Wish

I wish you knew how I truly feel.

I wish you knew the day you stopped talking to me because you didn't know what to say... was a day of hurt and confusion.

I wish you knew how I cry myself to sleep every night. Hoping what you once said to me in the moments of friendship were really true.

I wish you knew that I am not a snob. I am climbing an uphill battle of low self-esteem.

I wish you knew that I think of you every day. Wanting to talk to you, but feeling unwelcome.



I do not wish... ever... that you might lose what I have lost.

Never.



You probably won't even read this. You don't even know that I exist.


I wish I had this a year ago to give to you...
http://www.slideshare.net/JOSHFoundation/dos-and-dontsfor-friends-of-bereaved-parents-3995619

Potty Training

We have entered into the world of potty training! Well, it has been awhile, but never seemed to stick. I think we might be getting somewhere this time. Luckily, our daycare provider wants my son to be out of diapers just as much as I do!

The one thing I am having a hard time figuring out is, why is it that he will stay dry all day at daycare, no accidents, until he gets home? He seems to fight me in everything. He wants to sit on the potty but not pull his underwear down? Or he just wants to play in the sink. He likes to drink water out of the cap belonging to his tube of toothpaste. I am very overwhelmed with how to keep his routine going easily back at home. What a lil' stinker he is being.

He has yet to do #2 though. He seems very interested in how the body works. We talked about what happens to our food when we eat it. Now, when we have dinner, he reminds me what is going to happen to the food he is putting into his mouth. It is always good to seize learning opportunities, however, I really dont want a biology lesson at each meal.

Regardless, it makes me laugh. And that is what counts!

Another funny thing Paighton has been doing to cheer me up is singing "I am a little tea pot". We dance to the words and wiggle our bodies together. He makes me laugh. I feel so proud of him for repsonding to the queues in the song; he puts his "handle" up and sticks out his "spout" just at the right time.

I really wish Elijah could be here to join in all of our fun. I bet Paighton would be singing away his little heart and teaching Elijah all about the potty.

If Elijah were here today, he would be 16 months old.

All in a day's work

The one magazine my eyes always scope the room for when entering the waiting lobby of a doctor's clinic is The Reader's Digest. I thoroughly enjoy reading the funny antic's, quotes, and of course, real-life mishaps. I have never subscribed to this magazine, knowingly I would never have "free-time" to read them. It's because of the convenience that I am already at the doctor's office, forced to wait, is when I read them. They brighten my mood.

I wonder if any of my daily life happenings would be "Reader Digest" worthy? Probably not, but according to my husband and a few friends, I certainly know how to cram it all in.

To give you a small recap, I am a full time wife to a very busy 'over-full time' husband, a full time mommy to a very needy, yet stubborn wants-to-be-independent three-year old, a full-time employee, and a part-time college student. Oh, and don't forget the occassional volunteering for certain causes and charities I like to help support when I can. So can my life be any more hectic? No... also forgot to mention, we are selling our house and relocating about 45-minutes away from where we live now. Phew!

Today is the start of week #7 for classes. I have survived my first 2 exams; 82% on one and the other at a 87%. Not bad, but not what I was aiming for. I am one of my worst critics. I was aiming for 95% of better... I was in such a bad mood when I saw that. I can only be upset with one person: Me.

The past two weeks I have been battling a really bad cough as well. I finally went in to the express clinic (per the pleads I kept receiving from my co-workers. Sorry guys!). I was tested for pnemonia and pertussis. No results yet, but at least I departed with a prescription for an antibiotic regardless of the test results. On a side note, the doctor and I sat in the room for a bit laughing and cringing at a giant spider dangling in the window (the other side, otherwise I would NOT have been in that room for long!) about the size of a dried apricot. It was huge! I think it helped to break the ice with the doctor and pull him away from work, and come down to a more humanly level that wasn't so professional. I like those kinds of doctors.

Speaking of doctors, my son has passed his egg allergy! YAAY! First night for dinner, we had french toast. And again later that week... and then waffles, and waffles again... I think he likes maple syrup.

