News

Joel's "day" went well, if you can say that.  We watched some videos, we went to his grave and put up a new wind chime.  We cried.  And in the evening, a few close friends came by to pray and sing with us.  It was a good way to spend a day.

The hardest moment, which surprised me, came that night as I got into bed.  At that moment, I felt as if it were just happening, that first night of climbing into bed without Joel there with us.  The overwhelming sense of loss, of missing his presence there with us in the room... I wondered how I would fall asleep.  And remembered back to the day he died and wondered in amazement that I had indeed been able to fall asleep that night, and the nights after.  But I did.  And on that anniversary night I did fall asleep too, after I mourned a bit more the son that is missing...

And now I have some news to share.  Something that Steve and I have been thinking about, and praying about, and working through for quite a while now.  We have decided that we will try for another baby.

Sometimes people refer to this as "playing the baby lottery."  Taking a "chance" that our child will not be healthy.  Well, I understand what they mean.  Steve and I would both very, very much like to have a healthy child.

But I have decided, for me, that "baby lottery" doesn't apply.  It's only a lottery if you can lose.  :)  I write this with caution.  I don't want to make anyone else feel badly or hurt them because trying for another baby when you have lost a child, or have one that is ill, well, it is a painful topic.

I know.  I have gone all the way from "I'd never choose to have another pregnancy that would risk a PBD" to now saying that I will be...happy? to have another one.  I understand the pain involved in this.  Well, honestly, there is still pain involved for me.  I'm hardly going to be escaping any pain if we get pregnant with a child who is terminally ill.

It has been an interesting progression in my own heart and mind to reach this choice.  I realized that I did truly believe in my heart that Joel's life had been mostly happy.  That his life was a huge blessing to me was never a doubt, but in spite of the sickness and suffering, I am sure he was happy to live.  And as I truly believe that he is now safely, joyfully, in heaven with God...well, how was it not worth it?

Then it was Caeden holding me back.  I just thought "How could I ask Caeden to have another sick sibling?"  But as time has gone on, I have changed my thinking on that as well.  I won't bore you with all the details, indeed, some of it is hard to explain... it's so "instinctive," but I just felt that perhaps in the end what was important was not whether or not he had a sibling either healthy or ill, but more how his parents parented him, and what place God has in our home.

And then, when those two reasons were out of the way... well, then it really hit me.  I was afraid.  Very afraid.  I realized that I (me personally) had no reason not to have a baby... other than the fact that having another dying child scared the poop out of me.  In a sense, it still does.  I hope I have never given the impression that loving and caring for a sick and dying person is easy in any way. 

But I remembered that I didn't do it in my own strength the first time.  I had lots of help from friends and family.  But most of all, I had help from God.  "The Lord is my Helper, I will not be afraid..."

And I thought about it.  Which was the option I truly wanted the least?  There are three things that could happen.  1. we could have a healthy child (yes, my favorite option)  2. we could have another child with a PBD, or 3. we would have no baby at all.  And I realized that option 3 was the one I LEAST wanted.

Now you might be wondering what happened to the adoption option?  Well, it is on the side burner for now.  We will see.  Right now, we can not afford a private adoption which is the most likely way to adopt a baby.  Going through "the state," well, chances of a baby are pretty slim, this year there were only 4 adoptions of children under a year old in my province.

And when it came to adopting an older child... it's a lot of explanation as well, so let me just say that for our family as a whole, at this time, it just is not the right choice.  Things can change, of course.  But adopting an older child can be pretty challenging.  I have seen that in real life so to speak.  And we are not ready for that at this time, and there is no guarantee we will ever be.

So when I realized that if it were to go on being just Steve, Caeden and I... well... that I think 10 years from now I would regret that we didn't try to add another child to our family... when I realized that I would rather love a child, care for a child, stress over a child, hurt and sorrow over a child, and lose that child, then not have that baby at all...

it just seemed like the right choice would be to try for a baby and leave it in God's hands.

I can't really lose.  If we have a healthy baby - I will be ecstatic.  If we have a baby with PBD, you may still congratulate me, because I am going to enjoy every precious moment I can.  There will be tears in my eyes, and they will be of both sorrow and joy.  And if we have no baby at all, then we will wait on God and see if at a later date another option for growing our family opens up.  In any case, I will go on learning to do what I am learning to do... trust in the Lord God Almighty.

I wanted to share that here.  I am asking family and friends on board with this, because I may be sad if there is no baby and I want to be able to share that sadness openly.  And of course, if there is a sick baby, I am hoping that there will be people who will still support us, even if we have choosen this.  I don't ask because I think people are in any way obligated to support us.  You are not.  I just hope that you want to.  :)

Plan for March 23rd.

