at the hospital.  What on earth were we doing at church?  But now looking back, I think it was God who put us there…to be encouraged by friends before we headed into the eye of the storm.

Later that Sunday night, we called ahead to the hospital to tell them that we were coming in to check things out as I hadn't felt movement.  My mom came to stay with the kids and we went in.  On the way there, I remember we were saying, "hopefully everything is okay and she is just being quiet right now."  But moments after we arrived and were whisked away into one of the birthing areas, the nurses tried in vain to find the heart beat.  It was the most awful feeling in the world and I felt like my heart was pounding out of my chest.  I could hardly breathe.  My Dr. M came in and confirmed via ultrasound that she was gone.  She had tears in her eyes and she was so kind and gentle with me.  I watched in shock and horror as I saw that our baby was gone…she was lying still inside of me.  I turned away from that screen as I couldn't watch any longer and my body froze up.  The tears welled up and I sobbed, turning into my husband's warm embrace.  He held me for the longest time, trying to comfort me.  And he kept saying, "She's with Jesus now…she's with Jesus now…"  All I could say was, "No!  No!  She's gone!!!  Why?"

Oh the pain.  Today it comes back to me almost as if it just happened.  And yet there is some sense of removal, since it has now been two years.  But there are times that just creep up on me and hit me out of the blue.  Anticipating Solveig's birthday will I'm sure be harder than the actual day.  For it is all of these memories and emotions that are swelling and swirling like a tide pool that never calms itself.  The Post Traumatic Stress Disorder like issues I have faced following our loss have definitely calmed a bit, but they are still present at times.  I was never formally diagnosed with PTSD, but I read about it a lot and I definitely had every single symptom.  From what I have heard and read, it is so commonly found in people who have had this type of loss.  And that makes sense…because having one's child come out still is so shocking.  There is a lot to figure out…a lot to wrap the brain around.  And it takes so much time and healing and patience.  And it takes a lot of love from people around, who are willing to encourage and be there through the pain.

We have had a lot of help and encouragement through our loss.  We are thankful for those who have been able to "go there" with us.  There are some who are not able to go there.  And that has been very difficult, in all honesty.  But whenever that is hard, I try to remember all of the people that God has sent our way who have been such pillars of strength, hope and encouragement.

Please remember, if you are on the periphery of a friend or family member going through the loss of a child or another loved one, don't be afraid to say something about the deceased!  There is nothing that a parent of a child who is gone appreciates more than to hear that child's name spoken out loud once in awhile…or even to just say, "I'm thinking about her," or "I want you to know that I haven't forgotten her"…that means so much. If you say nothing, which some choose to do, it makes it feel like you have completely forgotten and that the person never existed.  That is perhaps one of the worst things about this.  And it is hard to not take it personally.

Trying to be grateful in the midst of trial…sometimes that is really a hard task, but it is indeed a necessary one.

So, as we remember our daughter in the coming weeks, and as we remember all of the things surrounding that loss, we have to continue to take hope in God.  He hasn't given up on us.  And He will never leave us…not for one moment.  We will have hard times.  We will have losses. People will come and go, but God will not go.  People will disappoint, but He will not let go of us through the disappointments.  He knows that we miss our daughter and that we will always think about her, for the rest of our lives.  He lets us cry to Him about it anytime.  That means a lot.

I can't wait to see her in Heaven…free from her tangled cord…dancing on the streets of gold…smiling and singing and playing…laughing with her Uncle Joel...what a beautiful thought to hold onto.

The Fabric Store Encounter

Last night I set out to the local fabric store in search of some fabric for the little gowns I intend to sew in honor of Solveig.  While I was on my fabric search, I first worked with an older sales person who looked to be a grandmother.  She was so sweet.  She asked me if I needed help finding something and I told her that I was indeed looking for some really soft, delicate fabric that would be suitable for infant burial gowns.  She seemed just a tiny bit taken aback, but not too shocked.  And she was very willing to help me in the process of searching.  She confirmed what I had already discovered.  My choices of pale pink flannel and cream colored knit were some of the softest offerings the store had.  She then directed me to the notions area so that I could gather some sweet details to add to the finished gowns.  I really want them to look pretty for these baby girls and their families.  I figure I'll start with the flannel and see how it goes before I attempt sewing the knit.

After I stared at ruffles, ribbons, lace and other things of that nature for probably thirty minutes or more, I finally decided upon a couple of options that seemed to be good for this purpose.  They have to be simple.  They have to be sweet.  They have to be delicate and not too big.  They have to be so pretty.  I just want these babies to be taken care of well.  I want their parents to be able to hold them a little bit longer…to enjoy spending moments with their babies, for the moments shortly after their little ones are born are all they will ever have.

I headed for the cut counter.  The young woman who was there helping me said with her sweet and cheery disposition, "What project are you making?"

