On Birthdays, Expectations, Mirrors and Other Things...

At this time a year ago, I think Dr. Shonekan and I were talking over Matthew's survivability. We both agreed that there would probably be some issues due to his blood loss and associated loss of oxygen. Probably not too much later, the amazing pediatrician on-call, Dr. Hickey, and I were also discussing his survivability...what had happened, how he was such a fighter...how he'd rallied.

No one...

No one...

NO ONE expected he'd die.

And if they did, they were gracious enough and sweet enough and compassionate enough to keep that from me.

Because I had NO DOUBT that baby boy was going to live. He was going to prove to be even more of a miracle than I already knew he was. He was going to be the reason I had been a teacher...and one with a special affinity for special needs children....because it was God preparing me for how life with him might be.

We'd be grateful, grateful, grateful.

And then Dr. Hickey was called away...and she didn't come back. I know now she was called away because she was receiving information from Georgetown.

Information she didn't want to have to give. Information no one wanted to believe.

He was not going to live.

I don't remember much, admittedly. What I remember is random and based on what medicine I'd been given for the emergency surgery, iffy perhaps for accuracy.

What I remember the most is that God let me down. He betrayed me. He betrayed my trust. He betrayed my faith. He did not intervene and He broke His promise of a little boy with spaghetti all over his face for me to love and raise.

I was numb and I was shocked and I was in denial. And while even then I didn't believe that God had broken my heart, I sure as heck didn't care...because at that time, whether he allowed my heart to be broken or broke it didn't really matter. The bottom line was that it was broken. And has remained so for 365 days.

Will remain so for the rest of my life.

Today John and I marveled at how fast a year has gone. We talked about how much faster it would have gone if he was here, because I think we all know that children grow at astronomical speeds.

Well, the living ones do.

I did pretty well in church, all things considered. I prayed last night and before church to just make it through without crying. I was almost successful...right as I was leaving the dam broke, and thankfully, for just a bit in the car. We took flowers to his grave and shivered as we realized how it seemed like it was yesterday and a million years ago at the same time...how our life doesn't seem so different than it did a year ago and how it has been changed in the most dramatic way forever. Someone had left a sweet ornament at his marker and I was immediately touched by the remembrance that had been shown.

We got home and I crashed. I was tired and just tried to nap. I was somewhat successful.

We did not do anything big for his birthday. In fact, we didn't do anything.

I planned to make cupcakes for the hospital. I planned to bring them and some hats I've made today after church. I planned to send out blankets and hats and stuffed animals to Georgetown's NICU. John says that it was so clinical and could use some warmth. I planned to have already bought the rocker for our local hospital nursery. We've been planning to get the granite bench for his marker for months and months, but never have the right car when we go by the statuary. I planned to have some tradition set so that Luke will know that even before he was born, Matthew's place in our family was worthy and meritorious of tradition, whether he was here or not. I planned to have his remembrance cards out in the mail already. I planned to eat chocolate cake.

So when thinking about what I've 'learned' this year, I realize that plans are worthless.

They don't always happen the way you want them to and that's just the way it is. Whether it's because of something you did or didn't do...some basic things still remain.

Matthew is dead. He's not coming back. Nothing I do or don't do changes that and anything I do or don't do is really and truly for me and for John.

And we are ok with getting the things I'd planned to do done as we feel we can. (Which, the over-anxious Lori inside of me is screaming, better be SOON!)

I've also learned a lot about expectations...and how they really just have too much power in our lives. We've been sorely disappointed in our expectations of some and unbelievably and overwhelmingly surprised and grateful for things said and done by those that if we are honest, really did not expect much of. We've learned that we are happiest when we expect nothing and are just blessed beyond belief with whatever people are capable of being and doing.

I really and truly believe that people do the best they can, just as we have, and though it's easy for us to say what we'd do in certain situations, we often don't know until push comes to shove.

Push certainly came to shove this year...and we are ok with the roles that the people in our lives play...while sometimes we may wish it different, we also understand that just as we don't have any rule book for how to grieve a child, there's not really a rule book for how to deal with people who are grieving a child. So we try to be graceful and understanding and share our hurts with only one another so that we can behave the way we hope God wants us to behave.

I looked in the mirror today. I saw a face I haven't seen in long time. I'm grateful that it has been a long time since I've seen it, but I admit, seeing it again just sort of instantly transported me to every hellish moment I've had this year.