March 23rd is almost here.  There has been a lot of emotion in the last couple weeks, and I have been very, very tired.

But I am ok.  Or maybe even I am good.  There are things much worse than being emotional and tired. 

I think I have decided what I'd like to do on Friday, and Steve has concurred with his usual "sounds good."  I think he thinks he is doing everything to help me, and I think that it will actually be good for him too.  :)  Thus is a good marriage made, right?

Steve's work has graciously, very graciously, allowed him the day off work.  Normal that particular day is "don't even ask, don't even think of asking" for it, but he has been treated very graciously and given the day off with pay, which was unexpected.

So we will take it easy and rest.  We will go to Joel's grave, and bring out with us a lovely new hummingbird wind chime.  And we will clean it up and fix it up.

On Friday night I have invited our church family to come over for an evening of singing and prayer.  It's a special way to remember Joel, because they came to sing to him twice before.  It is also something I'd like to do, because we will sing praise and thanks songs to God, and I would like to spend that evening just thanking God for giving me my son.  It wasn't long enough for me, but also every single day was a gift, and I am very grateful.

And we will have a prayer time too.  A special prayer time, to pray for all of the "Joel people."  Those are my special people, whom I met because of Joel.  They include medical people, and respite people and the families of other children with Joel's condition.  So if you are one of those people, we'll be thinking of you on Friday night!

I really couldn't think of a better way to spend the evening of March 23rd than thanking God and praying for people that God brought us to love, through Joel's beautiful life.

P.S.  If any of you would like to join me and my church family on Friday, you would also be welcome.  Just give me a call, so that I know who I am expecting.  :)

Various and Sundry.

This is a bunch of unrelated stuff put together into a blog because I'm not going to the "trouble" of a bunch of three line blogs... :)  If that makes sense.

So,  two words for any would be quilters out there: rotary cutter.  Wish I had realized how important one of those can be in making your quilt exact.  So now I have bit of a problem which I will have to fix.  I have a square pattern I bought with an outside measured for large squares and an inside measured for 4 smaller squares to make up the larger.  Problem is, without a rotary cutter, when you measure with a fabric pencil the outside measure is just a tad bigger and the inside measure is just a tad smaller...  But no matter.  I'll figure it out.  And get a rotary cutter...

Oh, and in answer to the question of if the quilt is to hang on the wall: No.  I already have pictures of Joel on the wall, including a lovely sketch done by Megan Benson (who has a business doing this if anyone is interested.  I think I put the link up somewhere in a previous post?).  I also have Joel's lovely wooden box sitting in my living room in exactly the spot where his playpen used to be. 

So yeah, nope, the quilt is not "on exhibit," the quilt is for me, just me.  Oh, you can see it if you come over.  I'll show it to you.  I mean that the quilt is a hands on tactile way to remember Joel.  Because I can feel the clothing in my hands...  it's not the same as feeling it when Joel was wearing it, but it is something, anyway.  So it is going to be in a place where I can feel it and cuddle it to my heart's content.

Then there is Caeden.  He's doing really, really well.  He loves numbers and is learning to add one and two to the numbers 1 -10.  And he is learning his alphabet and already knows some of the sounds of the letters quite well.  He'll be more than ready for Kindergarten in the fall, even if I won't.

He is also not cuddly anymore.  This makes me sad, even though I know it is really sort of his "true nature" and a sign that he feels secure once again...  He never was a cuddly baby at all.  Seriously, not at all.  He was an affectionate toddler, he'd come for a quick hug, but he didn't cuddle...

After Joel died, that all changed.  Each morning we'd have a cuddle on the couch.  He wanted to cuddle lots and lots.  I enjoyed that.  It was a new experience for me, and for him.  Now, he's been moving away from that.  Once again, he is affectionate, but his affection is quicksilver and brief.  He likes what is traditionally more "boy" type cuddling.  You know.  Chasing and wrestling and tickling...  And I know, in a sense, that it is a "good" sign for him.

It is doubly sad for me, though, in that Joel was always my cuddle-muffin.  He loved to snuggle, particularly with mommy.  He'd be face out from Steve's lap, playing.  But when I took him, he'd turn in and snuggle up.  So it was nice, for awhile, to suddenly have Caeden want to cuddle up.  Now I miss both cuddling Joel and Caeden... life is like that sometimes.

Joel's "deathaversary" is coming up soon.  I'm still not sure about that day or what I want to do on it, how it will feel for us, whether alone is better or not...  It's kinda hard to really know.  For one thing, this is, I am so glad to tell you, the first real "deathaversary" I have ever had to keep.  So it's kind of a big unknown. 