I replied, "well, it's a really special project.  It's kind of a hard one.  I am sewing burial gowns for babies."

Silence.

Shock and dumfoundedness…

She didn't know what to say.

I don't blame her.

She has never faced something similar, I tell myself.

She's probably 19 and this feels so foreign to her.

She sweetly replied in her shocked state, "oh, wow.  That's not something I hear of very often!  No offense!"

"It's okay," I tell her.  "No problem.  It really is an honor to be making these.  It's hard but it's good."

I then went on to explain the short version of our loss and how I'm working with the hospital box project.  And that this year I decided I needed to sew something in honor of our daughter.  She just soaked it all in and said, "I hope you can have fun sewing these."

Fun isn't necessarily the word I would use to describe it.  But for sure it's an honor.  And the thought of it gets me excited, because I just want someone else to be able to have something for their precious child to wear.  It's such a hard thing to face, losing one's child.  The least I can do is help give them an outfit that can be used to make their child feel and look more "normal."  That's one thing that I think really helped us…being able to dress our daughter.

So, here I sit with my fabric, thread and notions in hand.  I hope to start my project sometime in the next week…before her birthday.  We also have a family box project day nearing and I need to prepare for that as well.

Thank you friends for your thoughts and prayers and love during these days, weeks, months and years. Thank you to the people who have been and continue to take the journey with us.  We are so blessed with your love.  And know that we are willing to pray over you and go with you on your journeys too.

Everyone has a journey.  Everyone has a story to tell.  We know that.  We are not the only ones.  If you haven't faced something too challenging yet, you will at some point or another.  It's just how life rolls.  But you can know that no matter what, God is available to you to help you get through it.  You just have to ask for His help.  He will guide you…if you just ask.  He loves you.  He will always love you. I tell my kids all the time, "Don't ever forget that God loves you more than any other person in this world ever could possibly love you."  I believe that, 100%.

May He be near you this week.

Sewing For Solveig

Last year, for Solveig's birthday we donated a set of matching blankets and preemie sized outfits to our hospital.  This gift was meant to be given to another family in need, during their time of loss.  It meant so much to us to have a special outfit and blanket for our daughter when we lost her, and we wanted to do the same for another family.  One outfit and blanket was for burying the baby, and the other was to be for the parents to keep as a remembrance.

As Solveig's birthday has been creeping up on us, I've been trying to find the perfect outfit to buy in duplicate for this same purpose.  It's hard to find burial outfits for babies in regular stores.  Most of the things that are available aren't the type of thing that can be easily put on such delicate skin.  But there are burial outfits and buntings and patterns available, and the other night I went on a search online to see what I could find.

After finding a free pattern for what I think will be just perfect, I have decided that I would in fact like to attempt sewing some of these sweet little outfits in honor of my Solveig.  My goal right now is that I hope to make two for this year.  But, if I get really inspired and the project ends up being easier than I thought, maybe I will make more.

The great thing about this pattern is that it is kind of like a bath robe for a baby.  It easily slips on and off and has a beautiful ribbon tie.  Here is a picture of an example.  The intent is for the fabric to not disturb the delicate skin of the child.  It should be really easy to put on.  And my vision about this outfit is that I want to make it as pretty as possible, with really simple and soft fabric and perhaps include some special little touches that will make it be even more elegant.  

Because of my involvement with Solveig's Boxes, I don't know that I will have time to make a whole lot of these myself.  But…this is where YOU might be able to help!  If you would be interested in helping to sew some outfits based on this pattern, please let me know.  Or if you would like to donate some fabric towards the cause, let me know.  

Click here for the website.   There are two different sizes available here.  The only thing is, I don't think that the large size is large enough to be a preemie sized outfit.  So, I am thinking about adapting the pattern to be an official preemie size.  And I'd like to do the same for a newborn size.  OR, if you're really good at such things, let me know and maybe you could help with this process of adapting the pattern!  

My dream is that we could donate a lot of these outfits and tiny buntings and diapers to our hospital as they could really use them to bless so many families.  It would be lovely to have some in all different sizes.

Will you join me in the dream? :)

New Year, New Look

My blog has needed some updating for way too long!  So, today I found an awesome FREE blog background from Shabby Blogs and put up one of our latest family photos.  Thank you sweet Heather for taking such great photos of my family.  I appreciate you and your gifts!

There is much more I want to say, and I'm working on some other posts…lots to share.  This is actually a really hard time of year for our family as we prepare to celebrate Solveig's birthday at the end of this month.  We miss her a lot.

