Dear Ryan,
Happy 6th birthday sweet boy!
How can it be? I remember your dad holding you, seeing you take three breaths, holding you in my arms, feeling your weight and presence in this world. I can't image that it has been 6 years since those moments. I also remember telling you "its okay" and that you didn't need to fight anymore. Those words still break my heart, because I miss you so much.
I want to be selfish and beg for you back even if such a life on this Earth would have meant pain. I want to see your eyes, hear you laugh, feel your weight and presence again. If you were here, I would have taken the same day off of work, but it would have been to take cupcakes to at school. To see your kindergarten classmates celebrate you, what I would give to trade cleaning a grave site for that moment. But those wishes are selfish, the result of missing you to the depths of the oceans.
You are my son, but I know so little about you. I know you taught me that strength and bravery do not limit tears and sadness, but often happen right along with them. You taught me that love and grieve can be to complex to define. You have taught me that just when I think I can't, I can.
Because of you, I have seen your dad as a pillar of strength and a dad of great gentleness. Through you, I have seen how he longs to protect us all from pain and how one small boy can bring him to his knees in love.
Through you, I have seen your brother develop a faith and love in the unseen. His love for you is indescribable and because of that love, he cherishes your brother, Luke. Sean is so proud to be your brother and teaches us all how to live and love you every day. Luke will know you because of your brother's love.
Ryan, you are ours', forever. Thank you for all you have taught us and continue to teach us. Happy birthday our beloved son!
Loving you forever,
Mom
Saturday, September 17, 2016
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Rainbows and Boys
The last time I wrote on here was days before Ryan's first birthday. It has been almost a year and a half since that day, and I found myself drawn back here. I have not written during that time, not because I do not miss and love Ryan greatly, but I found that for me to be a mom to Sean and a wife to Scott, I had to focus on the here and now in my home. Ryan remained in my thoughts constantly and has remained a significant part of our family. His birthday is celebrated and remembered. His name is said in our house regularly and his pictures grace our walls. My heart still aches to hold him in my arms and I still have the questions and the wonder of what he would be like today, would he be our adventuresome child or our laid back one. Would he look like his big brother...
Our family has had a big change since the last time I wrote. In May of 2012, we were excited to learn that we were expecting! I was pregnant with our Rainbow baby and was thrilled and scared beyond belief! I remember being scared to hope for a living child. I would prepare myself in my thoughts for how I would explain to Sean that another little brother would be in Heaven. But in the midst of those thoughts, I hung on to a thread of hope, the hope of being able to bring our child home. Throughout the pregnancy there would be moments of increased anxiety and then relief. The first ultrasound followed by the many others would begin with fears and end of tears of relief and incredible joy. There was one ultrasound were they saw a spot on our little one's heart...my heart started to break, but with reassurance and support, we hung in there to grasp the hope and knowledge that God was holding our little one and us and knew what he was doing. As we neared the end of the pregnancy, I was desperately ready to meet our little guy (yes, another boy!), but I was scared of that moment of delivery. I found myself in triage at 35 weeks scared that my fluid was leaking and then back there the next day with contractions. With a C-section scheduled for 39 weeks, I was on board with going into labor early, I needed to hold my son in my arms and know he was okay. I described myself as a paranoid and crazy pregnant woment. I was monitored at the doctor's office for lack of fetal movement and spent many moments laying on our couch at night begging our son to kick, turn over, just to move.
During the pregnancy I also found myself having to reassure Sean about his little brother. It really hit home, the hurt he felt when Ryan died, as he would tell me of fears that something would happen to this brother. We had several talks where I would re-explain what caused Ryan to die and talk about how he could not "catch" what happened to Ryan and that the doctors were watching this brother really close and he did not have what Ryan did. Sean loved to talk to his brother in my tummy and would always follow-up with a "goodnight" to Ryan in Heaven. He would hug my tummy and then reach his arms up the air extending a hug to his other little brother. It has been incredible to watch his love for both of his brothers!
On January 22nd, Scott and I headed to the hospital early in the morning ready to meet our newest son. At 7:42am, Luke Bradley, was born via C-section and screamed! His cry, which was loud and lasted for a long time, was the most wonderful sound I had heard, and the tears started to flow. God knew what I needed at that moment, because when Sean was born, the thing I remember hearing was "the cord's around his neck", and then when Ryan was born the room was silent, there were no crys. Luke let me know right away that he was here and the memory still feels surreal. How blessed we are.