With all the things to do on my plate, I am struggling to find that balance between everything. I want to spend time with my family, but I also want to be #1 in class. I am very competitive and just as failure is not an option, neither is in the middle an option for me. It just will not do. Aside from family and class, I want to accel at work. I have been so tired though. I think this is more due to being sick.

I have, though, been making sure I find enough time for sleep. Family, school and work all are at risk of my monster mood if I am tired. I set myself up to fail if I am sleepy. I am unable to recall on anything from memory if I see dancing pillows and twirly blankets in my head. Ah, the joyful comfort of my temporpedic bed! It is about five years old, but holds me tight just as well.

Thinking back on one of the (many) reasons why I wanted to go back to school and finish my double-major, I remember Elijah being just that. He is my motivation pushing me to become better in all things I know. So with that said... I find myself becoming sluggish. I am thinking about him in ways I shouldnt. I am finding myself sad again. Feeling alone and forgotten about.

Facebook should be the last place to vent about something (or should this blog be as well?), but my sister had posted a very understandle vent about her miscarriage less than a year ago. She was hurt, that at a first glance of a moment to think, our mother had counted off she has four grandchildren. She left off my sister's miscarriage...

Yes, I would be hurt too. But what I think my sister, very young sister, forgets as well, is she never talks about it. It was my persistent questions to our father that gave way to what happened. He didnt want to tell; but knew that if he didnt, she never would.

I wish she would have told me. I would have acted completlely different had I known. Even after I knew, when the topic is never brought up, I assume it's not supposed to be. I try to respect space and privacy. Same goes for another person who has had hard feelings towards me, which I am assuming stems for her own hurt of losing a baby. Maybe I did the wrong thing? Mayve I wasnt there in a way I was meant to be. How am I to know if those who need help never ask for it?

When my other younger cousin miscarried, we texted a lot back and forth; all the while keeping that distance in attempts to stay polite.

I would hope that any of my family or friends who are feeling alone; reach out to someone you can trust, and find some peace. Our problems will never go away, but we can lean on each other and make the walk a bit easier.

I am supposed to be studying right now...

But with all these thoughts and feelings circulating through my head, who can study? Not me. I am just counting down the minutes to when my husband walks through that door with (fingers corssed) a happy preschooler showing off his new letter her learned today.

Can you tell my thoughts are very unorganized today? I can always tell myself when I write as if I am talking to a physical person sitting in front of me. I think its healthy to talk to yourself, to an extent.

I surpass that extent every day. Oops :)

Team Elijah!

Tomorrow my family, friends and I will being walking at the annual Kaila & Grace's Hope and Hearts Run/Walk to benefit and support The Missing Grace Foundation in Coon Rapids, Minnesota!!

We are doing this in memory of our beloved Baby Elijah, and all other babies that had left this world and had gone home early.

I am a bit saddend, of course. I much rather Elijah just be here with me.

Until my day, sweet baby boy... I will hold you in my arms once again. Mommy loves you...

Change of speed

What is my current speed? FAST!

I thought I was busy before, but now I am super busy. Maybe I can take on the label of being a super-mom? Only with the help of my amazing husband am I able to continue to work my full-time job and go to school (part-time, of course).

I feel so blessed that I am able to get back into, college that is. After losing Elijah, I felt like my life was so worthless and pointless. I needed to do something with myself because, frankly, I was becoming a little lazy.

I am taking up two different economics classes: micro and macro. One is online and the other on-campus. They are both with the same professor, which is why I registered for both. I was initially going to just take one class to "get my feet wet", so to speak, but I really wanted one more. So when I saw the second open up, with the same professor, I immediately thought it was a great benefit because I wouldn't have to struggle with different styles and personalities. Just one.

