These last few weeks have been incredibly disappointing to me. By the time I wake up Monday morning, Gloom and Doom have arrived, not even giving me a chance to start off on the right foot. Each week I try to break myself free from it and it works, but only briefly. But last Friday, when I was officially diagnosed with strep throat, I thought, “that’s it, I give up.”

And not that I was giving up and hiding underneath the covers and crying and pouting, I was just giving up that I had to accept the bad with the good. I’m always to willing to open my arms up to great opportunities and warm hugs, beautiful things and good health. Well, I can open my arms to a little bit of pain, too.

Lately, there have been so many thunderstorms in my life and even during them, I’d know they were purposeful, I always believe in the brightness shining brighter after the darkness (and even during the darkness.) I just thought maybe this time, I need to stop. Sit in bed, do not work or write or email, allow Brian to bring me Tylenol and rub my feet, browse on Pinterest, eat ice cream, doze off, just accept that sometimes life seems really hard and you feel beat up.

I’m okay with that. Because at least I have the chance to get back up, to let the sun warm my shoulders and to wake up and do everything I can to at least attempt to kick ass every single day.

Sometimes I can’t. Sometimes I won’t. But sometimes, I will. And that will always leave me grateful because at least I have the choice.

Team James and Jake raised over $6,000. I am amazing and humbled and so thankful to those of you who supported us this year. (and always!) Oh! I was also quoted here. I LOVE that she called me “happy.”

Here are some photos from the day!

That number happens to belong to Sarah at Team Trader Mom. Sarah, can you contact me to claim your prize? foldinglaundry (at) gmail (dot) com

A serious thank you goes out to all of you who have helped promote June Afternoons. A reminder that our walk is this Saturday (we are less than $1,000 from our $5,000 goal!) and if you’d like to order a print (or two), please do not hesitate! I am sending out my first batch of orders tomorrow! Please continue to promote, blog, facebook, tweet! You all never cease to amaze me. (ever.)

We have raised over $500 from this shop alone which amazes me and fills me with love and hope. (which is nice because otherwise, I’m a stuffed up, snotty, chest hurting, ears throbbing, headache-y, sleepy mess.)

(don’t worry, I’ll wash and sanitize my hands and lips before shipping, I promise!)

Also: be on the lookout, more images are going up today!

Again, a special shout out to Josie at Summit Avenue Design for donating this logo and huge thank you to the other photographers involved in this project:

Madeline Bea Photography (amazingly talented photographer!), Tracey Clark (of Shutter Sisters!), Aimee Giese (Greeblemonkey!), Kristen Doyle (Dine and Dish!), Emily Freeman (Chatting at the Sky!), Keli Hoskins (Kidnapped by Suburbia!), Mishelle Lane (Secret Agenta Mama), Lisa Leonard (THE Lisa Leonard) and Casey Mullins (Moosh in Indy!).

I am so happy and excited to share with you this amazing project I’ve been working on. I can’t believe that at this time last week, I hadn’t even birthed the idea yet, and here it is, in my hands. ready for me to hand it to you.

Quick, go grab a cup of coffee, some tea or an ice cold beer. (You know, if you’re on that side of the globe right now.)

Last week, I went to my friends in the blogging community, who I know take awesome photographs. These are people who I SEEK when I need an added dose of inspiration. I asked these friends if they’d be willing to help me on a special project, one that benefits Team James and Jake and the March of Dimes and oh my goodness, they replied with a big, deafening YES and here I am, ready to tell you ALL about it.

These amazing people took time from their busy schedules and donated some of their favorite work for me to sell the prints in my new shop, June Afternoons.

June Afternoons is an Etsy shop that, until May 31, 2011, will be donating all of the proceeds from the sale of each print, gallery wrap or book to the March for Babies, March of Dimes in honor our sons, James and Jake. Right now, we are halfway to our team goal of $5,000!

