Editing....

Editing some tiny, tiny prints tonight. 

A little darling Madison. 

Not even an inch and a half from heel to toe.

Can you hear the audible sigh from here?

Miss Dakota Blakely

Another darling angel...Meet her HERE.

Sweet little footprint

Beautiful work by the momma's aunt

Not just one....but two blankets

For more precious prints

Fit for a special little cowgirl

Daddy's Little Girl

" Here she is

All peaches and cream

Our sweet little girl,

Our long awaited dream."

-Author Unknown

My dear hubby has been much on my mind lately.  I left him last weekend to go on a scrapbook retreat.   I honestly didn't hesitate because he has always taken care of the boys without any difficulty. 

I also know that he is quite capable of taking care of a baby.  He had to take care of our two older boys when they were babies when I used to work evening and night shifts as a young nurse in the Army. 

What is on my mind is that I still haven't asked him is what he thinks of having another baby.  Let alone what he thinks about having another boy.  What I haven't asked him is how he is feeling?  I haven't even asked him about how his grief is with this arrival of such a bundle of joy.  Least of all, I haven't asked him if having another boy makes him miss his little girl all the more.  I can honestly say that it has.  I wish she was here.

 

But here is what I DO know.

I know that he lovingly tends to Jamie's tree. 

 I know that he is able to say her name without choking up.

  I know that he shares my blog with others. 

 I know that he is supportive of my blog, my online support group, and my craziness (like mailing my doppler to Canada yesterday to a CTT momma carrying a rainbow baby).

  I know that I sent him this link to an article that was brought to my attention on my online support group.  It is the story about three NCAA basketball coaches that all have a common bond.  The loss of their babies.  We are HUGE fans of college basketball (just ask my mom...I think she knows all the Big East teams after her visit)Dearest hubby immediately responded to my email.  He said that he had seen it featured on CBS sports during the tournament.  His quote "it was an unbelievable piece.  I forgot to tell you about it."

I wonder if he forgot to tell me because we don't discuss this issue outright, or if he really just forgot.

Why don't I ask?

I don't know.

 

Carnival

The rides are bright and colorful.  People are smiling, laughing, eating as they wait in lines.  The games are noisy.  Delightful, happy screaming can be heard in the distance.  The rides move quickly and frenetically. Huge stuffed animals hang from the arms of big, burly men.  There are tears on little ones that just can't seem to win the coveted prize.  Sticky fingers.  Food encrusted mouths.  Babies crashed out in their strollers.  Moms that are irritated with the child that just doesn't seem to listen.  Mom and dads with cameras hanging from their necks in hopeful anticipation of the lasting memory. Moms that are drinking in the sight of their child's first pony ride.   Dads proud of their children for riding that scary rollercoaster.  Teenagers moving in packs, oblivious to the world around them. Little girls running with pig tails and colorful dresses.  Little boys with tussled hair, wearing their jeans and cowboy boots. 

A little girl with wispy blonde hair and the sweetest dress, passes by me.  Her thumb in her mouth and her other hand tugging her ear.  She looks right at me.  She could be my Jamie.

Jamie should be here for her first carnival. 

 She should be bright eyed and taking in all of the sounds and sights. 

She should be here....

Christmas Letter 2009

Dear Family and Friends,

I will start off saying that this year’s letter might be a bit different for us, so please hang in there through the end! 

 We announced to the boys In March that the arrival of a baby brother or sister was due November 13th.   They could not contain their excitement!  To be big brothers…what a boon!  They debated about whether it would be a boy or girl.  They argued where he or she would sleep.  They guessed at different names at the dinner table.  They debated whether it should be a “J” name.  They battled with us constantly to find out what sex we were having, even though I stubbornly refused to find out.  The dust settled when the school year ended, and the family was excited to enjoy the preparation of the nursery over the summer.   Oh the bliss!