Sean met his little brother later that day, and was a proud big brother. He continues to be proud and talks to Luke and is already trying to teach him about school, transformers and everything else that is important to a 6 year old. He also continues to make sure that Ryan is included, often telling me that he has the best little brothers.
I love to just hold my son, just to marvel in the miracle that he is. Luke's name means light and he is our light. He was our light at the end of a dark tunnel, our rainbow to remind us that in spite of the storm there is light and beauty. Ryan will always be our middle son, his name will be spoken in our home and he will be remembered and loved and now he gets to be a big brother...
Our family has had a big change since the last time I wrote. In May of 2012, we were excited to learn that we were expecting! I was pregnant with our Rainbow baby and was thrilled and scared beyond belief! I remember being scared to hope for a living child. I would prepare myself in my thoughts for how I would explain to Sean that another little brother would be in Heaven. But in the midst of those thoughts, I hung on to a thread of hope, the hope of being able to bring our child home. Throughout the pregnancy there would be moments of increased anxiety and then relief. The first ultrasound followed by the many others would begin with fears and end of tears of relief and incredible joy. There was one ultrasound were they saw a spot on our little one's heart...my heart started to break, but with reassurance and support, we hung in there to grasp the hope and knowledge that God was holding our little one and us and knew what he was doing. As we neared the end of the pregnancy, I was desperately ready to meet our little guy (yes, another boy!), but I was scared of that moment of delivery. I found myself in triage at 35 weeks scared that my fluid was leaking and then back there the next day with contractions. With a C-section scheduled for 39 weeks, I was on board with going into labor early, I needed to hold my son in my arms and know he was okay. I described myself as a paranoid and crazy pregnant woment. I was monitored at the doctor's office for lack of fetal movement and spent many moments laying on our couch at night begging our son to kick, turn over, just to move.
During the pregnancy I also found myself having to reassure Sean about his little brother. It really hit home, the hurt he felt when Ryan died, as he would tell me of fears that something would happen to this brother. We had several talks where I would re-explain what caused Ryan to die and talk about how he could not "catch" what happened to Ryan and that the doctors were watching this brother really close and he did not have what Ryan did. Sean loved to talk to his brother in my tummy and would always follow-up with a "goodnight" to Ryan in Heaven. He would hug my tummy and then reach his arms up the air extending a hug to his other little brother. It has been incredible to watch his love for both of his brothers!
On January 22nd, Scott and I headed to the hospital early in the morning ready to meet our newest son. At 7:42am, Luke Bradley, was born via C-section and screamed! His cry, which was loud and lasted for a long time, was the most wonderful sound I had heard, and the tears started to flow. God knew what I needed at that moment, because when Sean was born, the thing I remember hearing was "the cord's around his neck", and then when Ryan was born the room was silent, there were no crys. Luke let me know right away that he was here and the memory still feels surreal. How blessed we are.
Sean met his little brother later that day, and was a proud big brother. He continues to be proud and talks to Luke and is already trying to teach him about school, transformers and everything else that is important to a 6 year old. He also continues to make sure that Ryan is included, often telling me that he has the best little brothers.
I love to just hold my son, just to marvel in the miracle that he is. Luke's name means light and he is our light. He was our light at the end of a dark tunnel, our rainbow to remind us that in spite of the storm there is light and beauty. Ryan will always be our middle son, his name will be spoken in our home and he will be remembered and loved and now he gets to be a big brother...
Thursday, September 15, 2011
As the day of Ryan's birthday gets closer, I have been thinking a lot about the past year and a half. I have been cherishing the memories of my moments with my son. I have been remembering those who have walked through the journey beside me and my family. In light of that, I wanted to share something that I read posted by another BLM ~
Just Because time has passed
doesn't mean that all is fine.
My sadness, and my grief
Hasn’t diminished with time.
... Just Because I am smiling
doesn't mean that I'm not down.
I cry for my little baby
when no one is around.
You ask me how I'm feeling,
but do you really want to know?
