Wednesday, April 21, 2010


It's hours before I need to be up, but I'm wide awake. I keep picturing you. I wonder what you would look like? Who would you be?

We're doing family photos tomorrow. At the park where I know you would have loved to play. Only they won't really be family photos because the entire family is not there. You're not there.

Daddy and I will hold a bear in place of you. We will smile and laugh, but inside our hearts will be heavy. It's odd to miss someone so much you only knew for a short time, but we do. We miss you so much that sometimes we cry. Sometimes we argue because we can't express how we are feeling in a better way. Sometimes we push the feelings down so we can go on with our day without the constant, gut-wrenching pain that will be with us forever.

I hope you know how important and how loved you are. Everything we do, we do for you. I'm finishing school next month and that's all because of you. I started when I knew you were coming, I persevered when you left and I will finish because that's what you would want and I want to make you proud.

I miss you so much, Caleb. I'm so sorry I failed you and I'm so sorry you're not here today. If I could trade my life for yours, I would in a second. I wish you could be here for family photos. I wish you could be a big cousin to Xander. I wish you could be there when I earn that degree that was inspired by you! I wish I could hold you, see you, kiss you, and hear you call me "mommy.”

Instead, I will hold a bear that doesn’t compare. I will look at the few pictures I have that will never be enough. I will kiss the little jar of ashes holding what's left. And I will lay awake at night and imagine what you would have become.

Sunday, April 11, 2010

Bad Blogger

I'm such a bad blogger. I started this blog way back when to remember Caleb and to document our journey of love, loss, and trying to start a family. I thought writing about all of these things would give me an outlet to express my feelings instead of my typical SOP, which involves keeping everything inside and then eating an entire carton of ice cream. Hey, don't knock it til you try it.

But days and weeks pass without me posting. I have things I want to share. Doctor’s appointments, failed attempts, births, deaths, nightmares...but I don't. I need to though. I can feel the weight of so many things resting on my shoulders and I need to write about it.

I have this weird habit. I make lists. When things are bothering me I make a list of what they are and then I start with the first item and try to figure out a way to fix it. You'll find these little pieces of paper strewn about my house with things like weight, job, and haircut written on them. I guess all that to say I like to keep track of my feelings otherwise I feel like they will overtake me. Emotions are crazy and unpredictable (2 things I don't really care much for) and making those little lists and keeping this blog are the only things helping me to understand mine.

So I'll start here...
My sister had her baby.

I was in the delivery room when he was born. It was probably one of the most amazing things I have ever witnessed. I don't like the expression that people use to describe this situation "I was there when his life began", because that's not true. A child's life begins at conception. Caleb was alive inside of me and just because he wasn't born alive, doesn't mean that his life never started.

Anyway, the birth was amazing and holding my nephew for the first time was unbelievable. My sister was in labor for a little over 12 hours before she started pushing. During that time, she had three different nurses check on her. The first 2 asked me if I had any children, so I told them about Caleb. I felt bad each time I brought him up, as if I was casting a gray cloud over my sister's exciting day. I decided after the second time to stop mentioning him.

When the third nurse asked me if I had any children I simply replied "no.” My sister, 10 cm dilated stopped the nurse and said, "That's not true. She has a son and his name is Caleb, but he passed away." I still get choked up thinking about that. I don't think my sister understood how much that meant to me. On the brink of giving birth to her baby, she stopped and remembered the one I'm missing so much. No gray clouds, just love.

Having a baby around (I have visited with him 10 out of his 12 days) has been an eye opening experience. It has definitely confirmed what Brandon and I already knew about our desire to have children. Before he was born, I thought my nephew would make me sad. I thought he would remind me of what I don't have. I was so wrong. Having him around reminds me of what I'm working for. The struggles that I face now are so insignificant compared to the joy that a baby will bring to our lives.

My wonderful husband, who usually doesn't have too much to say, summed it up best: "Nothing else will matter once we have our baby."