There is also much to be thankful for.  This morning I heard a sermon on the radio from Chip Ingram about not being a victim when difficult things happen.  (Here is a link to his website where you can download the message for free.) He talked about the need to grieve and acknowledge and work through what happens, but then to not play the role of victim…the constant "why me," or "why did this happen?"  I think this is so important to remember.  But it's also a tricky balance.  We do need to thoroughly work through grief and not think that we can just brush it off.  That's not healthy nor is it  practical.  If we think we can brush it aside, we will actually only be making our problems worse…as they will grow like bacteria in a petri dish and become more lethal.  Chip's point was that once we've  done some of our grieving, we should stop and say, "now, what can I do with this?  What can I do and how can I allow God to use this situation to help other people?  How can I help someone else who may be going through something similar?"  Great reminder, isn't it?  If we don't try to get outside of ourselves in the midst of our grief, grief can instead become so selfish.  I have definitely experienced this first hand.

I'm thankful to be having opportunities to talk with other people who are going through baby loss, or to share with those who are on the outside wondering how to help those who are going through the loss.  And I'm thankful to be working on Solveig's Boxes for the hospital.  I have more to share about that and some other neat opportunities and will do so soon.  Stay tuned.

Buzz Conversation

My sweet Buzz boy still has the deepest thoughts at his age of five.  Tonight, as I was tucking him into bed we had a sweet visit.  Here is what was said:

"Buzz, do you think about Uncle Joel?"

"Yes, I do.  I miss him a lot."

"I do too, Honey.  I think about him all the time and I miss him so much."

Buzz said, "But he's in Heaven now."  A big smile spread across his face.  And it made me smile too.

Then I said, "What do you think he's doing today?"

Buzz said, "I don't know."

I replied, "I wonder if he's playing his guitar."

Buzz quickly said, "but he didn't die with his guitar."

Hmm…interesting.  "You're right honey, but he did love to play the guitar and sing.  And sometimes I wonder if he has a guitar in Heaven.  Maybe he's eating good food too."

Buzz said, "Yeah, and he's taking care of Solveig!"  Another big smile spread across his face.  Tears were dripping from my eyes at this point.

"Yes Honey, I believe that he is taking care of Solveig.  And that makes your mama so happy to think about that!  Uncle Joel loved babies."

"Will we see Solveig in Heaven?"

"Yes, Honey.  We will see her.  And that is something wonderful to look forward to.  I can't wait!"

Big smile on his face yet again.

I LOVE it when Buzz and I have these conversations about life.  He is such a precious boy and I hope that his depth of thought continues forever.

My Sweet Boy...A Thoughtful, Loving Brother

As I was helping Buzz get ready for bed tonight, we had another very special conversation.  He was having some deep thoughts, as usual.  Our conversation went something like this...

I can't remember exactly how it started, but all the sudden Buzz was saying something about having three babies in a mommy's tummy.  I explained that those are called triplets.  And that two babies at a time are called twins.  (FYI...this mommy doesn't have any babies in her tummy.)

Eventually I said something like, "we have three babies here on earth and three in Heaven."

Buzz replied, "you had three miscarriages."

I then explained, "well, technically the first two were called miscarriages and then Solveig was termed a stillbirth.  The miscarried babies were so tiny.  I had just found out that I was pregnant with both of them and wasn't very far along at all and nobody could tell that I was pregnant.  I didn't get to see those babies and I didn't deliver them like I delivered the other four of you.  When I had Solveig, she was born still.  That means that she had died inside of me and she was still when she came out.  That is why it is called a stillbirth." (For those of you who've had late term miscarriages, I by no means was trying to diminish that by this explanation...those are so different than the early miscarriages I had...and I didn't know if a 5 year old could quite understand all the differences just yet.  When the kids are older, I want to explain more details about that to them so that they can have a fuller understanding.)

Buzz...silence...and then, "I miss Solveig.  I want to see her again.  I didn't get to see her very long."

Me, "I know, Honey.  You only got to see her that one day when you came to the hospital to see her and we took pictures.  Would you like to see the pictures again?"

Buzz, "Yes, I want to see them."

We looked at the pictures.  I told him, "you looked so sad, but you were such a proud brother."

Buzz, "I was very sad.  I was sad because I didn't want her to die.  I want to see her again."

Me, "You will see her again.  We will see her again in Heaven one day."

Buzz, "I bet that Solveig is older than me.  I bet that she is older than Squeaker too.  Maybe she's like three or something."

Me, "Maybe so, Honey.  I don't know for sure.  But I can hardly wait to see her again."

Buzz, "I like Squeaker too."

Me, "Me too, Honey!  He's such a blessing, isn't he?  I'm so glad that we have him!  I'm so glad that we have all of you!  You are so special to us!  And you are such a good brother.  You will always remember Solveig, and we'll always talk about her.  You can always ask me about her."

Tears were flowing between both of us.  He wanted to snuggle and I held him close...grateful for this child with such a tender heart, so full of love.

These precious moments I hope I never forget.  I hope I never get too busy to stop and take in these times that are meant to be treasured.  I need to help my kids process their thoughts and emotions about all things, including the loss of three siblings.