It was my eyes. They were tired and sad and just defeated. I was sort of surprised that I saw that look...I really did and still sort of feel like Matthew's birthday was going to be a hard day more because people are so thoughtful and caring and recognized and remembered it...and in doing so, sort of forced me to have to think about it with every hug and kind word or email. Of course, that's necessary, but hard nonetheless....and I guess I was just surprised when I looked in the mirror and realized the toll that had been taken.

The mirror doesn't lie, does it? It's been a hard year and my face shows it.

The thing I remember most from the day Matthew was born and died was how I felt about God...and how I felt God felt about me. And John.

And now, a year later, I can say that I don't feel betrayed anymore. I don't feel like my faith was shattered. Mostly, I don't feel that He broke His promise to me.

I feel like I'm able to more understand what His promises are. He gave me a beautiful, beautiful baby boy. He made me a mother. He surrounded and still surrounds me with people who comfort me and care for me and support me in a way that I often can hardly believe. He promised He'd never leave me or forsake me...and the fact that I continue to breathe is proof that He does. He promised He'd supply me with all my needs. I've not even known what they were...and yet they've been so abundantly met this year. He promised victory over death, and though I have to say that Matthew's death most certainly stings still...it stings because I ache for him...not because I don't believe that it's been conquered. I sometimes feel like taking a big victorious breath when I think about how amazing that is.

He promised His grace would be sufficient. It absolutely has been.

He promised eternal life...far longer than the life on this earth...and through sacrifice none of us can imagine.

He is faithful and His promises can be believed and trusted.

So, of all things planned and wanted, one thing we've decided to do is put our Christmas tree up on Matthew's birthday.

I was not keen on Matthew's birthday being lumped together with Thanksgiving or any other holiday/day for that matter. Again, the best laid plans...

In any event, we will put up the Christmas tree every year on Matthew's birthday. I want Luke to know that it is because of the miracle sent to us in a tiny baby boy we will one day see our precious boy again. When he thinks of putting up the Christmas tree, I want him to always remember we did it on Matthew's birthday...and we did so because we remember, celebrate and honor the sacrifice God made to ensure we will one day be reunited.

And we'll eat chocolate cake.

Missing my sweet boy....grateful for his birth and his life.

That time...

I told my sweet friend Nanci that this time of the month comes whether I want it to or not.

The time when another marker for Matthew is here.

I'd have an 11-month old. If he was like his mommy, he might even be walking. I walked at 9 months. Places to go, you know.

I bet his hair would be long enough to see little curls at the bottom. He might have some teeth. I bet I'd melt when he cried because that little dimpled chin would probably quiver like crazy when he did...mine does and he had my chin. I have no doubt that he'd giggle all the time at his silly puppies. Well, Sammy. He might not giggle so much if Dixie snarked at him.

My back would probably hurt like it does now, but only because I doubt I'd be able to put him down--I'd want to snuggle him all the time. We'd have had pictures in the pumpkin patch and in the fall leaves and we'd munch on the baby apple fritters I'd make him. Rather, he'd munch on them.

We'd be getting him ready for his first fall festival and costume. We ALMOST bought it last year when John saw it in Babies 'R Us after Halloween--it was a sweet lobster outfit and I just loved it. I loved that John loved it even more. I told him that we should hold off because buying stuff like that almost a year out was a bit risky since we didn't know sizing. (Writes the woman with two huge tubs of baby boy clothing sized 2T in the basement.)

We didn't buy it because I didn't know how big (or little) he'd be.

Not because I thought he'd be dead.

I went to the cemetery after Bible Study yesterday, something I pretty much do anytime I have a doctor's appointment or study. I wanted to bring some fall flowers. I finally broke down and got a silk flower arrangement so I don't have to worry about the fresh flowers we bring dying and just looking pitiful. When I got there, the pansies I planted not too long ago were blooming nicely, and they were red and gold--beautiful for fall. I was so glad to see them.

As I stood there, I prayed. I prayed for God to keep reminding me He exists and holds my heart. I gave thanks for my sweet, sweet little one whose precious body lay right there under my feet. I thanked God for the amazing miracle of the wiggly little brother who was squirming around telling me it was time for lunch.

I stared at his marker. Gift of God. So, so, so, so true.

I thought about how children truly ARE gifts from God. Miracles. Blessings. Amazing displays of God's grace and mercy and love.

And then I got bitter for a second. You shouldn't have to give a gift back.

I think this time is just harder now because it's so close to his birthday. I've had John go on enough deployments and trips to know that the anticipation/lead-up to him leaving is WAY worse than him being gone sometimes. I think that's what's happening now...I imagine the lead-up is going to be more difficult for me than the actual day.