The moment I try telling you
You say you have to go
How can I tell you,
what it's been like for me
I am haunted, I am broken
By things that you don't see
You ask me how I'm holding up,
but do you really care?
The second I try to speak my heart;
You start squirming in your chair.
Everyone avoids me now,
because they don't know what to say
They tell me I'll be there for you,
then turn and walk away.
Call me if you need me,
that's what everybody said,
But how can I call you and scream
into the phone,
My God, my child is dead?
No one will let me
say the words that I need to say
Why does a mother's grief
scare everyone away?
I am tired of pretending
as my heart pounds in my chest,
I say things to make you comfortable,
but my soul finds no rest.
How can I tell you things
that are too sad to be told,
of the helplessness of holding a child
who in your arms grows cold?
You cannot imagine
what it was like for me that day
to place a final kiss upon that cheek,
and have to turn and walk away.
If you really love me,
and I believe you do,
if you really want to help me,
here is what I need from you.
Sit down beside me,
reach out and take my hand,
Say "My friend, I've come to listen,
I want to understand."
Just hold my hand and listen
that's all you need to do,
And if by chance I shed a tear,
it's all right if you do to.
I swear that I'll remember
till the day I'm very old,
the friend who sat and held my hand
and let me bare my soul.
I hope one day, no mom will ever know the pain of burying her child. I hope that one day, no mom will have to wonder what color her child's eyes were or only imagine the sound of her child's cry. But until that time, if you know a mom who has experienced the immeasurable grief of living without their child, here is my advice. Call their child by name, invite them to tell you about their child, remember their child with them. Don't be scared by their tears, what happened to them is not contagious. If it makes you feel awkard just try to imagine the hurt of not feeling comfortable talking about your child, because of being worried about making people uncomfortable or sad. My son may have only lived for two hours, but I am still a proud mother and I still want to say his name and tell you about him. When you ask me how many children I have, I will tell you that I have one living child, and by your response I will know if it is okay to tell you about my other wonderful and much loved child. Just remember, these children are gone to soon, but they will live forever in the hearts of those who love them.
Just Because time has passed
doesn't mean that all is fine.
My sadness, and my grief
Hasn’t diminished with time.
... Just Because I am smiling
doesn't mean that I'm not down.
I cry for my little baby
when no one is around.
You ask me how I'm feeling,
but do you really want to know?
The moment I try telling you
You say you have to go
How can I tell you,
what it's been like for me
I am haunted, I am broken
By things that you don't see
You ask me how I'm holding up,
but do you really care?
The second I try to speak my heart;
You start squirming in your chair.
Everyone avoids me now,
because they don't know what to say
They tell me I'll be there for you,
then turn and walk away.
Call me if you need me,
that's what everybody said,
But how can I call you and scream
into the phone,
My God, my child is dead?
No one will let me
say the words that I need to say
Why does a mother's grief
scare everyone away?
I am tired of pretending
as my heart pounds in my chest,
I say things to make you comfortable,
but my soul finds no rest.
How can I tell you things
that are too sad to be told,
of the helplessness of holding a child
who in your arms grows cold?
You cannot imagine
what it was like for me that day
to place a final kiss upon that cheek,
and have to turn and walk away.
If you really love me,
and I believe you do,
if you really want to help me,
here is what I need from you.
Sit down beside me,
reach out and take my hand,
Say "My friend, I've come to listen,
I want to understand."
Just hold my hand and listen
that's all you need to do,
And if by chance I shed a tear,
it's all right if you do to.
I swear that I'll remember
till the day I'm very old,
the friend who sat and held my hand
and let me bare my soul.
