Birthday Boys

We just finished the birthday marathon week.  Gabe and Zach's birthdays are five days apart so it makes for a busy week.  I still haven't figured out our traditions so it can get a bit busy especially since there are two celebrations back to back.  We made pancake breakfasts for both of them and then we celebrate at dinner with a dinner of their choice and cake.  This year, I tried to make small cakes for them this year so we don't have a ridiculous amount of cake that we "have" to eat!  We were supposed to have a party for them both but it will be in a few weeks since Zach ended up with a fever on his big day that lasted through the weekend.

For whatever reason, this year, both boys were really into their birthday and the fact that they were so much older.  The morning after Gabe's birthday he said many times, out of the blue, "Oh! I'm six.  I almost forgot I was six because I'm new at it!"  And Zach kept reviewing all the things he will now do since he's a "big boy"--go potty, clean up after himself, etc.  All stuff he does anyway so I'm not sure what his definition really is.  It was also good to see Zach so confident and excited about his birthday.  He called everyone to the table for his cake--"My cake is here.  Everyone sit down!"  And before we were halfway through singing Happy Birthday, he calmly blew out the candles and was asking for the candles out so we could eat.

Gabe will be starting piano lessons now that he's six and Zach will be taking a t-ball class.  I look at them and I do wonder where the time has gone.  I love seeing them each growing up, learning new things, being such good friends and loving Jesus.  I love being their mom, sorting out the fights, teaching them, playing with them, learning more about their personalities, cuddling them when they need extra hugs or when they are sick.  Being a parent is hard work, and even though I sometimes grumble about the messes or piles of paperwork around my house, I wouldn't trade the messes for anything else.    

shattered glass

We have been getting ready for Christmas and the season has been filled with all the usual traditions of baking cookies, parties, Christmas music and movies, and decorations. We also started a new tradition of going to a nearby town's Christmas parade.  I started that by accident--last year I convinced Pat that we should all go since I thought going to a parade would be fun.  It was ok and I didn't plan to bring it up this year.  But the boys brought it up and were adamant that we all needed to go.  It was freezing that day, literally in the teens, and we lasted about halfway before they were ready to go.  Overall the season has been filled with laughter and good family time which is exactly what we wanted this year.

Yesterday we went to the hospital where Sarah lived to bring some beautiful dresses that many have made for their bereavement program.  We had a chance to talk with a nurse who holds a special place in our hearts since she very lovingly gave us a dress on Sarah's last day.  She explained how helpful these dresses are since there are approximately 200 families a year who say goodbye to their little ones.  She is expanding the bereavement program at the hospital to be more than just mementos and to include bereavement training for staff to better support families who are losing someone.  Our heart is in this program that supports families because we cherish the kind words and gestures the staff gave us. We regularly look at the pictures, blanket, teddy bear and other mementos they gave us.

I have been reflecting over the past year and how different it is from last Christmas.  We were still in a fog, focused on getting through the holidays and didn't really enjoy them.  This year has been so full of joy.  I'm thankful that so many gifts we often take for granted such as laughter, smiles, and dreaming are back in our lives.

The other day, a friend was talking with me about a friend of her's who had just lost a baby prematurely. She wondered what she could do to help.  The best analogy I thought of is this--Our life before had been like a glass vase but when she died it was as if the glass had been shattered.  When we lost Sarah we also lost all the dreams we had for her and for our family.  We had looked forward to knowing her, seeing the relationships form with her brothers, and growing as a family. The past year we have been picking up the pieces and putting them back together knowing that the vase will never look the same again.   Who I am today, who our family is today, is not who we were sixteen months ago.

What can you do to support someone who has lost a child?  Know that you can't fix it or make it better.  Nothing can--our lives will forever be different because of what we experienced.  You can help the person pick up the pieces, help them sort through the emotions and figure out what the "new normal" is.  Ask parents questions about how they are, acknowledge difficult anniversaries, don't shy away from us.  Yes, we may cry, but love us enough to give us safe space to do that.  Others' presence as well as mementos help the healing process.  Some loving co-workers and another family gave us gifts of flowers so that each spring when they bloom we will remember Sarah. And we will remember their love and support of us as well.

Its the small gestures of support that mean a lot to families going through this process.  Yesterday, we learned how special the dress fund has been.  We really had no idea so many of you would support it, and we are grateful that those gifts are bringing comfort to grieving families.

Thanks for being on this journey with us and for helping us put the pieces back together.

Merry Christmas!

kid stuff

The boys have been saying and doing some silly things lately that has kept us all laughing:

Gabe at the table on Thanksgiving after we explained how a wishbone works: "If I get the big part, I want to become a duck.  Don't tell anyone."

Gabe after school: "Mom!  I was skipping today.  And I'm really good at it even though I'm not a girl!...Why are you laughing?"