Though the concepts seem simple enough; it's the math I am stumbling over. Which is very odd for me, considering my weird love for math (I kept my college algebra and pre-calc book to work problems out of it for "fun"). Hey! Don't judge me. Maybe I am thinking into it too much. Another thing I think I am digging a hole in on my online discussion boards. I ramble on too much; taking a very simple concept and twist it until it becomes my own. Not to mention it is wrong. I got called out on it; and yes, he did have a valid point, but I had dug myself so far into complexity I was still stubborn in thinking I was right. So I commented back; I am still right (even though I know deep down, I am wrong but can't admit it). Whatever.

My life always moved at the speed of busy. Even though I have added two more plates to my table, I don't feel any more stressed (or so not yet). I am looking forward to the change of priorities. The number one I am going to miss the most though is spending time with my husband and son. Yet, again like I have mentioned before, I am putting myself through all of this to better OUR quality of life. Elijah is not here with me, and I want him to be so much, but he can't. So I have to live the best life I possibly can in honor of his life that had been taken away so soon.

Last week, my husband and I attended a funeral visitation for the youngest person we know (aside from our own Elijah's). His name was Peter; a tiny little teacher. He was 6 years old and ever-so the cutest boy. Many on you who have followed Elijah's story may remember how we came to know him in the way we do. Mary Kellett; founder of Prenatal Partner's for Life. I was so desperate to find anyone who would help save my little boy and Mary was the only one who would listen. In fact, she pushed me to listen. I was in a dark deep world and she helped me to cope. Because of Mary, she put us in touch with Sustaining Grace; who gave us the gift of 3D/4D ultrasound and a teddy to hold his heartbeat.

It was Mary's little boy, Peter, that had passed away. I was so upset, knowing what an amazing woman she is in taking care of her own 11 children and all the families and mothers that come to her for support in their own child loss. She is amazing.

Mary had asked us to stay and speak so that her friends and family could she just exactly what it is that Prenatal Partners for Life actually does. I did... through my tears and nervousness of public speaking... I did. For her.

So in closing, I want all my friends and family, to now turn your prayers towards Mary and her family as they go down their own path of sorrow.

Peter's life was short; but he has already accomplished so much. He gave me the opportunity to know my son, Elijah.

His work is just getting started...

For more information, please visit www.prenatalpartnersforlife.org and www.sustaininggrace.org or visit them on Facebook.

Please consider donating (or sending memorials to Mary) to keep Peter's, Elijah's, and Grace's legacies live on.

Belated

July sure has been the month for birthdays! Phew! How many can I keep up with? If I truly have inherited anything from my grandmother, I sure hope it is her born talent of remember 100+ birthdays in one single year. She must be hiding a Rolodex somewhere; yet if we are taking she will casually mention "oh, did you know it is so-an-so's birthday today?" Yes, grandma. I totally knew that (not).

She sure is one to be inspired by; and not just for her ability to remember birthdays.

This birthday wish tonight is for a particular special birthday; Baby Grace. For those who are unfamiliar with Baby Grace, she is the special someone who sparked the creation of Sustaining Grace (http://www.sustaininggrage.org/) and made it happen so that my family and I could have a free 3D/4D ultrasound of our little Elijah.

Although I did not blog about it on the actual day which was July 24th; it was in my mind constantly. Paighton and I even wished Baby Grace a happy birthday on Sunday. When we were done, he gave "Baby Grace" a hug and kiss. Baby Grace is a teddy bear that he had named. And no, I had nothing to do with it. He did it all on his own. It is a very small off-white teddy bear; his very first actually. It came all the way from Greece and was given to him before he was born by my dear friend Krystle. I have always called it Teddy Greece. About six months ago he started to correct me; "no mommy, Baby Grace". I was confused for a few nights, as we argued about it each time and then it dawn on me. Ah-ha! Baby Grace it is then.

I still catch him alone in his room singing "happy birthday cake" to Elijah and Danica; his two most favorite people to sing to.

Grace's birthday is certainly one for me to be thankful for always. Without her life, I would never have been able to know my little Elijah the way I do today. I would never been able to hear his tiny little heart whenever I want, without the strong little beats of her own heart.

Grace, for that, I thank you.