Erik and I both hope that the life experiences that our children are having and the fact that we are choosing to face the good, bad and the ugly head on will help them in the long run.  I don't want them to be afraid of death.  I don't want them to be afraid to live each moment to the fullest either.  Rather, I want them to run this race that is set before them...keeping their eyes on Jesus...the author and perfecter of their faith.  May He give us all the strength that we need each moment of every day, whether we are feeling weak or we are feeling strong.  We need Him.

Shoes To Grow Into...

Tonight I was going through some bins of kids shoes in an effort to see what we have, to give some away...and apparently to reminisce and daydream.  When I got to the little girl shoes for tiny little feet I had a moment of realizing that our sweet Solveig wouldn't be wearing those shoes here on this earth.  The shoes that her big sister Bug wore will instead go to some other little girls.  And that is a really good thing.  But it's also a hard thing for me today.  I lost it.  The tears started rolling down my cheeks and my sweet Erik came over to hold me.  He is a great comforter and I appreciate him so much.

I decided that I will probably keep a few pair of tiny shoes for the sentimental factor and they will go in Bug's bin of childhood treasures.  There are some things like those shoes and the tiny baby clothes that have been so hard to part with.  I still cannot get myself to go through the preemie, newborn and 0-3 month size girl clothes.  And I don't know that I will be able to for quite some time.  So I guess they'll just stay in our storage area for now, and that is okay.  I'm learning to just let that type of thing be okay because it just has to be for now.

Do you think we'll wear shoes in Heaven? I wonder what the weather will be like there.  I wonder if the ground will be such that people just won't need to wear shoes.  There are people like that anyway who don't wear shoes here in our country as well as in many other parts of the world.  But maybe it will just be that we don't need shoes, period.  I think that everything will be so perfect that we won't have to worry about stepping on sharp objects or tripping on sticks or stones or supporting our wimpy arches in our feet.

Her little feet are probably romping around the fields as she chases the cheetahs...how I long to run with her and tickle those little feet...

Mom & Me Necklaces

**Wow...here is a long lost post that I just found!  I wrote this May 2012 for Mother's Day.**

A month or so after we lost Solveig, a beautiful surprise arrived in the mail.  Our sweet friends Jo and Toby had a necklace made just for me.  It is from The Vin_tage Pe_arl and I love it.  What's so special about it is that it honors all five of my babies...the two living ones and the three who are in Heaven.  (this should really say six babies, but of course it was written originally pre-Squeaker) The kids' initials are on tiny, silver charms.  Each charm is unique for each unique child.  And for my two miscarried babies who don't yet have names, Jo honored them with two tiny white pearls.

Thank you so much Jo and Toby.  This necklace is just stunning and I wear it a lot!!!

(I decided to not post the picture of my necklace on the blog as it has my kids' initials...AND, I just ordered a charm for our little "Squeaker" so that I can wear the necklace again in honor of all of our kids!)

I was so inspired by this necklace and decided that my mom needed to have one just like it to honor her and to commemorate her five babies that she brought into this world...three living, and two who are in Heaven.  Mom and Dad had conjoined twins that were miscarried at around four months.  Mom talks about how they were so tiny and she could hold them in her hands.  I can't wait to meet them in Heaven one day.  I've always wondered if they'll still be conjoined there or if they'll be in their own single bodies.

For Mother's Day, we gave the necklace to my sweet mom.  She has been and continues to be a blessing in our lives and I'm so grateful for her.  I love you, Mom.

Erik, Joel & Melody...and two small pearls for the twins...and one large one just
 because it came with the necklace.  My necklace is really similar to the one above.

Me and my mama...the sweetest mom I could ever imagine.

I made Paula Deen's Lemon Cake for Mother's Day.

If you or someone you know could use some encouragement, I can tell you that giving a piece of jewelry to honor that person or their loved ones is so special and can mean so much.  I'll always love my special jewelry that honors my babies, and I'm so grateful to have it.  You can find a lot of these kinds of things for very inexpensive prices nowadays - it doesn't have to be fancy or cost a lot.

Blessings to you.

18 Months Later...

Today marks 18 months since Solveig was born silently into our world...into our lives forever.  There are a lot of months that go by that don't seem so significant, and I'll completely miss the 29th day.  But for whatever reason this month I have been thinking so much about her and thinking about how she would be a year and a half old.  Wow!  Last night it hit me really hard and I was so sad.  I've been noticing other little ones who are around that age, and I've enjoyed seeing them toddling around getting into mischief, playing heartily, smiling and laughing...all the things that our little one would be doing too.  It usually helps to see the other kids at the age she would be at.  I remember my friend Lea telling me that she will always notice children who are at the age her little Johnny would be at.  Johnny would be almost five and a half now...just a few months older than our little Buzz...he died when he was just four months old from heart problems.  I miss him too and think of him so often.  Hugs to you, Lea and Dave and family.