When you place your order, I will personally have it professionally printed from my favorite printer and ship it from my home to yours. (I’ll probably kiss the package before sending it off, but don’t let that scare you, I just can’t help myself.)

First I want to thank the photographers involved in this project:

Madeline Bea Photography (amazingly talented photographer!), Tracey Clark (of Shutter Sisters!), Aimee Giese (Greeblemonkey!), Kristen Doyle (Dine and Dish!), Emily Freeman (Chatting at the Sky!), Keli Hoskins (Kidnapped by Suburbia!), Mishelle Lane (Secret Agenta Mama), Lisa Leonard (THE Lisa Leonard), Casey Mullins (Moosh in Indy!) and well, me.

I’d like to thank my friend, Adam, for using his unbelievably beautiful words to help write about the shop on the intro page. I don’t understand how people can write the way that he does but he does and it’s captivating and amazing and I shouldn’t question his talent, (but I can’t help it.)

I also want to give a seriously HUGE thanks to the owner of the Etsy Shop, Josie at Summit Avenue for DONATING the logo for June Afternoons. I could not have dreamed up a more perfect logo for this project and she donated it. You must, must, must check out her work because she is so talented!

I hope you’ll head over, bookmark the shop, favorite the shop on Etsy, share the link on Facebook directly from the shop, tell your friends, family, co-workers, postal carrier, the Easter Bunny at the mall, anyone you know about this shop. This shop is more than just an Etsy shop, it’s love, hope, encouragement and sweetness put together for the sake of charity!

Will you help spread the word? I have a giveaway for you, if you do.

See this ad?

Add it to your blog and come back and leave your link in the linky list below and you’ll be entered to win a $50 gift card to Anthropologie. (courtesy of Beth Fletcher Photography.) You know how much I love Anthro, right?

You have until Monday, April 25th, 2011 to enter your link into Mister Linky. The winner will be chosen randomly on Tuesday, April 26th. (I’ll be checking the links, so don’t feel saucy and think you can get one past me!)

Please head over to June Afternoons and tell me what you think! Thank you, in advance, for your support!

She brought the clothes that they had been wearing back into the hospital room. The smallest dresses and hats you have ever seen. It’s quite silly really but I guess, as they slept near me the night before, they did help me believe the pieces of clothing were helping to warm their chilled bodies.

The nurse asked me if I wanted her to wash the clothes, they needed to be washed because they were soiled with blood. I said no. She said “are you sure? I don’t mind.”

I looked at her. The words barely able to escape my mouth “it makes me feel like their Mom if I can wash them.”

Tears. Falling.
Shoulders. Shaking.

She stopped and walked hurriedly towards me, “I have to hug you.”

And for that brief ridiculous moment a few days after returning home from the hospital, I did, I felt like I was their Mom. I washed, dried, folded and smelled their laundry. I smelled them for days and days until finally, I put them away.

This? This is why I do the March for Babies. Because it makes me feel like their Mom. I can rally my teammates (both old and new), design and order shirts, send out emails, raise money, take photos, walk…for my sons. I have no further laundry of theirs to do, I can’t hold them tight after a bad dream, I can’t make five different types of food for them for breakfast because they’ve decided to be picky, I can’t teach them to tie their shoes, I can’t chase after them at family functions.

But I CAN do this. For them.

And I CAN do this for other Mommies, so they don’t have to.

I can’t really express to you what it feels like when someone donates to Team James and Jake. It’s more than excitement. It’s love and passion. It fills my body with hope and joy. My soul smiles and cries all at once. I’m reminded again and again how wonderful it is that they were in our lives, for even such a small amount of time. We are so blessed.

It’s not about the amount, it’s about the thought, it’s about the support. I promise you this.

To donate.

Four days later, I’d deliver them, stillborn and hold them in my arms and let go of them after spending a quiet night with them by my side.

So many dreams died during that time, yet so many dreams were born since then, too.

We all know this story of us, of them. I’ve told it so many times on this blog. There’s a new word on my mind, the words is presently.