Regardless...it's that time. It hurts every day, but some days more than others.

Missing my sweet little lobster....

This was the costume....baby was not included, of course.

Firsts...

The questions are:
What were some of the 'firsts' that you encountered after your loss? How do you plan to, or how have you dealt with special anniversaries and holidays and the memory of your little one?

The first and most horrific thing I really and truly remember after Matthew died was being wheeled down from labor and delivery to leave the hospital. I had all my bags in my lap, I was crying...and my son was not with me. I literally could not believe what was going on. I was just in shock.

Getting into the car with his carseat still leaves me sobbing at the thought. I can't even write anything more than that about it.

We had to go to CVS from the hospital for some prescriptions. The first thing that struck me was how surreal it was...life seemed normal for everyone. So normal. I can't convey how shocking it was to me that the world moved when my son was dead.

When we got home, the first thing I saw when I got into the house was Matthew's Christmas stocking...hung by the chimney with care before we left two days earlier in anticipation of him coming home to it. That memory still stings so much.

Our first Christmas without Matthew, thank God, is a blur. I don't even really remember it. The house was full of family and dogs and hustle and bustle. I was still numb and in shock. I couldn't even tell you much about that day but that I DID laugh--my niece gave a heartfelt karaoke version of Taylor Swift's song, "You Belong With Me," and my hilarious nephew gave it some spice.

March 3, 6, and 19 of this year were hard for me. I was in the middle of little Yellow's FET, John was gone, I was a year older and had lost a child and those dates were so happy for me the year before because they were the dates the dream Matthew had always been became reality. Now, they make me ache--wanting that joy back so badly.

We haven't even hit Mother's Day or Father's Day or his birthday or day he died. At this point, I can't even imagine what we'll do or how we'll deal. I know we will not go to our church on Mother's Day because that would have been Matthew's Baby Dedication. Thank God I have a pastor who is compassionate enough to give the heads up for that day. For his birthday, part of me wants to do something big and grand--wonderful like I've seen so many other moms do. Another part of me thinks that I just don't even have the heart or energy to do so. And then I think, "What? What could I possibly do?" I'm just too broken right now to contemplate it.

I think that every day presents me with some new first, and honestly, the way I deal with them varies. Sometimes, something will make me just fall apart. Sometimes it makes me angry and forces me to bite my tongue so I don't say something I will regret later. Sometimes it makes me wistful but resigned. Sometimes, it even makes me smile a little. I cry right after, but for a second, I smile.

I think that whether it's a first, a second or a 100 gazillionth (and for John, who always asks, "How many zeroes are in that number," I don't know--a gazillion)....I think it will be the same. Nothing set, no protocol...just taking it as it comes and dealing with it the best way I can when it does.

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I think, for my own remembrance, it says something that as I was labeling this post, Matthew's first was a label that I have used lots of times before...and it makes me cry thinking that most of the Matthew's firsts before he was born were so, so happy and now I am writing a post about them after he's died.

My heart is heavy today.

The Real 1st Year....

One year ago today, at 11:39 am, Matthew became a part of my life and heart forever.

He was an 8-celled beautiful little embryo, affectionately known as Red Fish (little Blue Fish brother or sister didn't make it)... I don't know if there are any words that could adequately express the hopes and dreams I had that day.

14 weeks ago, at 4:56 pm, my hopes and dreams were actualized in the birth of my beautiful gift of God, my John Matthew. Eight and a half hours later, my world crashed. He was gone. In his daddy's arms...

We survived his first Christmas; partly because I had family and friends surrounding us but mainly because I was still just in shock. As I still sort of have been for the last 14 weeks.

I've read and been told that the first year was going to be the worst for me because I had to make it through all the 'firsts' without him.

Well, even though November 28 technically started that year, for me, today it starts. Today is the day that I can start saying my life was never the same after. Today is the day he became part of my heart and today is the day that will always be bittersweet to me.

Friends, if you pray for me, please pray for me for the next few days. Just inserting the two pictures for this post leaves me sobbing uncontrollably. I cannot tell you how hard it is to be so heartbroken at the same time you are *willing* yourself to be optimistic and hopeful. For John, I likened it to when my mom died and he came home from Japan for two weeks. On one hand, I had just lost my mother and was devastated. Truly, truly devastated. On the other, I was SO ecstatic to see John--I hadn't seen him in several months and had missed him so much. Trying to balance those emotions was seriously the hardest thing I had ever had to do...until now. This is sort of like that, times 5 million. It's one thing to be dealing with a baby boy shaped hole in your heart. It's one thing to be hopeful and prayerful and excited about a new little life growing inside of you.