So much has happened in these last few years.  We lost three children to Heaven.  We gained one to our earthly family.  My brother died.  There has been a lot of grief and sadness.  And there has also been a lot of joy in the midst of the sadness.  After we lost Solveig, I wondered if I would ever be happy again.  I didn't think it would be possible to ever find joy again.  But I did.  I have.  Then my brother Joel died and I thought the same thing...will I ever be filled with joy again?  Why is there so much sadness in this earthly life we live?  Why do people I love keep dying?  Why does it have to hurt so much?  But God has given me new hope and new joy.  Our little Squeaker has been such a help during this season of hurt.  He has brought much joy.  He will never replace his big sister Solveig...he is his own person, and we are so glad that he is.  She will always hold a special place in our hearts.  We will always talk about her and remember her.  I think of her every day...sometimes with heaviness and sometimes with happiness.  But either way, I'm grateful for the place that she has in our family.  I'm so glad that we had her.  I wouldn't want to take her out of the picture, for she has shaped who I am today.  I'll never be the same.  Some of my innocence is gone, but there is a new awareness of life and its fragility.  There is a deeper sense of gratitude for the children who are here with us, for my husband, for every moment that we live and breathe.  These are all gifts from God.  I don't believe that I will ever take these gifts for granted.  I don't think I could.

Sweet Solveig, I hope you are getting into a healthy dose of mischief in Heaven today. :)  I hope that you are having a lot of fun playing with all the animals, spending time with family members and friends who love you, eating yummy food, singing songs and banging on instruments, hugging Jesus and enjoying the life that you have.  We sure do miss you here, and we can't wait to see you again.  I can't wait to hear you singing songs.  Thank you for changing our lives forever.  We're so grateful for you.

Love,
Mama

Missing Her...

We just got back from a lovely family escape to the North Shore of our North Star state.  It was so good to be away, becoming more rooted as a family of five on this earth.  The idea of the five of us is becoming more and more comfortable and right.  But there are still many days that the awareness of Solveig missing is apparent to me...and today is one of them.

In the midst of digging out my mess of an office space I came upon some more ultrasound photos from our sweet girl, dated 2/13/12...just 16 days before she was delivered still into our world.  I thought I had already placed all of the ultrasound photos in her scrapbook, but here were some more.  Her eyes were open, her face turned towards the camera, and I could see the cord near her neck, wrapped around it.  That darn cord.  Still some days I really struggle with that part, seeing the object that was supposed to give her life but ended up taking her life.  You might be saying to yourself, "but this loss happened a year and a half ago...how can she still struggle with that?"  True, it did happen that long ago.  But I will always miss my girl.  And the depth of grief and loss has not fully departed from me.  I don't think a person can just all the sudden stop grieving after a year, after two years, after however many years you want to put on it.  There just isn't a specific timeline for grief, nor should there be.  You must know that there are a lot of great days, even weeks and months where I don't feel really down over our loss.  But then it strikes like a bolt of lightning and catches me unaware.  And for a moment time seems to stop.  And I can't do anything for a bit...except to write.

She should be here too.

How my soul longs to reunite with our daughter, with our two other little babies that we never got to hold in our arms and with my brother Joel.  Heaven will be glorious.  I know it will be.  And I will look forward to being there.

For now, Lord help me and my grieving heart learn to live on this earth in the way you wish me to.  I need your help.  Amen.

Celebrating New Life!

Much has happened in the last two months since I posted on this blog...the most important being that we delivered our precious little miracle boy into this world on April 12, 2013 at 10:13 PM via what I've been terming my "sort of emergency c-section."  Our new boy weighed 6 lbs, 2 oz and was 20.5 in. long!  His nickname which I will use on this blog and that we call him a lot in real life is "Squeaker!"  He squeaks all the time and it's pretty sweet.

Introducing Squeaker...

Mommy, Daddy & Squeaker :)

Dr. L, me & Squeaker and Dr. F

(Note - sorry this post is kind of long!  I just had to write out the details of our little man's birth story!)

In mid-March I had some preterm labor at 33 weeks and 6 days and was hospitalized for one night while I took medication to stop the labor.  It was such an interesting time of wondering if we'd have a tiny little preemie, hoping that he'd be alive and okay and also soul searching.  While I was laying in that bed really medicated, I had so much time to think.  I really had a lot of peace and knew that God was very much with me and my little boy.  Thankfully even though a test showed that I might have this baby very soon, I didn't and I was able to go home and continue the waiting game.

Truly I was almost shocked that I made it to 37 weeks and 3 days!  That was the day he came into our world...