I hope one day, no mom will ever know the pain of burying her child. I hope that one day, no mom will have to wonder what color her child's eyes were or only imagine the sound of her child's cry. But until that time, if you know a mom who has experienced the immeasurable grief of living without their child, here is my advice. Call their child by name, invite them to tell you about their child, remember their child with them. Don't be scared by their tears, what happened to them is not contagious. If it makes you feel awkard just try to imagine the hurt of not feeling comfortable talking about your child, because of being worried about making people uncomfortable or sad. My son may have only lived for two hours, but I am still a proud mother and I still want to say his name and tell you about him. When you ask me how many children I have, I will tell you that I have one living child, and by your response I will know if it is okay to tell you about my other wonderful and much loved child. Just remember, these children are gone to soon, but they will live forever in the hearts of those who love them.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
One year
In 9 days it will be my son's first birthday. There will be no large gathering of friends and family at our house with a little one toddling around the room. Instead there will be a group of three with a cake and a few balloons visiting a cemetery. It seems like the closer we get to Ryan's birthday, the more Sean talks about his little brother. Today walking through a store, Sean saw some baby clothes and said that we should get some for Ryan, we could send them to Heaven. He mentions that he misses Ryan and that he wishes he could come back because there are things he needs to teach him. My heart just breaks.
It seems like the closer we get to one year, the more my heart aches. The tears are back. The anger is back. The hurt and sadness are right back at the surface. I feel like I am right back to the fresh emotions that I was experiencing when we got Ryan's diagnosis and when he was born. I don't think I was prepared for these emotions, but then again how do you prepare for any of this. I miss my son more than I could ever explain.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
It seems like the closer we get to one year, the more my heart aches. The tears are back. The anger is back. The hurt and sadness are right back at the surface. I feel like I am right back to the fresh emotions that I was experiencing when we got Ryan's diagnosis and when he was born. I don't think I was prepared for these emotions, but then again how do you prepare for any of this. I miss my son more than I could ever explain.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Friday, July 1, 2011
D day
Where has a year gone? A year ago, I was still an innocent mom. A mom who thought every thing would be okay because I made it through the first trimester. Excited to find out if I would have another son or a daughter, but oblivious to what could be discovered. Diagnosis day was devastating, heart wrenching, traumatic and numbing. And it still feels like yesterday.
The anniversary of the day we were told of Ryan's diagnosis is bringing an overwhelming flood of emotions that I was not expecting. The memories of that day, the moments, the words, they haunt me. I remember joyfully sharing my sonogram pictures, leaving voicemails for my husband with boys names that I liked, and then getting a voicemail from my doctor asking for me to call her on her cell and my life changed forever.
The moments during that phone call, the empathy in my doctor's voice, the words she said. I remember sitting there writing words down as she said them. As I wrote the word "fatal" my heart shattered. I remember calling my coworker, and struggling to say the words. How do you explain that the child you are carrying will die? Then how do you call your husband at work and tell him that his son will die? That moment, having to tell my husband, my best friend, the father of my child, there are not words to describe that moment.
I don't think I was prepared for this wave of memories and emotions. I guess I had myself fooled, thinking I had locked everything away in a safe place. The problem is that my heart is still shattered and anything that I lock in there can still leak out.
Ryan, there is not an hour that goes by that I don't think of you, miss you, wonder how different our lives would be if you were here with us. I love you.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
The anniversary of the day we were told of Ryan's diagnosis is bringing an overwhelming flood of emotions that I was not expecting. The memories of that day, the moments, the words, they haunt me. I remember joyfully sharing my sonogram pictures, leaving voicemails for my husband with boys names that I liked, and then getting a voicemail from my doctor asking for me to call her on her cell and my life changed forever.
The moments during that phone call, the empathy in my doctor's voice, the words she said. I remember sitting there writing words down as she said them. As I wrote the word "fatal" my heart shattered. I remember calling my coworker, and struggling to say the words. How do you explain that the child you are carrying will die? Then how do you call your husband at work and tell him that his son will die? That moment, having to tell my husband, my best friend, the father of my child, there are not words to describe that moment.
I don't think I was prepared for this wave of memories and emotions. I guess I had myself fooled, thinking I had locked everything away in a safe place. The problem is that my heart is still shattered and anything that I lock in there can still leak out.
Ryan, there is not an hour that goes by that I don't think of you, miss you, wonder how different our lives would be if you were here with us. I love you.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Nine months
Dear Ryan,
Tomorrow you will be 9 months old and it aches in my heart that you are not growing up in my arms. I may not write as much anymore or talk about you as much, but I can promise that I still love, think of you all the time and ache to have you here with us. I am looking at a family picture right now from when you big brother was right around nine months and I wonder if you would look like him. Would you have the same fine hair or the same blue eyes? You had his mouth, that perfect sweet mouth. How I wish I could hold you right now, hug you tight, whisper in your ear that "mommy loves you". I wish I could watch you sleep tonight. But enough wishing, my wishes came true while I held you in my arms, no amount of time would have ever been enough. May you continue to watch over us from heaven and feel our love radiating to you.
