You Would Be 7

Today, you would be 7. First graders.

And that is how we celebrated you..

Because of COVID, and restructuring of the hospital where you were born, our usual visit/donation was not really an option. Really, we knew for many months that this year would not be the same. But we did the best we could to keep your memory alive.

We started by making a donation to the school where you should be this year. They had coincidentally just started a "closet" at the school for students/families in need. So, we donated clothes, shoes, accessories.. that you would be wearing.

It hit me harder than expected when that clothing arrived on our doorstep. Most notably, a pink tie-dye sweatshirt.

It was so unlike anything your little brothers own, so it was unavoidably 'different.'

Different in a way that hurt. Different in a way that ached, as it reminded me what was missing.

I could hold it up and see my baby girl. How tall you would be. Imagining you picking out your outfit for school. It's like seeing someone through the fog. It's both clear and blurry as your brain fills in the blanks.

But in this case, it was my heart guessing who you would be today.

And it brought me to my knees. Right there on the kitchen floor, I just cried.. holding that pink sweatshirt. I felt like I couldn't breathe.

Grief is just like that.

That gnawing pain of what-ifs and could've beens.

But it is also a gift.. because it means I got to love someone (or two someones) that deeply.

And all I can do, year after year, is find a way to channel that love. 

You left, but it didn't.

So, a few kids in our community will have new jeans, new shoes, and new gloves.. because YOU were, and are, so loved.

After dropping off the clothes, we headed to your birth hospital.

I knew I wouldn't be going inside this year, and I went back and forth on if we should bother. But as the day got closer, the idea of not going was literally painful. It would keep me up at night. 

I knew I had to go. 

It is still the only place you knew -- the only place you breathed air into your lungs. And as long as I am able, I will go. 

Even if I have to sit outside. Even if it's cold and dreary.

I will go to remember you. 

I will go to read to you.

But I don't read because I think you can hear me. I read to remind myself I still have breath in my lungs. That I am a mother with a story to tell -- about that place, and the two people I met -- 7 years ago.

It is crystal clear when I am sitting there with you.

"Goodnight stars. Goodnight air. Goodnight noises everywhere."

Happy birthday, my babies. 
Goodnight, Jasper and Bodhi.

You are loved.

Four Years

There are just minutes left in the day.. what should be your 4th birthday.

It's a strange feeling each year, as if at midnight, I have to say goodbye again.

Today.. we remembered you. We celebrated you. And, as always, we missed you.

Today.. we delivered so many books, kindly donated by family, friends, and strangers, to the place where you were born. The only place you ever knew.

Though we didn't get to take your brothers to the room this year, because of flu restrictions, your father and I got to go up alone. They specifically saved the exact room where you born, so we could have a moment there.

It is hallowed ground to me.

Walking into that room -- Labor & Delivery Room 16 -- is like entering the holiest of churches.. the most peaceful of monasteries.. the most beautiful of cemeteries.

Crossing that threshold takes my breath away every time. It is the air you so powerfully and unexpectedly breathed.

I want to crumble to my knees at the weight of it. But I feel like you're keeping me standing. Like you're holding me together. It is the same way you gave me strength when I had to say goodbye to you.

But make no mistake.. I cried for you today. Without your brothers in the room to distract my attention, the memories came like snapshots. Like a Polaroid spitting out images that would start blurry and then come into focus.

My chin would quiver and I couldn't stop it.

But I didn't crumble.

I took all those Polaroids and added them to album I visit every so often -- tucked safely away in my heart.

They won't get lost there.

So, happy birthday.
Goodnight.
And goodbye for now.

Thank you, as always, for making me a mother, first.. and a better person, second.
You changed me.
You changed the world.

And a thank you to the staff at IU Methodist that allowed us to come and make our donation, even on a Saturday and in the midst of a flu restriction. We are grateful they allow us to celebrate our babies every year.

And lastly, thank you to the donors. It wouldn't be possible to touch so many families, in the legacy of our children, without your help each and every year. <3

The Fundraiser

So.. We've finally decided to ask for help.

Sort of.

I decided to set up an online fundraiser. Our 'goal' is $15,000.. which is enough for around 5 months of injections, or one round of invitro. Yes, quite unlikely that we'd raise that much.. unless I have relatives with money I don't know about. ;)

But even if we could get a few thousand, that would pay for a month of injections. In other words, anything helps.

And I started thinking about how I have over 500 Facebook friends. My husband has several hundred. If every person donated $5, we'd be well on our way.

The reasoning for doing it now, is pretty simple. We're asking that family, friends, and coworkers consider making a donation instead of sending us a greeting card, buying me a drink on my birthday, or giving us a Starbucks giftcard for Christmas. We just don't need any of that stuff.. and the possible gift of conceiving is far more important.

We also recognize that this is a hard time for a lot of folks. We're in no way demanding or expecting people to donate. We just wanted people to know that this is our priority. If you want to give us anything, for any reason, this is our preference right now.

If you want to donate, just follow this link: Our Little Wish

You can donate any amount. Even just $1. And surely, there are 15,000 people in this world that would give us a dollar if they knew our story.

So, whether you donate or not.. PLEASE share this with others. Post a link on Facebook, Twitter, your blog, etc. The more people we reach, the better.

Thank you!