A different Child

I read this and immediately teared up.

It's so true. One day we will explain to our future children where their older brother is. One day they will question why we do the things we do for Aidan. This perfectly describes the emotions.

 

To this baby currently nudging me: Please know, never has a baby been more wanted. Never have I been so determined. Never have I had so much hope. Never ever doubt my love for you. You hold a special piece of my heart that no other child will ever hold. Just as your older brother claimed his. I love you both equally.

 

To Aidan: You sweet boy have taught me so much. You inspire me to the best mom I know how to be. You are missed and loved. I know that you are forever safe and loved. One day I will snuggle you close and whisper all of our stories again.  

 

A Different Child

A different child, people notice

There's a special glow around you.

You grow surrounded by love

Never doubting you are wanted;

Only look at the pride and joy

In your mother and father's eyes.

And if sometimes between the smiles

There's a trace of tears,

One day you'll understand.

You'll understand there was once

another child.

A different child.

Who was in their hopes and dreams.

That child will never outgrow the baby clothes.

That child will never keep them up at night.

In fact, that child will never be any trouble at all....

Except sometimes, in a silent moment,

When mother and father miss so much

That different child.

May hope and love wrap you warmly

And may you learn the lesson forever:

How infinitely precious,

How infinitely fragile is this life on earth.

One day, as a young man or woman

You may see another mother's tears

Another father's silent grief

Then you, and you alone will understand

And offer the greatest comfort.

When all hope seems lost you will tell them

with great compassion:

"I know how you feel. I'm only here because my parents tried again."

PD MacMillan

A quick update: learning to navigate

We are 16 weeks into this pregnancy.

We have had a successful cerclage placement.

Bed rest has begun.

Aidan is going to have a little brother.

The excitement is growing. Hope is blooming.

And yet, there are moments when it just feels a little hard to breathe. Moments that make the days feel heavier.

I miss my first little boy. I miss the things I could be experiencing him. I could be snapping photos, taking him to see Santa for the first time. We could be eagerly waiting what would have been his first Christmas in a perfect world.

But, it’s not a perfect world. At least, it isn’t THAT perfect world.

I carried Aidan and treasured every single second. I had no idea that those were all I would get.

This time around is just completely different. I am still treasuring every kick, every heartbeat. I still love this child with all that I am. But, I am doing these things with the knowledge that I may not get the ending of my dreams.

That is the reality of this new normal I live in. I can still feel all of the happiness and anticipation. However, I also live with the knowledge of what is on the other side.

I am still having a hard time finding the words to describe this part of the journey.

I am so thankful for this new life I can feel fluttering around right this second. At the same time I am so thankful for the life and legacy of his big brother. I think the words are hard to come by because I am afraid to take something away from the other. I love them equally. They are both my boys. One is not mutually exclusive of the other.

I am hoping that with the bed rest the words to explain my heart in these coming months will come. The past year has been written with such detail that I want every year to have those memories written down. I want this child to know his brother as we all know him and at the same time I want to be able to show him how eager and how badly we wanted him to be a part of our lives.

A rainbow in the storm

 

A picture worth a 1,000 words.

 

Today, today I am 12 weeks pregnant with our rainbow baby.

 

Aidan is a big brother. Those words bring me to my knees.

 

So many emotions. More than I am able to express in any sort of sensical way.

 

I am so excited. So happy. Brimming with hope.

I am so scared.

 

What if it happens again? What if something else goes wrong?

 

What if people forget about Aidan?

 

That's the big one. That's the fear I have been afraid to put words too. That's the reason I haven't been able to blog or write much.

 

My excitement is overwhelming. At the same time, my heartaches from missing my little boy. I cannot explain that.

 

I cherish every single day. Even though most of them have been rough physically, I know that they may be all that I have. Aidan taught me that.

 

Every day I think of him and wonder what life would be like if he were here. How would I have managed an infant and the complications that have come along with this pregnancy? And then it hits me, if it weren't for Aidan's life, I most likely would not be sitting here pregnant. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't have Twinkle. There is so much power in this knowledge. There are so many things that I would not know if it hadn't been for Aidan and the journey we are on. Too many to even attempt to list.

