JJF | I Should Be Folding Laundry

Archive for JJF – Page 4

Only in dreams.

April 11th, 2010

I miss them. I honestly do. I wake up at four in the morning and nurse Elijah and I think about how I never got to do this with James and Jake. I think about it with everything that we do, the first car ride, diaper changes, sponge baths, the Mommy-Baby naps on a sunny, Sunday afternoon.

Their loss brings sadness to me. Sometimes, when I have those moments that every Mom has after having a baby, the tears flow because of exhaustion but extra tears stream down for James and Jake.

But with the extra tears are extra smiles, extreme gratitude and moments of peace as the baby sleeps and breaths softly on my shoulder.

In two weeks, we will be honoring James and Jake by walking in the March of Dimes March for Babies walk. The walk is over six miles so I won’t be walking but family and friends will be walking – for them, remembering them. I’ll have Elijah is my arms, thanking God for this day that we have for dedicating to James and Jake. This day that we remember and honor them and hope to prevent anyone else from losing their babies, as we lost ours.

Team James and Jake has raised over $20,000 because of people JUST LIKE YOU. You, my readers, my friends, you people who love and who care and who know how sacred life is and how fragile carrying a baby can be. And maybe you’ve never lost, instead you just get how lucky you are.

Sometimes, I dream about what they would be doing right now, I dream about the relationship they would have with their older brother and sister, I dream about their little toes, their sameness and also what makes them unique.

Today and for the next few weeks, I’ll be asking you for donations to help ensure that ALL babies are born healthy, that all beautiful babies are given a chance to lay comfortably on their Mommy’s chest, to feel the sunshine on their soft skin and to grow up to be healthy and happy.

Every dollar, every single dollar makes a difference, I promise you, it does. If you are able, you can click here to donate. If you are unable to donate, please help me spread the word about Team James and Jake!

*For everyone that donates $50 or more, I will be sending you a Team James and Jake key chain, similar to what you see below as a thank you for your generosity. These key chains were generously made by Cameron at Create Beauty Daily.

*If you live in Northwest Indiana or the surrounding area, we would LOVE to have you join our team on April 24th in Valparaiso, Indiana. Anyone is welcome to join us – this is our day to dedicate to James and Jake! The event is inspirational and beautiful (and there’s fried chicken!) Click here to join our team!

Team James and Jake proudly walks in honor of so many babies who left this world too soon :

My nephew: Jonathan Davis Johnson
My niece: Grace Pauline Johnson
Lydia Grace Focosi
Allison Jane Nash
Mabel Love Segerman
and sweet baby Joel

Random Pieces

March 25th, 2010

First, have you signed up to receive one of my birth announcements? Can I tell you how much I love that YOU can receive one? {yes you.} Tiny Prints did this for my friend, Megan, over at Velveteen Mind, when I received mine I was so thrilled. It just made me happy.

So, please feel free to sign up, don’t be shy. I love the idea of giving you back some of the love you all have given me during this pregnancy and beyond.

___

Also, I posted here.

___

And the winner of the Geezees Canvas Art giveaway is Jess! Congrats!

___

This week has been a very, very difficult week for me emotionally. I can think of maybe 10 reasons why this may be the case but I think the biggest problem I am having is my lack of sleep. I just can’t sleep. It used to be a comfort issue now it’s a mind-racing issue AND a comfort issue. ”what do I need to do before he arrives, will he be healthy, will he go to the NICU? how will the kids adjust? how will we adjust? is this really real? is he with James and Jake right now?”

I think of that last thought often. I laid in bed last night, eyes closed, surrounded by pillows, listening to Brian breathe quietly. I wondered if James and Jake have been telling this baby things about their family like “Noah is going to teach you to play video games, he’s really good, so listen to him. (and you are going to love his belly laugh!) Anna plans to read stories to you every single day. (and wait until you see her beautiful eyes!) Mom is a sucker for baby noises, so coo a lot, she can’t get enough. And Daddy? He’s a big guy with a huge heart, he loves to snuggle with his babies, that makes him happy.”

It’s a lot to take in, a lot to think about. Our lives are changing forever, in a really good way but change is hard no matter who you are and as THE MOM I’m worrying a lot.

But I can handle this. I can handle the lack of sleep, I had it before and it was in a much more difficult situation.

I can handle the crying, the emotional toll. I’ve done it before but for a different reason, one that broke my heart.

And I can handle the worry of how this is going to affect my family … I’ve worried this before and we came out good. Better.

I’ve got this.

Sleepily. Painfully. Happily.

I’ve got this.

Maybe April

March 23rd, 2010

One week after we lost James and Jake, Brian and I were sitting in my OB’s office for a post-delivery visit. We sat in the waiting room and were instantly called back to wait in an exam room so we didn’t have to be surrounded by gigantic pregnant bellies and little, tiny newborns being nursed by their Moms.

(reason 1,432 why I love my doctor. She thinks of things like that.)