It's really sort of hellish to be dealing with both at the same time.

Matthew's First Christmas...

So not what I thought it would be.

This time last year, we had just gone to see Dr. Kipersztock at Shady Grove, and he told me that he was worried about me being happy and optimistic so he wanted me to order the book, "Happy For No Reason" or something like that...He seemed to worry that after 10 years, I might be a little skeptical and that he wanted me to be happy for happy's sake.

Hmm. I bought the book, and frankly, thought it to be a little touchy-feely for my taste. I didn't bother reading past a few pages.

I WAS, however, really pleased with Dr. Kipersztock and really felt sort of like that Christmas was FINALLY going to be the last one without a sweet little stocking on my mantle. As we put up our Christmas tree, I imagined THIS year being the one that had baby stockings and handprint ornaments. Remember, in January, I bought a pink AND a blue Baby's First Christmas stocking?

This year, as we were so close to Christmas, and we 'knew' Matthew so well, I decided against the generic and knew I had to get him his very own stocking. When having John help me pick it out, I kept asking, "You want that one? Will that be good for his entire childhood?" We finally decided on the train one because his Granddad loved trains so much.

Who knew he'd ever even see it? Who knew he'd never look in it? Who knew it would hang on an easel at his funeral instead of our mantle on Christmas morning? Let me tell you, I don't think there is a soul on this planet that had a clue.

In light of all of this, though, I have to believe that God knew. That's why we were called in early for induction--so there wouldn't be as much going on. That's why Dr. Shonekan's hands worked so swiftly and with such experience. That's why Dr. Finkelston was there and able to get the anesthesia done so quickly, even though he had already long given me the epidural. That's why Margaret Ann was in the operating room with me, right beside me and holding my left hand and praying with me. That's why there were SEVERAL other people who probably wouldn't have been and they did amazing work. That's why everyone scheduled to work in Labor & Delivery those couple days are so worth their weight in gold for the care and love and support they gave us. I really believe all those people were put there by God Himself.

God knew. The hearts of so many people just overwhelmingly entwined with ours as they showed us just how loved and cared for we are. We were and still are enveloped in prayers on a constant basis, based on the countless (and much appreciated and loved) emails and cards and calls we get telling us so. An EKG machine and all the accessories needed for it will be bought and given to a hospital worlds away and will help save the lives of babies considered "unwanted" if you can imagine such a concept. This has touched our hearts in ways no one can know.

God knew we'd be fragile and broken...He has sent us family from all over, whether in person or via phone/email/FB...He has sent His love for us in the various gifts we have received from not only friends, but complete and total strangers who just feel for us.

I believe God knew...and though He certainly could change the outcome, He didn't. But He didn't because to do so eventually leads to the loss of free will...and that is something He's given and would make this world a very different place.

No, He knew that EVIL, pure and simple was coming to our lives...and He gave us many blessings in so many different forms to help us through this evil. That's how I'm feeling right now...this heartbreak in our life is EVIL. EVIL. EVIL. And me not spending Christmas with my precious son is not because God needed a little angel or so that he could be in a better place or any of those other well-intentioned cliches that people try to give...it's because we live in an evil and fallen world and bad things DO happen to good people.

Which is why I desperately and wholeheartedly am trying to be the victor in all of this. I really feel like it is a test of some sort and I simply refuse to fail. I refuse.

So Matthew, humor mommy some more in listening to her...or allowing her to write to you. I am heartbroken that you are not with us here. I didn't even realize that one's heart actually and physically HURTS, but it does. I still would give anything in the world to hold you and raise you.
But I am grateful for every second that we shared, and promise that I will continue to try and be faithful in my promise to God. Right now, that's the best way I know how to honor your memory.

Merry Christmas, my sweet first-born and beautiful son. Thank God for you.

GO HOKIES!

Matthew--your first game was fabulous! Take out the fact that mommy's back and ribs were KILLING her, there was rain ALL DAY LONG, we had some slight ticket issues (all worked out for the best) and the porta-potties pretty much made me want to throw up and daddy and I can still unequivocally say that it was SO worth it! No one thought we'd beat Miami and yet--we not only beat them, we KILLED them! We went with our long-time Hokie friends Kevin and Melissa and Chris and Bridgette and had a great time. Two weeks ago, when we planned this trip, I was feeling much more mobile than I currently am, so I was sort of wondering what the heck I was thinking yesterday. Then, standing in the stadium with 66,000+ other people, I remembered: I was thinking that I was a Hokie and that's just what we do. We suck it up and pull it off.