 

While there are no guarantees, no promises, I know that this baby is a gift. One that deserves its own excitement of hopes and dreams.

 

I have been unsure of what to say. How to explain how this baby and Aidan are both a part of our family without taking away from the other. And then this moment happened today. A comment was made and it reminded me that it is my job as their mother to make sure they are both treated equally. The only way I can do that is to continue to share our journey together. As a growing family of four.

 

This is my second pregnancy. I have two children. Each deserves to be loved and cherished in their own ways. No matter what tomorrow brings, I am a momma of two. And no one can ever take that away.

On your birthday

                Aidan,

I am at a loss for words. How exactly am I supposed to put into words what these days have meant? They have been so full of memories. There have been tears. There has been laughter. There has been sheer determination.

Most of all, there has been love.

The kind of love that is known to inspire books and movies. A love that takes your breath away and at the same time gives you a reason to live. The love of a mother.

Each day has been a countdown to you. Your birthday.

On this day, one year ago, you changed me. You changed your Daddy. You changed the lives of so many people sweet boy. People who came to see you. Hold you. Kiss you. Snuggle you.

Love you.

On this day, one year ago, you changed everything. And you did it without having ever taken a breath. You are that amazing. You are that powerful. You are my son.

There are so many adjectives I could use to describe the impact you have made in the past year. None seem to compare as much as faith, grace, and love…Holy.

The precious hours I spent with you were the epitome of these things. They are untarnished by the fact that I would not get to take you home with us. They were simply moments spent with you. Moments as a complete family. Moments that will carry me through until I see you again. 

A child’s first birthday is always this big celebration. So many milestones have been and are being reached.

The parents tend to go overboard. Party. Gifts. Cake. Proud moments. Endless pictures. What wouldn’t I give to live in that realm of reality again.

Instead, I am in a car; headed towards a boat. Just your daddy and I. Your first birthday is upon us and yet we live in the world where you are not here. With your birthday comes the harsh reality that we don’t get those things. Instead we get the love of those who love you and understand the overwhelming loss of these days. Others have sympathy.  The ignorance of those who don’t get it and just think it means it’s been a year and we should be “better.” 

I wake up each day with the hope that I will get to say your name. Share your pictures. Be your mom without someone questioning why. So, on this day, a day that is 100 percent about you; about your life; we are celebrating. The fight, the determination, the love, the grace and the faith it has taken to survive each day since. We are rejoicing in the knowledge that we were chosen to be your parents. We are so proud to be your family. We are so grateful that we know where you are. We smile knowing you are safely tucked in the arms of loved ones. Happy. Blissful. Surrounded by the perfection you deserve.

It seems unbelievable that it has already been a year. Yet, this has been the longest, hardest and most defining year of my life.

1 year

12 months

52 weeks

365 days

525948 minutes

31556926 seconds

Each and every one of them has been about you. Because this day is the day you were born. The day your legacy began. The day you did something that no one else has ever done or will ever do again. You made me a mom.

I am so thankful to you. I love you more than I ever knew I could. I miss you with every fiber of my being. I am the proudest Momma. I am heartbroken that I don’t get to watch you grow. I eagerly wait for the day I get to hold you again. I am looking towards the future. Hoping that one day I will be able to tell your little brother or sisters about their amazing big brother and how he is the reason they are here.

 I fell head over heels in love with you one year ago. Every day that love has grown more. I’ll look for you in the waves, stars and peace of this week. Your momma loves you so. Each and every heartbeat I share with you.

Happy Birthday to you, Aidan Thomas. Happy Birthday to you.

Enduring love,

Momma

 

 



Step by Step

A week ago, we recorded an Interview for a local radio station.

Aidan's story was shared. His name was spoken.

Aidan on the Radio

This past week, we were interviewed on a local new station.

Aidan's story was shared. His name was spoken. Aidan's perfect face was shown on live TV.

Aidan on TV

And tonight. Tonight I placed an order. I ordered cards that I hope you will help me distribute.