 And just like your wedding anniversary, you can ask a bunch of other people what they did, it might give you an idea, but it really doesn't inform your decision much, other than listing options you might have otherwise been unaware of.  And of course, just like a wedding anniversary, it will also change over time.  What you do for your first wedding anniversary is usually quite different from what you do for your 25th anniversary, thought the constant usually is that you celebrate it each year.  So, the one year after Joel's death day is kinda like that.  If you think of it like a wedding anniversary, only really sad instead of (hopefully) happy,  maybe it will help you understand how I'll never forget that day each year, but it might change over time...

I am going to admit that I have been "feeling" it coming though.  I have notice less motivation and more tiredness creeping up on me.  I know there is quite a bit of pain and sadness growing in me.  Which seems odd to me to say, because I hadn't really ever NOT had some pain and sadness.  But I know it is growing because I know the need to grieve is growing.  And one of these days I'm going to need to sit down and watch some videos and read over the blogs...

I know it is a bit hard for people to remember this.  I can understand that and I don't blame them.  That is why I just keep reminding you.  If you wonder why I keep saying "Well, in 4 weeks it is the day Joel died" or "I'm not sure how I'll be feeling then," etc, etc, it is just that I really am making sure that you don't (as I would and do) forget that day is coming and it is a heavy and meaningful day.  That day is "fully loaded."  I just want to make sure that if you phone on March 22nd and I start bawling, you don't get off the phone and later kick yourself "Oh, tomorrow is THAT day, I totally forgot."  I know some of you are super good with dates.  But some of us (like me) are not.

Last of all, I wanted to apologize for how silly I am!  I mentioned a blog or two ago that I had started a new blog, and then I NEVER TOLD YOU THE NAME!!  Silly me!  The blog is called "Treasure in Heaven" and yeah, you can see the title of a post there "Initial Thoughts about Postmodernism" and all I can say is: WHATEVER possessed me to title it THAT???!!!??  It is like I was subconsciously thinking "Hey, I don't really want anyone to read this, so how can I best discourage them?"  Yeah.  I'll have to make the titles more cute, witty and generally interesting to trick ya into reading it... ha ha ha.

Seriously, though, I sorta figure that a lot of my readers here will not really go read that blog, because if you read this one, you read it for Joel's story, and my other blog is quite different. 

"Treasure in Heaven" is a place for me to write about things that I have been slowly mulling over for the past year or so.  Many, many things.  Here is a sampling: postmodernism - ha!, reason vs experience, prayer, faith, the emerging/emergent church, authority, mediation/yoga, mysticism, the future, do you get sort of an idea?  And this is all stuff that I have been coming across and thinking about.  I wanted an outlet for my thoughts, a place to organize them, and maybe even to share them with anyone with similar interests of thought.  You are under NO obligation to read that blog, even if you are a friend or relative, though you are VERY welcome in any case.  And it is very possible that some of those topics might interest you and others not so much.  The choice is yours.  :)

I think that is about it.  I hope I didn't forget anything.

Quilt

So, I guess I better put up the promised pictures of the start of the quilt.  I'd like to say I was surprised at how very guilty I felt at cutting up some of Joel's clothes.  He has some clothing items which were beautiful, no stains, barely worn at all, and super good quality.  I felt so bad cutting them up and denying them to another child.

But I did it... After all, I did pass on a lot of his clothes from his first two year of life, and I have flickers of regret for that.  I'm not truly stewing about it, because honestly, how many memory quilts could I make if I had kept it all.  I know that is just silly.  Still, sometimes I sure wish I could look through those clothes again. 

Grief is like that.  It refuses to be satisfied.  It is a restless, complaining customer.  Why?  Well, of course, because the one and only thing that it wants off the menu is out of reach!  So you can't please it at all.  Keep the clothes?  Oh now what do I do with them?  Cut them up?  Feel bad.  Keep em in storage?  What good are they if you never see em.  Give them away to another child?  Oh, now you wish you had them.  I have realised that you can never appease or satisfy grief.  So I try and ignore those voices.

Which is why I did cut up the clothes anyway.  In the tears, there were also lots of smiles, because my son was so beautiful and so sweet and such a blessing.

I'm not a quilter or a sewer or a crafter.  Unless you count words.  I like words.  But I'm not that great at handy-type stuff.  So, this quilt is very much in progress.  Some of the pieces are a bit rough.  No, I'm not really sewing much of it together until all the squares are done.  Because I have no idea where I want things and I'm just going to make it a big puzzle at the end figure it out then what the "picture" is supposed to be. 

