River LOVES music. He especially loves when Joseph plays the drum for him...its almost like electricity gets built up in his body and he just wants to explode! The videos are a little long (around 3min), I made them for my parents but decided to share them on here as well. Tommy and Joseph played music for River last night and he was in heaven. He does this funny thing where he opens and shuts his mouth to the beat...its like its his way of contributing to the jam session. Haha. We were getting a kick out of it. Anyway, hope you enjoy. The videos can be accessed by the three links below. Love you all!
Monday, December 21, 2009
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Thankful
So much to be thankful for. River has been such a gift from God in the midst of this holiday season. It doesn't seem to matter how much time has passed, I still feel the absence of Sarah a bit stronger during the holidays. At times, it feels like our family is missing something - someone. I load up the car with River and have a feeling of absence, knowing his big sister isn't crawling into the car with us. There's a family we know at church who gave birth to their daughter a few days before I gave birth to Sarah. She's walking and talking...always dressed in cute little dresses with her hair in blonde pigtails...a constant reminder to my heart of how big Sarah would be if she hadn't died. Sarah and River would have had so much fun together.
I can't help but overflow with joy when I look at River. He's constantly laughing and smiling, filling our house with the sounds that I so longed for these last so many months. Our house never felt more quiet after losing Sarah. The silence was intensely painful. In the same way, River's joy has been intensely beautiful. He has seriously been such a river in the desert...a source of life and laughter. Joy is so healing. His love is so pure and real.
I was reminded over Thanksgiving just how vulnerable and precious our lives are. Losing Sarah has allowed Joseph and I a place of such gratitude in our hearts...the little guy could be crying at his absolute worst and I still well up with gratitude. I just can't take him for granted...I can't. I waited and fought and cried and experienced such loss....he is a gift that I get to open and re-open every single day of his life. What a beautiful thing life is.
How precious our lives are.
How thankful I am for my family.
How thankful I am for the gift of life and gratitude.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Breathing scare, flu and teething....oh my!
Okay. I promised to write on here sooner, but once again time has slipped by. Joseph happens to be at work and River is down for a nap, so I thought I'd get a quick entry in while the house is quiet. Soooo, where to start. It's been quite the month. A few weeks back we had some friends over for dinner and River was fast asleep in his kanoe (click here to see what a kanoe is). Joseph and his friend went out on the front porch to enjoy the stars while my friend and I sat on the couch inside. A few minutes passed and I had a funny feeling in my gut....something told me to check on River. So, I went into the room and touched his cheek...it felt a bit cold. I then put my hand on his stomach to make sure he was breathing okay (I don't know about other Moms out there...but I'm always checking his breathing!). I didn't feel any movement. I figured he was just in a deep sleep and moved to his chest. No movement. I grabbed his hand (which will usually cause him to pull it back or wrap his little fingers around my finger) and it litterally just dropped to his side when I let go. At this point I had the craziest surge of adrenaline. Thoughts started filling my head, assuring me that I had just lost another child. I was thinking SIDS or something. I pulled the blanket back from him, reached in and started to shake (not violent of course) him and yell his name. River. RIVER. RIVER. It felt like an eternity, but after about a minute or so he finally gasped and took in a deep breath. With his eyes still shut, he went back to normal breathing and kept right on with sleeping. OH MY GOSH. I can't tell you how terrifying this was. All my fears (after losing Sarah) were alive and raw, reminding me of how fragile life really is. We haven't taken a single day with River for granted....most days I don't think anything of it, but every once in a while I have this horrible feeling like we're not going to be able to keep him for long. Like God must have plans to take this child away as well. I know it sounds terrible, but that's how I feel. So all of those emotions came welling up and I burst into tears after leaving the room. Ahhhhh, I can't lose another child. I think my heart would implode.
I called his pediatrician the next morning and he told us it was time to move him out of the kanoe and into his crib (with a flat/hard mattress). Sooooo, down with the kanoe and up with the crib. We had figured we'd put him in a crib later on when he was older...but for now he was LOVING his kanoe. I guess the doc said that sleep apnea can happen with babies if they don't have enough space to stretch out...so we no longer swaddle or tuck him in...its just him and his cute little dinasour pjs. Of course we put a blanket over him, but nothing tight. Ahhhh. So glad that's over.
Then this last week our poor little guy got the flu (NOT H1N1 thankfully). My mom called on Friday to tell me our little 6month old niece in CO got H1N1. The poor little thing has been throwing up and coughing up a storm. Literally hours later, River came down with a 103` temperature and was super sick. By Tuesday of this week he was finally feeling more himself - smiling and laughing again - but for a few long days, he was miserable. I admit. I cried right along with him a few times. I felt so helpless! This was probably the first of many tears I'll cry over not being able to help him in certain situations....but it was hard. Other Moms, you know what I'm talking about. I kept thinking about my mom who had to mother my older brother through a dozen surgeries growing up (hydrocephalus). I can't even watch the poor guy suffer through the flu, can't imagine watching him go under the knife. Ugh. I also kept thinking about moms in developing nations who can't just drive down the street to buy some Tylenol to knock out the fever. Moms who have to watch their children die in their arms because they don't have medical care or food. My heart breaks for those moms....more like aches. Sigh.