It started like any other of my sort of normal days where I got my Bug onto the school bus, dropped my Buzz at preschool and then headed off to the coffee shop to get something tasty to drink.  Only on this day, I had brought along with me some reading materials and some things that I wanted to study.  The night before I had been chatting with a dear friend who lost two baby girls.  She was encouraging me to memorize some key Bi_ble verses that could stick with me during these days of waiting and during my upcoming labor...verses that I could rely on to come to the forefront of my mind...verses that could dispel the fear and anxiety which had been overwhelming me on most days.  Little did that precious friend and I know just how perfect the timing was for that bit of encouragement.  While I was at the coffee shop, I ran into a friend from college who said that he would be praying for me.  And then I went to sit down to drink my yummy beverage and pulled out some verse cards that I had saved from a Bi_ble study that I did a few years ago.  I had started going over the verses the night before, but right there in the coffee shop I poured over them several times just soaking in the truth therein and hoping that I could remember some of it...

At my dr. appt. that morning, the ultra_sound technician apparently noticed the umbil_ical cord around Baby's neck but at that time I guess it was okay.  She didn't tell me about the cord because she knew my history and knew that I would freak out.  But she did tell my dr. who was then very aware.  Then I had my regular N_S_T (non-st_ress test) during which I noticed the way the heart rate was very erratic and decelerating in ways that were concerning to me, the untrained yet all too aware mama bear who has now seen a whole lot of those test tracings.  My dr. came to me and said that I should go into the hospital for some extra monitoring that afternoon - that she wasn't worried and didn't want me to worry but she just wanted me to have some extra reassurance.  I gladly went into the hospital for this extra monitoring, and things were looking fine for awhile.  I even texted one of my friends who works at the hospital to say that I'd love for her to come over for a visit if she had time, and she came - thanks A.H.!  It was great to have you there with me.

Right after A came, I had a really strong contraction and Baby's heart rate decelerated rapidly into dangerous territory for two minutes.  I don't even know how low it went...they never told me and they turned the monitor down and away from me so I couldn't see.  Several nurses rushed into the room and shortly thereafter my Dr. came.  I was in a ton of pain with the contraction and could hardly breathe because I was so worried that I would lose my baby.  They quickly got me some oxygen which helped immediately to calm me down...as well as the reminder that I had to breathe.  It felt like a repeat of what happened with Solveig - I really thought we were losing this precious boy and I could hardly handle the thought of that.  I was paralyzed with fear in that moment.  But then God's peace washed over me and I knew that no matter what I had to trust Him.

Thankfully, things stabilized.  But my Dr. came to me and said that I would not be going home that night - that indeed we would figure out a plan and I would be delivered.  I was so glad to know that something was finally going to happen.  A little while later, my two favorite Dr.'s that I've seen during this pregnancy came in to talk to us - Dr. A & Dr. L.  They said that I had two options - I could go ahead with a regular delivery if I wanted to and they would very closely monitor me.  If things got out of control, I could always have an emergency c-section...but they acknowledged that it might make me too anxious, and they said that they were worried that Baby wouldn't be able to tolerate the contractions since they knew that there was cord around his neck.  It was also revealed to me at this time that indeed the tracing I saw in the clinic earlier that day had been what they call a "cordy tracing," and they could very easily see that the cord was in the way and being compromised.  They said that I could do a planned c-section and then I wouldn't have to worry if my baby could tolerate the contractions or worry that the cord would get worse - they could just take him out in a matter of a couple of minutes.  Erik and I had some time to think about it and pray about it.  It didn't take much to know and realize that we had to do the c-section - we just couldn't risk losing our precious son.  We wanted him out safe and sound.  (I want to write more about the c-section and the aftermath in another post.)

Everything felt so quick, even though we had some time to wait and process things.  It took a few hours from the time the dr. told us that we'd have the surgery until it happened.  But prior to the surgery, my sweet Dr. L who is a Chri_stian came into our room where she laid hands on us and prayed over us.  Tears of hope and peace washed over me, and I just knew that God was with us and would go with us into that operating room and beyond.  Thank you so much, Dr. L.  You have been a most amazing blessing to me and I'll always be grateful for you.

When it came time to go into the operating room, I had to walk down there alone without Erik and just with my nurse M.  Thanks M - you were just the person I needed that day - you calmed me down and also made me laugh.  When we got into the room, I had to sit on the end of the table and curl into a little ball as best I could for my spinal block procedure to begin.  I was petrified and began to cry.  M comforted me.  I was then asked to lay down on the table and put my arms out "like Jesus on the cross - just put your arms out and lay there and do nothing."  I don't know where this came from, but in that moment I ended up having the wherewithal to respond with "well actually, Jesus did a whole lot on the cross because He died for our sins."  Nothing was said after that, and well, I doubt that person who said that will ever say it again!  It was such an interesting moment, and I'm glad that I could share my faith in that way.