I’m trying to figure out where I’m at presently. I feel great peace. I feel great love and passion. I still feel and see the signs that they send to us. Presently, I’m still paying attention and accepting them as they come to us. This past Sunday the mass intention was for our James and Jake. Coincidentally, just moments after saying their names, they played a song that Brian and I chose for their service.

Presently, I still miss them, the idea of them, I still wonder why, I still mourn that they never had the chance to live this great life, to feel the sun on their shoulders, to hear their siblings’ laughter, to taste the sweetness of a watermelon, the warmth of hot chocolate, to feel their Mama’s touch. But sometimes, I just think they’re part of the sun and their siblings’ laughter and every other beautiful thing that this life has to offer. So, maybe (hopefully) they’re not missing it at all.

This year, on February 26th, I won’t be by Brian’s side, I’ll be with Eli except I’ll be at photography workshop and he’ll be with my sister and my Mom. And rather than be surrounded by my family, oddly enough, I’ll be surrounded by sweet smelling, innocent little newborns. But this, this doesn’t add to my sadness. This fills me with great hope. What a tide I’ve turned that in three years, I’ve gone from great despair and loss to be able to witness the sweetness of life.

And to not only be able to witness it,

but I’ll be able to capture it.

Presently, I’m good. And even though that could change in a minute, in a day or in two weeks, I am so very grateful for the now and the goodness that resides in it.

I literally panicked. I looked at my tiny baby on the floor and thought “how could we do this to her? We are just getting to know her and now this?”

We are not ready for this.

I grabbed a Diet Coke, jumped in the car and drove to the nearest drug store for another test. As I drank my Diet Coke, I cried knowing that it was the last one I’d have for a very, long time. (I thought I was crying about the Diet Coke but in reality, I was crying because I wasn’t in control of this, it wasn’t in our plan and okay, maybe it was a little bit about Diet Coke.)

Less than a year after Anna was born, I had become a stay-at-home Mom and Noah arrived. A ten pound baby boy who spent the first two weeks in NICU, while we had a one year old, who couldn’t even walk, at home.

That first year was so difficult. Who am I kidding? Those first two years were so difficult. I put my interests aside and did my best to focus all of my attention on these two children. When Brian came home from work, I would run all of my errands just to get away. For two years, I was the only one who mowed the lawn because staying home with these two babies all day long, it was a tough job and mowing the lawn was a break for me.

And now, my goodness. We have Noah. This gift, this treasure that melts my heart, who makes me think, who fills my motherly soul with so much pride that I’m not sure I can hold much more. (but I can.)

People would ask how I do it…my response? I just do.

Four years after Noah was born, I laid on the ultrasound table, Anna and Noah in the dark room with me, I watched as the ultrasound tech failed to see two beating hearts that were thriving just two weeks before. These two hearts that we already loved so much. The four of us, Anna, Noah, Brian and I would sit and dream about all of the moments, the diapers, the sleeplessness, the crazy, the crying, the joy.

And in this one horrifying moment. It was gone.

Brian walked into the room, I cried into his chest.

“I can not do this.” and I meant it. I physically and emotionally could not handle this. I wanted to die. or I just wanted the pain to stop and if that meant dying than so be it because that pain…

hurts. so. much.

We did it. We were sidelined from life. We were the focus yet we were removed. Life was quiet after that, so simple. The little joys were gigantic joys; like butterflies and sunshine falling on my shoulders, sitting at red lights were a welcomed pause from the world, not an annoyance.

Slowly, recovery. Life began again, differently, softly. We are still learning to trust, still working on faith, still so grateful for those twins that we held so briefly in our arms on the cold night in February.

I watch people, I listen to conversations, I send quiet messages to other Moms “be still, do not wish away, love it all, even those challenging moments you think you can not conquer.”

Because you will.

We did. We would not have planned Anna and Noah to be so close in age but the day Noah was born, a relationship was born, too, between two children, one that is bigger and deeper and more amazing than I could have have hoped, no, ever have planned. It seemed someone had a bigger plan for us.