On June 24^th, our lives were forever changed.  We received the worst news a parent could ever imagine to hear.  At our routine ultrasound, they discovered there might be something seriously wrong with the baby.  After an amniocentesis, a fetal MRI, numerous high level ultrasounds, countless appointments with doctors and specialists, the verdict was given.  Our baby had a lethal skeletal dysplasia, or in layman’s terms, a fatal dwarfism.

 Despite recommendations, we decided to hold onto hope that he or she would have a “normal” dwarfism and give the baby the best possible chance and carry to term.  As the weeks went by, it became increasingly clear that our hello would also be our goodbye.  We instead changed our course to prepare for the worst and hope that we would at least not lose the baby before the delivery.  We gathered our courage and strength, and hoped that we could celebrate this child’s life, as short as it would probably be.

We planned all that we could to make sure we had a professional photographer, a special outfit, and a plan of care for comfort.  We also decided to wait for the surprise of boy or girl, since it would be one of the only things we could be excited about.  The baby went to most of big brother Butter's tennis matches.  There was wiggling and squirming while listening to Bean's guitar.  We endured the ferocious Houston heat while watching little, big brother Bunny's play in summer baseball tournaments.  Never was there a more active baby to remind us of its presence.  And every night, we settled to sleep after a nightly hug and kiss from Bunny and sometimes a lullaby from mommy. Despite the baby’s failing health and mine, we were able to make it a couple days shy of 36 weeks.  It was decided that a cesarean section would be the best way to deliver, due to both baby and my health complications.

On October 14^th at 7:39am, Jamie Lynn entered this world with the tiniest cry. Like her brothers, she was nice and hefty at 5lbs, 4oz despite being four weeks early.  She was a mere 14.5 inches long from her perfect head to her perfect little toes.  With her too small limbs, and chest too tiny to survive this world long, Daddy quickly baptized her with the healing waters from Lourdes, France gifted to us by Father Drew.  After a short snuggle with me, he swept her away to be introduced to her big brothers.  A short time later, which felt like an eternity, we were all reunited as a family.  We were able to dress her in clothes washed and smelling like home.  We exclaimed over her shocking full head of the whitest blonde hair.  The boys declared her “cute”.  We adored her tiny hands and her, oh so perfect, feet.  Aaron was enthralled with his sweet baby girl. 

We were together as a family, as she drifted away, her perfect little footprints etched on our hearts forever at 8:54am.

Her immediate family arrived to celebrate her life at a memorial Funeral Mass on November 14^th.  With Father D__ presiding, Mary T__ singing solo, and family gathered round, we said our final goodbyes and wished her well on her journey.  As Father D___ said during his homily, if we had opened the funeral to all family and friends, it would be a packed house indeed.  He couldn’t have been further from the truth.

And this brings me to the conclusion of our letter.   It has always been clear to us in the past, but more so now, that we are loved by the outpouring of prayers, thoughts, and letters from so many near and afar.  We are heartily thankful to all those who made donations to the Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep organization that provided us with the most beautiful photos of her.  To those who are just getting this news, we apologize.  This has been the most difficult burden to bear, and even more painful to share.  I apologize for not delivering a more traditional G_ Family Christmas Letter.   However, to not tell Jamie Lynn’s story, would be to dishonor her life and her memory.

For our family, the year of 2009 belongs to Jamie.  And always will….

Mommy, Daddy, Butter, Bean, and Button

"An Angel in the Book of Life Wrote Down our Baby's Birth,

And Whispered as She Closed the Book,

Too Beautiful for Earth."

Jamie Lynn

Announcing the birth of our daughter….

  We were blessed to spend a little over an hour together as a family. She is now a beautiful angel in heaven watching over our family.  We thank everyone for their kind words, thoughts, and prayers through this difficult time these past few months.   In lieu of flowers or gifts, we would appreciate donations to the Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep Organization that sent a volunteer professional photographer to take photos of Jamie at no cost to our family, for lasting memories.  Donations can be made at nowilaymedowntosleep.org in her name.