On a lighter note....River has started the wonderful world of teething! I don't think teeth will actually pop through anytime soon, but the process has begun! We change shirts often and enjoy drool baths throughout the day as he slobbers and spits and chews on everything and anything. We're loving it. He's just so darn cute. The camera has been dead for a while and we couldn't find the charger anywhere...but thankfully we found it today, so after charging up tonight I'll start getting more pictures! Not that you've been missing them or anything...but I'm wanting to share my handsome son with you!!
Being River's Mom has been an absolute delight. He's so much fun. So full of joy and laughter. I can't help but feel thankful. Tonight as I was rocking him to sleep I had a flashback of the hospital room that night I gave birth to Sarah. I saw me holding her, just as I was holding River....only her little body was lifeless. I couldn't remember what she felt like. I couldn't remember how heavy she was or how her little hand felt in mine. I don't want to forget. I can't forget. I asked God to remind me. I hear stories of other women who have lost children and God giving them dreams or pictures of their child. I would love to see Sarah in my dreams....someday.
Okay. Until next time.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Overdue Update!
I can't believe how long its been since I've updated this thing. I have so many stories to tell. Tears I've cried. Laughter. Some scary moments....but I'm exhausted right now and don't have the energy to type. But I promise to update soon...I really miss writing on here, its been such a refuge and place of processing. So for now, here are a bunch of recent pictures. River and his buddy Jaya (Jaya's mom Bobbi and I were pregnant together and gave birth 3 days apart...its been so fun watching them grow together!) Also, we took a trip up north to visit Joseph's family...so a few pictures from that trip too. Hope you all are well. I miss being on here....more to come soon!!
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Fall has officially arrived
But this morning...this morning I woke up and smelled fall in the air. My skin experienced the cold northern winds and my heart moved forward. This isn't to say that I haven't walked through some healing, experienced joy and laughter and felt the warmth of the sun. I have lived and enjoyed life, but to be honest...I literally didn't notice a change in seasons. It all felt and looked the same to me. But this morning, the seasons have come alive again and I am no longer wrapped up in my winter coat.
I've come so far in this journey of healing...thank God for a change in the weather of my heart. I can hear a song of passion starting to flow through my blood again...warming my heart and steadying my soul.
Oh to feel again....welcome fall, I've missed you.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Not moving on
A friend sent this to me today and I was really touched. I can only hope that 60 years from now I'm still talking about Sarah...thanks Nathalie for thinking of us. You've been an amazing support through all of this!
Here's the post:
Here's the post:
Saturday, September 05, 2009
Don't Move On
When you're grieving, well-intended people sometimes say, "It's time to move on." And if you get stuck in the early phase of grief where every single thing you do -- eat, sleep, dress, talk -- relates directly to your loss, people might say behind your back, "She really needs to move on."
The very notion of moving on has made me fear I'm grieving incorrectly -- I'm stuck, depressed, or insane. But today, six years since my triplets died, I can finally say with confidence that I'm not moving on. When an intimate dies, it's up to you to respond in your own way. If you need to move on, maybe because the person or their dysfunction tormented you, then you're finally free to enjoy this world without them. But if you weren't ready for them to leave, then you can keep them close.
Theologian William Spencer writes in this month's Christians for Biblical Equality newsletter about his mother. As her Alzheimer's progressed, a physician asked her how many children she had, as a memory test. She added one to the usual number, but it wasn't due to memory loss. Bill learned she had a stillborn baby, and never spoke of the baby even to its siblings. Another friend of mine said that, as her mother was dying, she spoke most often of her baby who had died sixty years earlier. She was eager to finally get to hold that baby.
You don't have to move on; you can move with. As I'm sure many of you do, I have a small collection of dearly departed friends and family who move with me in this life. They each offer something different to me - hope, love, courage, and joy. May they rest, and may we move, in peace.
When you're grieving, well-intended people sometimes say, "It's time to move on." And if you get stuck in the early phase of grief where every single thing you do -- eat, sleep, dress, talk -- relates directly to your loss, people might say behind your back, "She really needs to move on."
The very notion of moving on has made me fear I'm grieving incorrectly -- I'm stuck, depressed, or insane. But today, six years since my triplets died, I can finally say with confidence that I'm not moving on. When an intimate dies, it's up to you to respond in your own way. If you need to move on, maybe because the person or their dysfunction tormented you, then you're finally free to enjoy this world without them. But if you weren't ready for them to leave, then you can keep them close.
Theologian William Spencer writes in this month's Christians for Biblical Equality newsletter about his mother. As her Alzheimer's progressed, a physician asked her how many children she had, as a memory test. She added one to the usual number, but it wasn't due to memory loss. Bill learned she had a stillborn baby, and never spoke of the baby even to its siblings. Another friend of mine said that, as her mother was dying, she spoke most often of her baby who had died sixty years earlier. She was eager to finally get to hold that baby.
You don't have to move on; you can move with. As I'm sure many of you do, I have a small collection of dearly departed friends and family who move with me in this life. They each offer something different to me - hope, love, courage, and joy. May they rest, and may we move, in peace.
// posted by Jenell Williams Paris @ 1:08 PM 4 comments
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