It was a hard visit, I mean, HARD. I remember at that point feeling so emotionally drained and physically tired that I could not figure out how I could have a real conversation with this doctor. This doctor who delivered James and Jake so carefully.

Anyway, Brian and I knew we wanted to get pregnant again and honestly, we wanted to do it immediately, but we wanted to be smart. We wanted to be emotionally ready. We wanted to give time to us and Anna and Noah for grieving. And we wanted to give this time to James and Jake.

We picked up one of those wheels, the kind that tell you when you’re ovulating and menstruating and then when you’re baby will be due. It’s actually quite freakish the amount of information that exists on one of those things.

We decided, that if we were ready, that we would try to get pregnant, that year in July. ”An April baby would be perfect.”

Come that July … we just were not ready. And after another pregnancy loss in February 2009, we decided to get advice medically on what we should do. And that led us to July of 2009. We had an appointment with our specialist in Chicago, we were scheduled for an appointment with her after she had thoroughly reviewed our health history, pregnancy history, families, blood draws, tissues samples … anything and everything that could shed some light on our reproductive past, present and future.

We entered the appointment, so nervously, not knowing what to expect.

She sat us down and said “you should try again…and make it quick, you ovulate next week.”

And so we did. And even though it was a different year, we were right, an April baby is going to be perfect. (or March 29th. Whatever.)

38 weeks

(photo by Love.)

Here we are … two years.

February 26th, 2010

February 26, 2008, we held our sweet, lifeless baby boys in our arms. I labored, pushed, held them, I slept with them. No matter how hard I tried, I could not keep them warm. {I tried so hard.}

Part of me went with them, which brings me peace knowing they have some of their Mom with them, even today, as they shine down on us every single day.

And they left so much with us, their spirits, their guidance, their unbelievable love. They shine brighter than anything else in my world.

Which makes me ache for them, now more than ever.

They live with us, in their own way, in the only way we ALL know how. I marvel at the fact that we as family, here are earth, and they, as brothers, beautiful in heaven, work together so intricately to create a balance of family. A balance of love that has no boundaries.

Anna loves them with all of her heart and soul. She never fails to say that once this baby is born in just over four weeks, that she will have FOUR brothers. Sometimes never specifying that two are in a place that we can not see. {but only feel.}

Noah loves but fears so much. As the four of us worked in the baby’s room the other night, he seemed to hesitate and finally said “but WHAT IF he dies?” His knowledge of death makes my heart break, what do you say to a six year old boy who should only know LIFE and not death?

I never know what is the right thing to say back to him, I want to reassure him but I have the same thoughts, way too many times a day. We use words like TRUST and FAITH and LOVE and HOPE.

trust.faith.love.hope.

Yes. We are trying. And we have two boys up in heaven giving us the strength we need to do just that. Not a day goes by that we are not grateful.

***

To all of you who love James and Jake, there are so many of you, I wish I could describe to you what the feels like, but the words, they fail me. Just know that it’s bigger than you’ll ever know. Thank you for remembering. Mostly, though, thank you for loving.

J&J – I know you feel what’s in our hearts today (and every single day) – we can’t have you right now, as precious, playful, curious toddlers, we can’t smell you and hug you and kiss your owies. But instead, we have the most perfect angel babies standing guard, offering us strength and showing us love that will never, ever leave. It’s only grows. It’s so beautiful and we are so grateful for you.

“…we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us…”
Romans 5:3-5

Good grief

February 19th, 2010

33 weeks

The title of this post is so fitting for my life right now. I did not intend to be all double meaning, it just happened. I opened up the photo in photoshop and thought “GOOD GRIEF, I am large.” And then I saw things on my dresser, sacred, beautiful James and Jake things that I won’t even tell you about (that’s how sacred) that are right there. On my dresser. GRIEF.

And right above, my belly, growing this delicious baby inside of me who I know is speaking to his big brothers up there (as Anna and Noah refer to heaven now). GOOD.

February 26th, the day I delivered James and Jake, the day that marks the moment I held them in my arms when I should have been holding them in my belly…the day and the days and months after..they hold GRIEF.

But that day, February 26th, marks the day we were able to hold those precious angels in our arms, we remarked on their sameness, their uniqueness, how much they looked like Noah. We held the babies that changed our lives, our love, our outlook, OUR EVERYTHING. GOOD.

We’ve traveled this road of GRIEF for nearly two years now – it’s been a road with dips and curves and SPEED BUMPS that felt like they would kill us. It’s been a road of greener trees and flowers with overwhelming fragrance, the kind of fragrance that stops you in your tracks, just to take in the sweetness that you never took the time to notice before. But now you stop and you wipe the tears that flow endlessly down your face, you sniff and you smile and feel the sun on your hair. This road, abundant in birds and butterflies, sunshine and the sweet laughter of a child, this road that I would not have chosen, not in a million years, yet this road is the most beautiful road I have ever seen in my life.

GOOD GRIEF.

Yes, in the same sentence, yes, together.

« Previous Page