I thank you for being there for Elijah. I am sure by now you both have pulled up your heavenly shirts to compare belly buttons. I am sure you both have made heavenly mud pies, eaten heavenly worms, and colored all over the Pearly Gates with magic crayons.

To have those images in my mind makes me smile and laugh because I surely know had he done it down here on Earth, this mommy would have panicked. But don't worry, Paighton is doing enough coloring on non-paper items, nude streaking, and eating worms (Ramen noodles) to cover for the both of you. Now he is walking around the house commenting "what the heck?"

I keep telling myself that we as parents have lost our sweet babies so soon for a reason. I think about it everyday, and pretty much every minute of the day also. It consumes me. It leaves me ruminating...

Whatever the reasons are, know that I am glad to have know Elijah and Grace for the short amount of time I was given here on Earth. Maybe God thought that we only needed that amount of time because they were going to make such a big impact. It can take years to develop a relationship or friendship with any one person in order for it to make a huge impact. These two little angels only needed a second. I am thankful for the 27 weeks I was given to carry him within me. I am thankful for the 15 minutes I was given to hold him and the two-plus hours he lived to meet his family.

Although, I certainly could have lived with more time... It wouldn't have hurt any...

So Happy Birthday Baby Grace. May your life accomplish much more and your heart touch many more hearts in the years to come.

With Love Always,

Elijah's Mommy

More cake, please.

The best things in life are, well, whatever makes us happy. Right? Now people can actually get into debates regarding what is the best thing in life; children, family, mocha lattes, laughter, or even money. Depending on who you are, and what is most important to you. Freedom to choose; maybe that's the best thing in life?

I am reminded just now of the movie City of Angels. Now I used to be a huge Nicholas Cage fan, especially when that movie was released, but not so much anymore. However, it is still a really great movie. As sad as it is, I like the scene where Cage's character is waiting along side a little girl unseen as doctors fight furiously to save her life. As he and the little girl walk away to go "home", he asks her what the best part (of life) was. She answered without a tone of doubt in her voice "pajamas". I like pajames too...

Now no matter what we have chosen for ourselves at the moment as the best thing in life (because of course it is always changing from one mood to the next), it is never ending. We as human beings always want more, regardless if it is good or bad. We work because we want more money. We want more money because we want a bigger house, or perhaps more family vacations. We want more family vacations because we want more time with the people we love.

We want more time with people we love because those people will not be here with us forever.

So maybe I was wrong, my best thing in life can come to an end.

Nevertheless, the question is always "more please?". I love hearing my little boy ask "more pweese!" with more of a demanding tone than asking. We are working on it :) Right now I want him to go potty on the big toilet and tootsie rolls are my bribes and his rewards of choice. For some reason he believes the only toilet he can use is the one at daycare. Silly boy.

I wonder if his 3-year old mind (well almost 3, next month!) would be able to understand the question "what's the best part of life?" I would not be surprised if he yelled out tootsie rolls, or perhaps "Nay Nay". He cannot pronounce his own name, which is Paighton, so he calls himself Nay Nay. I have been teaching him to think of himself as perfect. I know that may be a little weird, but it is important to me. Growing up, I had a lot of self esteem issues and was very cruelly teased by some of my classmates. I do not want him to experience what I had to go through, in a Christian school might I add! I ask him once in awhile if he is perfect. He always responds yes. Or if I rephrase the question, asking "who is perfect?" and he slams his tiny little hand on his chest and says "Nay Nay!" with great confidence. I am proud that he loves himself.

My little boy is perfect! Both of them...

Going still along the topic of more, like I had mentioned before that more isn't always a good thing. If you think for a second, somewhere around the world there is at least one baby being born every second. That's a lot of babies. But with life comes, too, death. There is always something about to happen whether death by accident, or death by old age. Neither of which are easy especially for those of us that are left behind trying to find answers of why.

I would like to think that the Circle of Life flowed as such: for every baby that is a born, a very old and well lived adult passes away. The Bible speaks of people with ages well over 100, even more. I'd like to see all people all over be given the chance to have lived a full life. Anything short of 90 I think is too soon. 89 perhaps? Nope, still too soon...