But the pictures will give you the idea.  And I have to admit, I love what I have so far.  I love it.  It's not going to be perfect, no.  Some of the clothes even have stains on them.  Part of the charm.  Yes.  I am not perfect, the past was not perfect, life with Joel was not perfect, and this quilt will not be perfect.  But it will be wonderful.  And I'm going to let the imperfections of the quilt just speak that for itself.

New Blog.

No seriously, I didn't mean a new post, I meant a new blog.  As in, I started one.  :)

I've been thinking a lot later (a dangerous past-time, I know) and I wanted to have a place to write about it.  I mean thinking about things that were not specifically about Joel.  And I wanted to keep this blog about the things that this blog has always been about.

So this blog is staying here and I will still be posting though as you can see, it might be more infrequently.

And my new blog is started up so that I can post about the other stuff that has been on my mind and heart. 

Thus I am writing this blog to tell you about my new blog which I will put up a link to on my sidebar.  And tell you please do NOT feel in ANY way obligated to read my new blog.  I know that many (most?  all?) of you read this because you are interested or sharing a similar experience with grief and loss.  And this new blog is really not about that per Se.  You don't owe me anything, in fact, I feel more like I owe you for sharing Joel with me.

So feel free to check out my new blog, and then read it if you are interested or never go there again if you are not.  I mean that!  :)

In fact, I don't expect many readers, and I'm OK with that.  I'm just putting it out there.  Why am I putting it out there if I don't expect many readers?  I needed to?  I felt "led" to?  It was on my heart?  I don't know, but there it is.

I will be putting up a new post soon about the work I have started on Joel's memory quilt.  More later!

Schmice

Did you ever wonder about getting a package that was labelled "Loss?"  I bet you haven't.  But I have.  I've been thinking about how a "doorbell" rang for me long ago and I received a package labelled "Loss."  In fine print there was a note attached that said "This loss package may contain some or all of the following: grief, sorrow, pain, anger, confusion, depression, fear, suffering, self-pity, feelings of worthlessness, sleeplessness, resentment, longing, moodiness, self-preoccupation, loss of memory/forgetfulness, regret, emptiness & aches, etc, etc."

Seeing this label attached, you might think, "Well, this is bad, but at least I know what I am getting into here."  And in a sense, that is good, because otherwise you'd think insanity was part of the package, but now at least you know that you are reacting "normally" to the situation at hand.  Ha ha ha...

Here is what the label does not tell you.  It does not tell you that the form that these "ingredients" come in is living creatures.  It does not tell you that Grief is a cat, as I have already written about.  And it does not tell you about the Schmice.  Yup.  The Schmice.  You heard it right.

Because when I opened up that package, a horde of little rodent-like vermin poured out and dashed away into the nooks, crannies, and dark places of my home.  When I say "a horde" then picture a large box loaded with wee mouse-like creatures, like maybe a hundred of them, and once the box is opened, like Pandora, you just watch them race out helplessly.

So now you share your home with a group of schmice.  They reproduce.  You get rid of them when and as you can.  But full on extermination is not possible, because you live in your house and the toxins needed to do this are harmful to you and your family.  You also need to go on with life.  And so you do so, getting rid of schmice here and there as you can.

As with all rodents, they prefer to come out at night, or in the very quiet and still moments.  When the lights are on and the house is noisy and busy, they stay away.  In fact, as time goes on and the schmice prove harder to get rid of than anyone else seems to have expected, a temptation comes to you.  Which is to just keep the house loud, busy, noisy and bright and ignore the existence of the schmice altogether.  Live and let live as the saying goes.

Of course, the problem is that everyone also needs peace and quiet and rest time.  No one can fill there house with noise all the time and ignore the vermin.  Also, the schmice leave evidence of their passing living by leaving droppings in cupboards and a certain "aroma" in the laundry room. 

Still, the temptation to ignore them is strong...  It is hard to turn down the lights, get quiet and watch schmouse after schmouse pop out it's wee head and scurry about.  To take the time and try to catch them one after one...   It is hard, but necessary too, for the sake of having a good, healthy home.

And people phone from time to time and ask "How things are going?"  Maybe they are asking about the schmice, but they are too polite to directly inquire.  I don't know.  The thing is, most of the time that people do ask in veiled ways about the schmice in my house, they ask at a time when the lights are on, and the house is noisy.  You know I am not talking about my literal house.  I'm talking about my life.  They call when there is activity all around me, or ask when they see me "out and about." 