Aidan's birthday is rapidly approaching. I want it to be big. I want it to be a celebration. I want it to make a difference. I want it to touch people beyond my limited scope. I want complete strangers to be affected by Aidan's life. And from this desire an idea was born:

Aidan's Hope

Our hope is that you will allow us to share Aidan and what he has come to mean to all of us. He has had such an impact in the past year. He has changed everything. We are now hoping that he will change others who do not know him. Let's take the first steps towards literally changing the world. We have been blessed with so many opportunities to share our little boy. I love the idea of sharing him in a way that will have a positive impact for others.

I cannot wait to see how far they go, the good they inspire and the people he brings together.

I have ordered the cards and they should be here next week hopefully. My plan is to get them out to you, so that we can actually kick of Aidan's birthday with the first good deeds. I cannot think of a more special way to celebrate the day that changed everything.



“Faithful friends are gifts from heaven: Whoever finds one has found a treasure.”

The past year has been the biggest, hardest, most emotional year of my life.

Surviving it has not been easy. Living it has been even harder.

Thankfully, in the same breath, I have been blessed with the people in my life. People who have always been there, people who were on the outskirts, but stepped up when I needed it, and the people who entered my life just because of Aidan.

Among these are my Sew Sisters. My beloved sisters who have a passion for making a purpose. Women who have walked this same path. Women who encourage one another to take that next chance, step or breath.

We stand up for one another.

And in this past week, we have had to stand up, lean on, bow down, and just hang on.

One of our sisters has left this earthly life.

In a split second that just hasn't ended yet, it all changed.

To say that our hearts are broken, is an understatement. A piece of our world is gone.

I can't even find the words to describe the importance she played to all of us. All I have is what she meant to me. I'm the newbie to the group. I'm the one still in the freshness of grief. I'm the one who can't sew! Treasure took me in. She enveloped me in her light. She allowed me to laugh until I cried and then cry until I laughed. She called. She texted. She believed in me.

She was this pillar of strength. She stood tall for all of the moms. She loved with every fiber of her being.

I remember our conversations with such clarity. One in particular. She asked me about Aidan. She wanted to know his story. And in the process, she answered questions I didn't even know I had. She gave me so much peace and comfort. And at the end, as we both cried and smiled and oohed and aahed. She hugged me and whispered, "You are so brave. You have so much courage. You and your little boy are going to make a difference. Keep talking, sharing, writing."

It has taken me a week to be able to even attempt to do any of these things. I was so afraid I would lose her voice. God provides in all things. He allowed for her to film a testimony about Holy Sews. The why and the importance of what we do. Now, I will always have a piece of her. The world will always be able to hear her determination, compassion, grace and love.

38 years ago, her momma gave her name. A name most would never be able to live up to. She embodied her name. Every moment of every day. Her sister, described watching all of us grieve just as hard as she is. The awe and the wonder that she had touched so many, so deeply. It is just who she is. Not was, but is. She left such an imprint on this world.

She was, is and forever will be, Treasure.

"The place where your treasure is, is the place you will most want to be, and end up being."

                                                                        Luke 12:34

Roots

I've been meaning to write this for over a week.

The past week is a post all of its own.

One step at a time.

A couple of Saturday's ago, we worked outside in the extreme August heat. We dug, soaked, dug, soaked, dug, soaked and so on. All day long.

And then, finally we achieved the ultimate goal. We planted five trees. Trees donated in Aidan's memory. Trees planted in our home town.

Evan and I literally grew up in the same town without knowing one another. We knew a ton of the same people, but for some reason our paths never crossed until that fateful day in 2006. Still, our roots are firmly planted in Cabot, AR.

And now, so are Aidan's. We planted five trees surrounding the community pond there in Cabot. We did this on Aidan's 11 month celebration. We picnicked afterwards and sent Aidan some balloons.

All day, it just kept hitting me. This is a permanent part of his legacy. One day those trees will stand taller than any of us. We will literally watch them grow. It brought me such peace. Over the past 11 months Aidan's life has had an impact. And now I will have a physical attachment I will get to watch grow. The blessings are always hidden. Their importance always surprising. This one came in the form of trees. Watching his family work in the heat, sacrifice their time, sweat in this summer heat. Having friends who are willing to come and be there with us to honor Aidan. Having just a few moments that allow us to be proud parents. All because of five trees.