I laid down on that table and while I couldn't feel anything from the chest down, I all the sudden had such an amazing sense of peace and the presence of God.  I couldn't go anywhere - I was totally at the mercy of my medical team and the Lord's covering over me.  It's such a vulnerable thing to be in a surgery such as that.  My verses that I had memorized came to me and I was thinking over and over, "the spirit of the sovereign Lord is upon me," and "do not fear, for the Lord your God is with you!"  (Thank you dear friend who encouraged me to memorize scriptures...that was such a wonderful blessing!)

Erik came in after I was all medicated, covered in his gown and mask.  The big surgical sheet covering my lower half was there and he was on the side with me and my head.  It didn't take long and they told me that they were taking Baby out.  Right after he came out and they sucked the goop out of his mouth, I could hear him scream and immediately I felt such great relief and joy!  I kept saying over and over, "he's alive!  he's alive!  I can't believe he's alive!"  I really didn't know how I would respond in that moment, but it was incredible and truly one of the most amazing and joyous moments of my life.  After just a short bit, my little guy was in my arms.  Erik and I sang lullabies and hymns to him while my dr.'s were sewing me up.  It was so amazing too because Dr. L was there doing the surgery as well as Dr. F who had helped with Solveig's delivery last year.  Both later told me that they had never had anyone sing during a c-section and they didn't want it to stop!  It was so sweet of them. :)  I felt like I could barely phonate at all as I was singing through my tears...but it felt so good to sing to my new little love. Erik even got to watch some of my post delivery surgery while the dr.'s were sewing me back up.   I assured them that he was trained as an EMT so he would be fine and they said it was okay.  He was so fascinated with it all and loved watching the surgery.

So that is the story of how our little man came into the world.  We are so incredibly grateful for his life and treasure him so deeply.  More tales of his life and his big brother and sister will come...

Her Room

It finally happened today.  We were able to go to our hospital and spend time in the room where we delivered Solveig one year ago.  Over the last few days, I called several times to see if and when the room might be available.  Each time I called it was occupied, which I totally understand.  However, this morning when I called it was open.  We quickly got ourselves ready to go to the hospital before the room would be occupied once again.  Thankfully, the nurse that I was working with said that she could save it for me for awhile this morning which was incredibly sweet of her.

Before we left, I made a new batch of frosting for some cupcakes that we baked the other day.  I really wanted to bring the staff a treat in honor of Solveig's birthday.  They weren't fancy looking, but goodness, they sure tasted great.  One of these days I'll figure out how to make cupcakes look more fancy.

The kids were in good hands with my parents who had agreed to care for them while we went to the hospital.  When we arrived, we walked in with cupcakes in hand as well as a card to thank our wonderful staff, a program from Solveig's funeral and the photo card that we sent out around the holidays.  Sweet Vicki, our nurse that helped arrange this time in the room brought us to the room and let us have some time to ourselves.

For the next hour, Erik and I spent time looking at all of our photos from our short time with Solveig, listened to the music that we listened to during her delivery and afterwards, talked, cried and prayed together.  It was such a healing time for us and I'm so grateful that we chose to do this.  Erik said to me at one point, "it is so sad to think of this life that could've been."  I agree sweet man, and I'm so glad that you could verbalize that point.  It is incredibly hard and yet somewhat sweet to imagine what our little love may have been up to one year later.  Maybe she would have been getting into everything, crawling all over the place, pulling herself up on furniture, eating hunks of solid foods, giggling and talking, perhaps walking or preparing to walk.  But I think what my dear husband was more referring to was not just these baby moments.  I think he was instead probably referring to all of the phases of life which she is missing here on earth...the phases that we are missing with her as a family.  We aren't watching her grow up as we are our other children.  And often times when I see them doing different activities, I imagine little Solveig along with them and what it would've been like to have her along with us.  We don't get to see Solveig play the piano, sing in the children's choir, dance in a ballet, play soccer, create art masterpieces, run around the yard with the dog, ride a bike, learn things in school and so much more.  It's hard to imagine those things.

But I imagine also that she is watching us from the greatest castle in Heaven.  She is playing on Heaven's playground with different children and all kinds of animals.  She must be singing in the choir and playing instruments.  Or maybe she would have been tone deaf...who knows! :)  But whatever the case, even though we're missing out on these earthly moments with our baby girl, this life is such a blip on the radar of eternity.  When we are in Heaven forever, we will probably look back on this life here and wonder why we were so worried about so many things.  We will probably be so enamored with the splendor of God and His glory.  And our reunions with our loved ones will be so precious.  I can hardly wait.

We will see you again Solveig.  There will be no more what could've beens.  There will only be what is.  And that will be magnificent.  Until then, may you rest peacefully tonight and always in Heaven.