And in that moment, my mind is far away from the schmice.  In fact, not a schmouse is in sight if I glance around.  Too noisy, to bright, too busy.  Hmmmm..... I'm really not sure what to say.  The schmice are still there I know.  How many of em?  Not sure at this moment.  What seems like a hoard at one moment, in the light of day seems like nothing but a few droppings here and there.  Know what I mean?  Schmice populations are variable and difficult to monitor.

I can just give general answers.  Yes, still got em, thanks for caring enough to ask.  Still know they are there.  Still dealing with them.  That much I can tell you.  And yes, life is still going on, as you can see.

But if you actually REALLY want to know about the schmice, if you really want to KNOW it, not just about it in generalities, then there is only one thing to do.  Come into my house.  Sit down at my table.  We'll turn the lights and noise down.  We'll be quiet and thoughtful for awhile.  And slowly, wee heads will start to pop out.  After a time, the schmice will come out to scamper about.  And it might be a bit uncomfortable.  You might not be too fond of vermin or rodents.

But it will also be real.  You will understand, just for that moment, what a schmice infestation is really like.  You understand some of the true state of my house.  You'll see some of the difficulties in what happens here.  My schmouse problem will not be theoretical or vaguely general anymore.  Maybe a schmouse or two will even scurry over your shoe.  Your understanding will be based on something you have seen for yourself.

In the coming months, the tide of the schmiceschmice.

I'm just letting you know that.  Rodent populations are known to fluctuate and often after a big surge in growth, they suddenly die out and dwindle into a small population.  I'm telling you for a few reasons. 

One is so that you are not unduly alarmed if you see this happen.  How could it not be so?  If you are surprised, it is only because you do not know what those last months of Joel's life were like or how deeply, how deeply the pain went.  There are a lot of schmice there.

Another reason is because it is an invitation for you, if you like, to come over to my house, to sit quietly with some tea and some lights turned down, and be with me while I catch the schmice.  This is not a job for everyone.  I understand that.  This is the sort of invitation I give, believing that the "right" people for the job will be the ones who would respond.

And if know one does respond, then I also know something else.  I know that my God is sufficient for me in the times that other people are not.  I know He will be with me when the schmice come out to play.  And He will be enough, if the schmice scare everyone else away.

Bad Dreams.

It might be time I did some intentional grieving... because this morning I woke up to a bad, bad dream.

Sorry to bore you with the details, but in my dream I had surrendered Joel to the care of Child and Family Services.  They had offered that if caring for Joel was "too much" for me, I could do this, no questions asked.  And so I had done so. (look, it was a dream.  In a dream we all do stuff that we never even would consider in real life)  Now it was a month later, a month since I had seen Joel.  "Oh my goodness!" I said.  "Maybe Joel has died and they didn't even tell me.  Maybe he is sick and I don't know.  Maybe I should see if they will let me visit him."

And then in my dream, grief and longing for my son burst full upon me (along with guilt and regret) and I woke myself up with my own tears.  And that deep, deep pain in my heart.  It was one of those crazy dreams that seems so real that even though I woke up and knew Joel had died, I still had to take a few more seconds to tell myself, "no, no, you never let him go, he DIDN'T die without you there."

It's hard to really explain the awfulness of a dream like this.  Some of you will understand.  Some of you also are good with imagination, you can empathize by thinking of yourself there.

I don't know.  Was it my feelings inside, letting me know that they need to come out, that if I don't deal with the grief, I will feel like I'm somehow in a sense "giving Joel away" because it is too hard to be sad...??  No, I don't hold that dreams have some special meaning, my Id speaking to my Ego, or anything spiritual or whatever.  But sometimes the FEELINGS that come out of them  can be telling.  Sometimes those feelings coming out in our sleep are a good barometer for us to pay attention to, maybe?

So, I am realizing from the deep feelings I woke up with, that I need to be careful to keep being "intentional" in grieving Joel especially in the holiday season.  It is easy to "get busy," to ignore sad things, to be distracted.  But I still miss my son so much.  I still long for him so greatly.  And I need to acknowledge that, because the love for him is always there.  And if I shove the pain aside because I am too busy to deal with it, then deep inside it feels like I'm "giving him up," in a sense, because it's too hard/inconvenient/painful to deal with the loss of him...  But all the love for him is still there inside me.

This might be hard for you who have not lost someone really close, particularly a child, to understand.  I know lots of people who think it is "healthy" to "let go" of the person, to allow yourself to be distracted and try to focus on other things.  Good for you, if you lose someone and find this works.  Personally I can not.  I just find that I have to feel the pain and sadness.  I can't deny the truth.  I miss my son.  I miss him so very much.  That's all I can say.