I truly believed when the twins died that I would not recover, that I would be forever sad, forever changed, forever lost but instead…the joys, the love, the laughter, the life in our everyday is so much greater because of them. Because we lost.

But yet, we didn’t.

You can’t plan everything and if you do, you could missing out on so much that life has to offer. And that? That is true loss.

Throughout the day yesterday, my mind went back to Christmases past.

Christmas 2007 – we told Anna and Noah (and Brian’s family) that I was pregnant and pregnant with twins. (what an exciting day for Brian and I!)

Christmas 2008 - we were mourning the loss of James & Jake, hopeful for another baby and not having any idea that a little baby was there, in my belly already but that baby wasn’t meant to be.

Christmas 2009 – 26 weeks pregnant, on the tree hung a secret note from the ultrasound tech, telling us the gender of the baby in my belly.

It’s a boy!

and now there is this year.

This baby, the big boy and big girl. Here, finally, not only in our hearts but, finally, in our arms. (Which are wrapped firmly around them.)

So, thankful for yesterday. Not just because it was Christmas but because it was a peaceful Christmas.

Feeling more joy, more pride, more love, more peace than I thought my heart could possibly contain.

It was good.

I hope yours was good, too.

Friday night, I was casually browsing the interwebs, which I rarely give myself time to do anymore and I came across support sites for babies lost, it sent me barreling down that dark place, remembering what it felt like to lose James and Jake.  Reading stories about deliveries and holding still babies.

Part of me wanted to hole myself up in a closet and be totally left alone.  But the other part of me, the stronger part of me, maybe, encouraged me to go to bed and count my blessings, one. two. three.

four + five.

Each one uniquely mine.

I laid in bed and thought about Anna’s hilarious laugh and her ability to act like a teenager when she’s just a seven year old.

I smiled at the thought of Noah holding my hand at church and whispering to me “this is really nice time at church with my family.”

I pictured myself kissing Eli’s chubby cheeks and looking deep into his eyes, wondering what he has seen.

and I dreamed of two angel babies, watching over the family that loves them so much.

I drifted off to sleep.  Happy.  Healthy.  Thankful.

I woke up to a lego trophy for “best Mom.”  And a baby boy with a tiny tooth set to emerge any day now and an monstrous mess of papers, laundry, food, crumbs, with my name on it.

But happy. healthy. thankful.

Nothing else matters.

Elijah turned five months old yesterday.

Sometimes, when he and I are just staring at each other, which we do, a lot, he reaches up and touches my face.

He smiles.

I melt.

On Saturday, it was just he and I at home.  I had just finished feeding him, I was helping him to sit up in my lap.  He looked directly at my James and Jake necklace, he reached over and held it in his hands.

He didn’t let go.

I wish I could tell you what that felt like to me.  Like some sort of heart bursting, full circle, heavenly, torturous, loving, painful moment that I will remember for the rest of my life.

I sometimes wonder how close James and Jake really are to us.  Like, did they gently lift his arm and guide him to that  necklace.  ”Here. Mommy will like it if you do this.”

We’ve been doing landscape work in our yard.  We have two bricks with their names printed on them.  I moved them and then picked Eli up.  I held him like you hold a baby.  His eyes sparkled from the bright sky’s reflection.  I asked him if he knew James and Jake.  He just stared at me.  I said “what were they like?”  and he laughed.

I think that means they are funny.

Two years ago tomorrow is their due date.  They should be turning two, instead we’ve been living without them for over two years.  In a strange way, I feel incomplete but on the other hand, I feel so complete.  I feel like I am the lucky one who gets to call James and Jake hers.

They are.

Mine.

Forever.

I’ll always be reaching for them and I know they are reaching for us.  I believe, wholly, that we will always meet in the middle, spiritually.

Which is beautiful and perfect and makes being their Mom…awesome.