(I posted this picture before...but it is one that I found last year and still need to put up somewhere in our house.  To me, this is Solveig's castle in the clouds.  It reminds me of her in Heaven. :))

Solveig's Birthday - One Year Later

Since Solveig Sofia was born on February 29th, the day that doesn't exist except for every four years, we decided that we would honor her life on the 28th unless it is a leap year.  Today was that day. It is hard to believe that it has already been one year since our precious angel was born into Heaven.  Some of the days we have endured in this year have seemed so long.  There were days I just wanted to crawl into a hole and not come out for a very long time.  And other days, particularly as we moved further into the year, I was truly able to find enjoyment and peace.  Overall there has been a sense of peace.  I really have felt God's presence with me and with us even in those darkest moments.  That is something that I am so grateful for, and something of which I never desire to let go.

So today, the big one year anniversary of our baby's birth and death, we decided to do some really special things together as a family.  Our hope was originally that Erik and I would be able to go to the hospital to the room where we delivered Solveig.  There is a need for me especially to make peace with that sacred space, listen to music that we heard during the delivery and afterwards, and just reminisce about our daughter in the place where we first met her...and where we spent the most time with her.  Unfortunately for us, the room that we used has been occupied today.  So we will hope to go there sometime in the next week if it works out.

Since our hospital date didn't work out, we slightly altered some of our plans.  We took the kids to our wonderful museum for young ones where we made homemade paper, worked on an assembly line, delivered mail, and swung through the jungle and went to the moon with the cartoon characters who speak Sp_anish.  It really was fun to do something joyful that Solveig would've also enjoyed if she had been with us.  After playing hard for a few hours, we made our way to an As_ian restaurant for stir fried goodness.  Then it was onto the grocery store to get some pink roses, or in this case today pink tipped white roses as that was all they had.  And we picked up six pink balloons from the party store.

We made our way to the cemetery in the country where the snow was covering the ground in a white blanket, just as it was almost a year ago when we first buried our little girl.  I noticed as we drove up that there was already a freshly laid flower at the grave and I was so curious about it.  With roses in tow, we walked to the grave where we found that beautiful pink rose and a note from my sweet friend Natalie and her family.  What a blessing to have friends and family who have been there for us through this journey and who have been remembering us with calls, flowers, cards, emails, etc.  We are so grateful.  Thank you dear Natalie.  And thank you to the many others who have shown us your love.

We took turns laying our roses at the grave.  For some reason, the kids decided it would be cool to place each of their flowers on top of the headstone rather than by the ground.  Then we got out our six light pink balloons, just like the ones we had last year when we buried Solveig.  (Six balloons were for the four kids, including this little one inside of me, and us two parents.  I didn't intentionally leave out our two miscarried babies - and now that I think of it, I wish I had gotten two more balloons.) We decided to release the balloons together as a group, but didn't think about the fact that the ribbons were sort of stuck together.  What ensued brought great laughter as our balloons flew up in the wind and got lodged into a nearby tree where one quickly popped.  We decided that the one that popped must have been Solveig's balloon, and that maybe she was kind of laughing at us!  Erik said that she might have been thinking, "hey guys, I beat you!  I got here first!"  Shortly after that balloon popped, one of the remaining five balloons let loose and flew into the sky.  That made me think of her spirit flying to Heaven.  We reminded the kids that the reason we did the balloon release and visited the cemetery was so that they could remember that our bodies are not meant for this earth, and that we will all die someday and we do not need to fear death.  We told them again that we have hope in the resurrection of Jesus - hope in Heaven where we can also look forward to being reunited with Solveig and our two miscarried babies.

After Erik and I hugged and we were chilled enough from the brisk air, we left the cemetery and headed with Bailey dog to the dog park.  It was fun to take a loop around the park with the kids and to see Bailey enjoying herself with the small pack that was there.  We promised the kids that there was something "chaud" for them after the dog park.  They didn't know that word in Fre_nch yet, but kept trying to figure it out.  Once we got home, we made some hot cocoa (our something chaud - "hot") and warmed up a bit.

After a rest, I made some almond buttercream frosting for the vanilla cake I baked yesterday and set out decorating the cake.  I just wanted it to be simple and had bought some raspberries to place around it.  I found some candy decors that I could use to write Solveig's name and placed one little pink candle on top.  We decorated the table with a simple pink tablecloth and some girly butterfly plates and napkins.  And then the feast began...hot dogs, baked beans and salad.  We just wanted to have something simple, and the beans and hot dogs we felt would've been enjoyed by a one year old.

When it was time to sing and have cake, I was videotaping and could barely choke out half of the words for the birthday song.  It struck me again that the baby we were singing to was not physically with us.  But you know what else struck me today?  Her birthday in Heaven must be much greater than any birthday could ever be here on earth.  I can hardly wait to join her there to celebrate more birthdays.

For now, we will continue to honor our daughter and celebrate her short yet valuable life here on this earth.

Solveig Sofia, I love you sweet girl.  Your mama misses you so much.  I wish I could hug and kiss you and feed you your birthday cake...and sing songs to you and rock you and lay you down in your crib to sleep.  We will never forget you.  Your life mattered and always will.