I learned yesterday of a little girl's birthday tomorrow. Another case of Triploidy. Only thing here is she was even more uncommon than my little Elijah. See, back in 1996 Triploidy was not heard of by very many doctors. Even the specialists didn't know much about it. Still to this day, my doctors didn't seem to know much except that fact that Triploidy is life threatening and babies cannot live outside of their mothers' wombs. Most die within; very few make it just in time to say hello. My doctors didn't want anything to do with me. In fact, I feel they tricked me into inducing early. They said I was severely preclamptic and very sick. Sure I didn't feel well, but I didn't think I was that sick. After everything was said and done, a few weeks later I received the doctors' final reports, we had requested this. In it I read "mild preclampsia". It wasn't until half a year later did it hit me, wait... they lied to me! I could have, and would have, continued longer with the pregnancy. I wanted to reach Elijah's due date, or at least get to August. August is a very special month for my family as it is when we got married, bought our first house, and Paighton was born. We even planned Elijah's conception to make his birthday fall somewhere in August.

So tomorrow is a birthday; on July 23rd 1996 a little girl named Sarah Jayne reached her due date; a huge triumph for any Triploidy baby. Sadly she was stillborn on this date, but she still deserves a birthday.

Tomorrow I will teach Paighton to sing "Happy birthday cake Baby Sarah" to honor another small wonder taken too soon but loved forever. He loves singing and most of all he loves birthday cake!

~My son Elijah, You have more friends with you than I know.
Mommy and Daddy loves you...~

Loss from a Distance

Although not close personally; it feels all too close to home. Too close for comfort.

I got word today that a co-worker lost her 3-year old last night. My first emotion was anger. "It's not fair" I said to my manager as she attempted to brace me before an email was to be sent out to our team.

I have followed little Emerson's Caring Bridge site the day I came across it; a week after we found out about Elijah's condition.

In a way, I lived, and cheered on the sidelines, for Elijah through Emerson. He didn't run the race like Emerson did; was never given the chance. I feel like I have failed him for not opting to provide breathing tubes and extreme life saving measures. I was so blinded by medical terms and doctors. I was so numb I couldn't even feel love for myself.

I am going to keep this short. I just really don't have very many words right now.

Please pass and share Emerson's Caring Bridge site and provide as many prayers as one can possibly pray.

www.caringbridge.org/visit/emersonm


"A thousand words cannot bring you back; I know because I tried. And neither can a million tears. I know because I cried." - Author Unknown


Baby Elijah - Mommy thinks of you every day. I miss you....

Happy Birthday Cake

May 31st, 2011 marks the date of a great milestone. A little boy's first birthday.

Usually for most 1-year olds there are gifts and the smashing of a brightly colored cake and a showered burst of air to blow out a single candle; that is if it isn't put out with the grasp of five sticky fingers first.

As I look back on the year, I try to imagine what my house would sound like as I stand in the kitchen cooking dinner for three instead of four. With my soon-to-be 3-ear old, I can't imagine it could get any louder.

My husband and I have gone through a lot in one year, and although most people have told us "it will get better" and "it will only make us stronger", I am not sure we have made it to that point yet. It is easier talking about Elijah, but stronger? Not so sure.

On Saturday, we did have a birthday party for Elijah. We asked our guests to bring a gift that would be donated to an organization called New Beginnings here in St Cloud. Their mission is to help young teen girls who have children or are pregnant. I truly believe in their mission and hope that the girls going through their program understand just how precious the little lives that they hold in their hands really are. I have yet to drop things off; life is so unpredictably busy. I think I may need a personal assistant!

As we prepared Saturday morning for the small birthday party, my toddler knew something special was going on. We do talk to him about Baby Elijah and look at his pictures and his pajamas we have sitting next to the urn. He says "Baby Elijah" so beautifully, it makes my heart melt.