Zach, responding to Gabe saying some mean words to him: "Dad!  Gabe's voice is being bad.  Take it away, dad!"  (with the tone of an announcer)

And we've been getting firmer with Zach (our picky eater) about what he eats.  He's down to one PB sandwich a day (from 5) and then has to eat whatever we give him.  Today he ate his first ever grilled cheese.  But first demanded that we put salad on it.  I never thought I'd have to beg a child to eat a grilled cheese.  At least he likes salad.  Last week he at pasta for probably the 3rd time in his life.  He needed PB to dip the noodles.  Baby steps...

Zach also has resisted showing us that he is learning things like his letters.  We will ask what a letter is and he will start being silly.  We've wondered if he's having trouble learning or what's going on.  Well, it seems he's learning just fine.  He wrote his full name, ZACH, last night without asking for help.  The only letter he acknowledges knowing is Z.  So, we've been tricked.  We believe he may even have a book written and ready to be published.

Transitions and moving forward

This blog was started as a way for us to quickly share information with so many who were caring for us when Sarah was in the hospital.  After she died, it was a place for me to share how we were doing but also for me to write about our grief process.  I wrote publicly for two reasons--first, I think that death (especially death of a child) is a topic that is understandably avoided.  I get it--losing a child is probably every parents' worst nightmare, its hard to know what to say to someone who is grieving since you really can't fix it, and maybe we worry that we will say or do the wrong thing.  But so many people lose babies and grieve in silence.  Perhaps people think it should be "easier" to lose a child since we didn't really know her, but that made the pain worse for me since I lost her along with all the dreams I had of what our relationship might be.  My hope is that those who lose babies will feel the support that they need, to know that others are around them, to be asked how they are doing.  And my hope is that we may all feel strengthened to reach out to parents who are grieving.  Because miscarriage and infant death are a lot more common than we all probably realize.

I'm off my soapbox now.

The second reason I wrote was because even in the initial fog I was in I knew that our family would make it and I wanted to document our journey.  It wasn't about "getting past" it or "putting it behind us"--that won't happen.  Sarah and her death changed us as individuals and as a family.  I wanted, and still want, to see how we would be changed as we pulled together, moved forward, let God heal us and figured out what our new normal was.

So here we are.  It has been a year since Sarah's birth and death and our grief isn't  as raw.  We are healing.  We will always have a scar across the picture of our family but instead of trying to hide it, we just know it is part of us.  We are still on a journey of letting God shape us and I've decided that I'd like to keep journaling.  At least for a bit.  I've learned to slow down and appreciate the small stuff and I'd like to record the small joys, lessons learned, and struggles dealt with.  And probably some goofy things the boys do.  Because they are goofy kids.

If you'd like to continue to follow along on our family's journey, it would be an honor.  And I hope to hear from you as well.  Let us know how we can help carry you in prayer or in tangible ways as you've done for us this past year.

Letter from Sarah's nurse & the NICU dress fund

Today we received a beautiful letter from one of Sarah's nurses.  R. was working the last night when we were called in when Sarah went in for emergency surgery.  She was with the Drs. when they came to tell us that things were bad and that Sarah was very likely going to die.  She stayed past the end of her shift and worked with another nurse to help us understand all that was happening and offered support as we made decisions. When we asked for a photographer they called one and R. asked if we wanted a dress to put on Sarah.  At first I said no-despite the face that the drs. had said she had a 0% chance at surviving more than a couple days, I was clinging to hope and didn't want to disturb our fragile girl.  A bit later, she asked again and we decided to just lay the dress on Sarah and tuck it around her so as not to move her much.  It was a beautiful white crocheted dress with a pink rosette and was just what I had envisioned for her baptism dress.  Later, after pictures, I asked about it and if they had lots of dresses--I assumed there was a closet-full.  R. said that she had been given the dress awhile ago and told to give it to a family who needed it. For whatever reason, she felt we were the right family.  That kindness shown to us and our daughter took a bit of the rawness out of the day.  Our girl was "dressed up" for a bit and we got to have sweet pictures taken as a family.

We started a fund to provide dresses to families whose premies are in the NICU where Sarah was.  Much more was generously given that we ever thought.  The letter says that the donations given in Sarah's name "have currently purchased over 75 beautifully handmade layette sets for infants and their grieving families."  Additionally one of their knitters "is from England and her profits from our [the hospital's] purchases all go to a charity known as Love Light Romania which supports children affected by disease and poverty in Romania." 

We are humbled to know that children and families are being cared for because of Sarah and so many generous people.  

Celebrate Sarah's birthday with us!

We will never know the extent of who was praying for and supporting us a year ago as our daughter, Sarah, was born prematurely and died nine days later.  As her birthday approaches, please help us

• celebrate her life,
• honor the wonderful Drs and nurses who fought for her life with us, and
• honor the wonderful family and friends who have supported us  

We believe that all life is precious--an infant who was on earth a short time as well as every person we are surrounded with each day.  All life is special and no one should ever be taken for granted or feel unimportant.  