We bought you a couple of cute little things to get you started. I loved Auntie Nanci's Facebook comment about helping you take a path down the Wahoo road, but rest assured, just in the shirt I was wearing yesterday, you've already been branded a future Hokie!

Mommy is wearing a shirt that says, "Future Hokie" and has an arrow pointing to YOU!

Beginning the tailgate process. It's raining, but just getting started!

Rain's getting a bit heavier. Introducing the Great Pumpkin.

After we've tailgated...and are headed to the game. Wet, but not drenched. Yet.

Before we headed to our seats, Melissa and I took a bathroom break!

We met up with Daddy and Uncle Kevin...who thought it was funny to take a picture of my back because I had my pillow under my poncho and I looked like a Hunchback. Nice.


You TOTALLY loved this cookie! SO DID I!

You're a mover and a shaker!

I just got off the phone with daddy (before he's incommunicado for his Man vs. Wild extravaganza) to let him know that when he gets home, he'll be able to see my tummy move because you are kicking me. He's been waiting for that for months! I have been thinking it would be creepy...but I have to say that it didn't creep me out like I thought it would. You've definitely been kicking enough to seriously feel you, and even see *little* blips on my tummy...but just now, as I am on the sofa in the most comfortable (or least uncomfortable, if truth be told) position I can find, I see my stomach bouncing all over the place and find it kind of funny. Daddy said, "Kind of like Alien, huh?" and yes, that's sort of what I had been thinking, but not imagining you as an alien. He said it was cool, and probably made it seem more real like I was nurturing something real. Hmmm...I've been feeling like that for a LONG time, whether you moved or not! In fact, now that your brain is really in overdrive for development, mommy's working on your scholarship-getting skills by taking an even more amped DHA/EPA supplement. The bottle says it is great lemon-tasting flavored, but it fails to mention how OILY it is...but that's ok if it gives you more super brain cells!

Anyway, just wanted to let you know that you are really starting to flex your muscles and my bouncing belly is proof. I'm sorry daddy isn't here to see it, but I have no doubt that when he gets home, he'll be hawking my tummy to look for your karate.

Someone call 911...

...because let me tell you, I've been ROBBED!

I should start by saying that I readily admit that though I am not a Trekkie, I do like Star Trek, did like it when it was actually a television series, have seen the movies, can recite the "Space, the final frontier" opening, and can even (on good days) make the Spock hand salutation. So, since today was a freebie day for John and me, we decided that we'd go see a movie. There were several out there we'd like to see--A Night At the Museum, Terminator, Star Trek. So, decided on the 4:10 showing of Star Trek.

The movie theater around here STINKS. It is a travesty. It is also a testament to how local this county is because we were SUPPOSED to get a fabulous new theater a few years ago, but the city council member/St. Mary's Founding Fathers descendant/owner of the crappiest movie theater EVER put a stop to that really fast by making some deal with the developer to give them the land at a better deal if the developer DID NOT build a new theater and instead built a BJs. (Which is nothing compared to Costco, but what can you do?) Seriously, this theater is awful.

The carpet still smells like 1970 and the seats may be circa 1981. The price of the movie tickets is highway robbery, but worse than that, the concession stand is selling popcorn and soda like along the scales of some coke dealer. It's ridiculous. The theater we were in was small and stinky and the screen was too small for most every preview. The movie started about 15 minutes late (hey, when you're the only dog in town, why perform on time?), and the bathroom? I fear I may have to start some antibiotic courses on Monday based on the amount of germs with which I probably came in contact.

It'd be one thing if the movie theater even came CLOSE to supporting the ridiculously outrageous price of a ticket, but this place is just a sin against man and has made me so mad. I'm writing a letter to that manager (like he or she will care) and letting them know that I will NOT be back. Ever. Annapolis may be an hour and 15 minutes away, but worth every penny. I don't know how families can take their kids to every latest and greatest movie that comes out because John and I dropped $25 on just the tickets and a dumb little kiddie combo for some popcorn and a drink. A normal family of four would have to really save up just to go to the flipping movies! So, I hope Molly (or Matthew) enjoyed it because that may be the last movie she (or he) goes to in a long time. It would cost less for John to finish the basement with his projection room and buy the movies as they come out!

As for the movie? Loved it. I think they did a great job of finding actors who really captured their future selves' attitudes and personalities. Plus, it was a good storyline. Okay, maybe I'm a little Trekkie.