Love,
Mommy
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Tomorrow you will be 9 months old and it aches in my heart that you are not growing up in my arms. I may not write as much anymore or talk about you as much, but I can promise that I still love, think of you all the time and ache to have you here with us. I am looking at a family picture right now from when you big brother was right around nine months and I wonder if you would look like him. Would you have the same fine hair or the same blue eyes? You had his mouth, that perfect sweet mouth. How I wish I could hold you right now, hug you tight, whisper in your ear that "mommy loves you". I wish I could watch you sleep tonight. But enough wishing, my wishes came true while I held you in my arms, no amount of time would have ever been enough. May you continue to watch over us from heaven and feel our love radiating to you.
Love,
Mommy
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
The Redeemer
So, my four year old has a new favorite song. He wants to listen to it every morning and every afternoon (and would listen to it more, if I would let him). He sits in the back seat of my car and sings along to all of the words. Everyday, I listen to the words and realize how through his favorite song, I am receiving a daily message to guide me through my journey.
The Redeemer
~Sanctus Real
Sometimes I just want to start over, 'cause everything looks like a wreck
And I need the courage to carry on, 'cause I can't see what's ahead
And there are places I've wished I could be, battles I've wanted to win
Dreams that have slipped through my hands
I may never get back again
But I'm still a dreamer, a believer
Oh, I've lost my faith in so many things, but I still believe in You
'Cause You can make anything new
Sometimes I just wish we could say all the things that are easy to hear
Ignore the injustice we see and explain every unanswered prayer
But I'd rather speak honestly and wear a tattered heart on my sleeve
'Cause in the middle of my broken dreams, redemption is here
And I'm still a dreamer, a believer
Oh, I've lost my faith in so many things, but I still believe in You
'Cause You are the answer, the redeemer
Oh, I've given up on too many things, but I'm not giving up on You
'Cause You can make anything new
I don't have every answer in life
But I'm trusting You one day at a time
'Cause You can make a weak heart stay alive forever
this is where Heaven and Earth collide
I lift my hands and give my life
This is how my weary heart stays alive
Oh, I'm still a dreamer (This is where Heaven and Earth collide)
(I lift my hands and give my life)
Still a believer (This is how my weary heart stays alive)
Oh, You are the answer (Oh, this is where Heaven and Earth collide)
(I lift my voice and give my life)
The redeemer (This is how my weary heart stays alive, oh)
'Cause You can make anything new
Yeah, You can make anything new
The Redeemer
~Sanctus Real
Sometimes I just want to start over, 'cause everything looks like a wreck
And I need the courage to carry on, 'cause I can't see what's ahead
And there are places I've wished I could be, battles I've wanted to win
Dreams that have slipped through my hands
I may never get back again
But I'm still a dreamer, a believer
Oh, I've lost my faith in so many things, but I still believe in You
'Cause You can make anything new
Sometimes I just wish we could say all the things that are easy to hear
Ignore the injustice we see and explain every unanswered prayer
But I'd rather speak honestly and wear a tattered heart on my sleeve
'Cause in the middle of my broken dreams, redemption is here
And I'm still a dreamer, a believer
Oh, I've lost my faith in so many things, but I still believe in You
'Cause You are the answer, the redeemer
Oh, I've given up on too many things, but I'm not giving up on You
'Cause You can make anything new
I don't have every answer in life
But I'm trusting You one day at a time
'Cause You can make a weak heart stay alive forever
this is where Heaven and Earth collide
I lift my hands and give my life
This is how my weary heart stays alive
Oh, I'm still a dreamer (This is where Heaven and Earth collide)
(I lift my hands and give my life)
Still a believer (This is how my weary heart stays alive)
Oh, You are the answer (Oh, this is where Heaven and Earth collide)
(I lift my voice and give my life)
The redeemer (This is how my weary heart stays alive, oh)
'Cause You can make anything new
Yeah, You can make anything new
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