Additionally, in our family birthdays are special and the first birthday is always a celebration of our child but also of our survival through that first, sleep deprived year!  This year was filled with its own struggles as we’ve grieved individually and as a family and...we’ve made it.  

From August 14-23 (the days of Sarah’s life with us), please do something to recognize and honor life--such as take time to listen to someone, offer assistance to someone in need, call or write to someone who may be lonely.  Focus on showing value and love to someone’s life.  If you’d like to leave a message of what you’ve done on our blog (below), that would be great.  If you’d like to stay anonymous, that’s fine too.  And if you'd like to donate to the NICU dress fund we started at Royal Oak Beaumont hospital, the information is below.  

Thank you for celebrating with us!

You are loved,

Patrick and Heather

http://sarahs-baby-steps.blogspot.com/

NICU Dress fund
Donations can be made to “William Beaumont Hospital NICU” in memory of Sarah Shaw.  Before she passed away, her nurses gave her a dress so we could dress her once and take some pictures as a family to help us remember her.  We would like to provide dresses in Sarah’s memory for other families who have to say goodbye to their little girls-this is a fund we started to support families in their grief. Checks or micro-preemie dresses (button or closures in the back, please) may be sent to William Beaumont Hospital 3601 W. Thirteen Mile Rd. Royal Oak, MI 48073-6769  Attn: Mara Sipols) Please put "Sarah Shaw" in the memo of checks so your donation goes to the right fund.  Thank you!

A Lifetime Ago

Life is ever changing; like it or not, our lives are not stagnant.  Most of the shaping comes in small ways, lessons learned, friends who teach us things, changes that are brought to our lives, and that’s when we can look back over a period of time and reflect on how all the small things added up to bigger change and made us who we are at that moment.  For example, I can look back over a handful of years and see how things I've read, people I've known, and life events have slowly shaped my life and made me who I am.  

Occasionally in life there are big events that happen that jolt us and create immediate change.  A year ago we were preparing to welcome a third little one into our family and had recently found out we were having a girl.  Boys were playing “baby” and were building a room for Baby Sarah out of couch cushions.  They were walking around holding an imaginary baby, pretending to feed, play with and put her in bed.  While we were still debating names, the boys happily called their baby “Sarah” and as I listened to them I happily thought about the time when all three would play imaginary games and laugh together.  Practically, we were getting the house ready for her.  We had new carpet put in the family room, replacing the 25 year old carpet, anticipating the time when a baby would be doing tummy time, playing and learning to crawl on it. The boys had been put into the same room, freeing up the crib and the nursery.  

And a year ago today, we were wrapping up a really fun week of play dates, time at the park, and swimming.  With my nesting in full gear and Gabe wanting to start painting the nursery, Pat took us all shopping after church to buy everything for the nursery. We bought all the pink blankets, sheets, decorations, bottles, and supplies. Pat planned to paint the nursery that week so that we could just sit back and enjoy the rest of the pregnancy with no more tasks hanging over us.  How were we to know as we happily wrapped up our nesting tasks that the next day our lives would completely change?  The next day, Monday, as I left for a routine OB appointment, I couldn't imagine that the same dr who two weeks earlier had said I was “better that perfect,” that Zach’s prematurity was probably a “fluke” and that I had a “great chance at going full term” would rush in to see me after my ultrasound with concern on his face and hold my hand as I cried.  I couldn’t imagine as I left for the appointment, telling the boys that I would be home in an hour to go swimming at a friend’s house, that I would not be coming home for awhile.   As I went up the stairs to the Dr’s office and began my ultrasound, excited to see my little one again, I couldn’t imagine that we would soon say goodbye to our little girl.  

I think it can be easy to think we are in charge of our lives and then when a big change crashes into our lives, we are reminded that we’re really not in control after all.  And life really is unpredictable. Maybe that's what shakes us most of all.  

Looking back a year ago, that Sunday where life felt good and it all made sense, seems like a different life.  Sometimes when I look back to that day, I almost feel as if I’m looking back at someone else’s life. Because life feels, and is, so different now.  The large waves of grief that initially swallowed us up, have turned into a calmer waters, but the undercurrent is still there.  We are learning to live with that undercurrent of sadness even while we are healing, experience joy, laughter, happiness and dreaming again.  It will always be there.

Sarah’s birthday and the anniversary of the 9 days she was with us are right around the corner and the waves of grief are picking up a bit.  As I look over the past year, I am incredibly thankful for how the four of us have drawn closer.  We have all put in some hard work while grieving and I really do believe that we are stronger, individually and as a family, because of the struggles we have been through.  We have really grown in faith through this year and I am grateful that God has not abandoned us but has been truly, truly faithful.  

“Faithful One” Selah

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6dFF_n5MqHs