It was very difficult trying to get him down for his afternoon nap; he didn't sleep a wink. I had to bribe him to just lay down and stay in his room without screaming. The bribe? Dairy Queen birthday cake.

Our first guests, my mom and Grandmother Faye arrived. I went into Paighton's room to tell him grandma was here and he could be done with his idea of a 'nap'. He ran full speed down the hallway and into the kitchen yelling "cake". Not so much as a "hello" for any of us. It was a sight to see.

We had the gifts laid out on the table for display next to a photo album, the start of my scrapbook for Elijah, and handmade thank you cards. I got a little choked up when my Grandma Faye hugged me as if she was never going to let go. I hid in my bedroom closet for about a minute or two to blow off some emotions. It was bittersweet to see all these baby items in my kitchen; things that Paighton has grown out of but Elijah would be using right now. I pressed a key on a little piano rattle to hear its quick melody. I pictured a chubby little boy bouncing to its rhythm.

Later in the evening after everyone had gone, I brought out more ice cream cake for a late snack. As we were waiting for Daddy to cut it, Paighton bounced around singing "Happy birthday cake. Happy birthday cake Baby Elijah. Happy birthday cake". I couldn't ask for a better song. I was so impressed and proud of my silly toddler to have remembered not only his version of the words, but Elijah's name. I squeezed him tightly and sang along with him.

I know that my son is not here with me physically, but I am always looking for those signs that he is here with me in spirit. As weird as that may sound to some, I yearn for something of his presence.

This past Memorial weekend I spent most of my time remembering my little boy, whom I have held in my arms for a little over 15 minutes, and the large footprint he has left in my heart. I also remembered other family and friends who I miss very much: friend Jennifer, friend Danica, Grandpa V, cousins Josh and Jhase, and other Baby Angels I have come to know.

"Say not, in grief, that you have gone; but give thanks that you were ours"

Mayo

The past week I have been spending time down at the Mayo clinic in Rochester, Minnesota. I have yet to go again next Monday and Wednesday. Will there be more? I am sure of it.

My time spent there has allowed me to be alone with my own thoughts while sitting between appointments. The days are exhausting, and emotionally trying.

As I sit waiting for my little pager, given to me by the doctor's receptionist, to vibrate I look around the lobby at the masses of other people waiting for their own answers.

I have seen many people walking and being pushed in wheelchairs wearing blue medical masks. I am assuming they either have cancer or some other autoimmune disease that makes them very much at risk of getting sick. I have also seen two little girls with a circular plastic piece and wires coming out of the back of their heads and going down to their ears. Hearing aids of some sort I am assuming.
The one that caught my attention the most: a little baby boy no more than six months of age wearing a feeding tubing running to his nose. My heart sank. His parents? A young couple with endearing looks of love for their baby upon their faces as the daddy struggled with the car seat straps in preparation to board the parking ramp's elevator.

Another; on Thursday after my last appointment, I was in the bathroom washing my hands when a lady walked in with a rush of urgency in her body language. continued to wash and dry as I talked with my cousin. I could hear her crying. I could hear her trying to hold her breath in hope she was being unheard from others. I felt frozen. My cousin inched for the doors, unnoticed by the weeps coming from the stall. I felt as if I couldn't just leave her in there to cry alone; but I did. When I walked out, I did see a woman standing there as if she were waiting for a friend to come out of the bathroom. I felt a small sense of relief knowing the weeping woman was not alone. I noticed as we readied ourselves to leave for home, the bathrooms were near the Breast Center. It dawned on me. She must have just been told moments prior she had cancer.

I wish I would have stayed back to give her a hug at least. But would that have been too much for her at the moment? Or perhaps just plain weird? Let's hope this is a situation for "it's the thought that counts", even though she is completely unaware of my thoughts.

The Mayo is an amazing place. For the most part, the employees, doctors and students finishing up their residencies, are all very pleasant and show they truly care and want to help. However I did have one doctor answer his cell phone and leave the room, twice, without an simple "excuse me". That was a little annoying.

So next week, Monday, I have three tests to complete. One is called a Thermoregulatory Sweat Test. The others are an EMG and Abdominal Fat Aspiration. On Wednesday I have one test called Autonomic Reflex Testing. I am very nervous about the EMG and Fat Aspiration tests. They do not sound pleasant at all.

All of these tests are related to nerves and the ability for my nerves to send messages to my brain; and for my brain to accurately translate those messages being sent. Well that is how I understood it anyways.

To give you a little insight, on Friday, the Neurologist tested parts of my body with two tools to see if I could tell the difference in temperature. One was cold, the other hot. Now this hot is very hot. As hot as a cattle prod, I am assuming of course. He first placed the scorching 'hot plate' as I call it, onto my left cheek and asked me what I felt. Unaware of anything he was about to do, I jumped and yelled out at him, that yes it's very hot and to not do that again. He laughed, certainly because he knew in his own mind he was about to do it again, and again. As he placed the two tools, I could feel the hot and cold, only thing was my legs and feet. Some spots it was just warm, some I did not feel it at all. That would explain why I am able to bathe in near boiling water yet my husband refuses to stick his hand in it.

I do not know why I feel, or don't feel in some circumstances, the way I do. This has been something I have been trying to get answers to for a long time. I just want to feel normal again and have the energy, without the pain of simply standing, to run around with my son. After one day of walking around the Mayo, my feet wouldn't even fit in my shoes. I drove back home shoeless that night.

Now that I am home for the weekend, I have been enjoying time with my little booger. Not the icky kind for your information! My little booger, almost a whole three years old, that reminds me every minute of the day of the fun he is having. He never misses a beat. He tells stories of his grandparents, stories of watering trees outside with daddy, and even reminds me of his bedtime routine making sure nothing is out of place.

This morning I heard him in the kitchen arguing with my husband about his breakfast choices. He kept repeating a two-syllable word neither of us could figure out. He then went on to explain his alien language by pulling my mom's name into the topic. Light bulb!

Last weekend was my nephew's fourth birthday and we had sloppy joes. My son insisted without backing down an inch that we have to go to grandma's for sloppy joes. We came to a compromised and made sloppy joes at home for lunch. He gleamed with joy at each bite. He even disciplined his daddy for making a mess. My husband's joe was very sloppy and kept falling out the bottom of his hamburger bun.

After lunch, we went out to St. Joseph to visit Thomsen's Greenhouse. It was very important for me to attend because there was a woman out there who had started something called "Baby Gardens" in memory of her daughter Libby who's heart had stopped beating at about 30 weeks. She was selling these "Baby Gardens" to pass on the proceeds to March of Dimes. How amazing, I had thought.

When we got there, I didn't see anything right away, so we just meandered looking at the plants. I attempted to get my son to smell some flowers, he just yelled out a big NO! He was more interested in the garden decorations and ornaments; not to mention we had already ignored the fact that it was past naptime.

I eventually found Libby's mom and her Baby Gardens. She had pictures of Libby displayed. As she talked with me, I got a little choked up. I couldn't steer my eyes away from Libby's tiny feet cradled in the hands of her parents. What stopped the flood gates from unleashing everything I have, was a woman from a women's' blog forum. She came up to say hi right as I was about to flee. I am just thankful I was able to pull out of it. I feel like such a dork sometimes, but seriously! I tear up at the smallest things! Sometimes I wonder if I even have a shut-off valve.

So we walked away with two Baby Gardens. One for Libby, and one for my Elijah.

Another thing I have, or will be doing, in honor of my sweet Elijah is going on with my life. Pushing to be greater than I am and to never stop. I do not have an end goal because I do not want to end. I am going back to school for starters. I started a double major in Accounting and Finance before my first son was born. I want to finish this. I do not like the feeling of things left undone. After school, who knows what is next? I want to create the best future for my son and any other children I may have. I want them to be great people.

Every day from now on, I am dedicating anything and all that I do in honor of my family; my husband and my sons.

Nothing else matters except the love we all have for each other. We do not need anything, or anyone, else.

Enough said.