Like losing him all over again...

I know that Zac isn't there at the cemetery.  I know that.  I know that his soul and his spirit is happy in heaven.  And that is a wonderful knowledge.  And wonderful to know that one day we will be together for eternity with all our children.  Yes, that is wonderful knowledge.

The other day, however, Evan and I went out to the cemetery to remove a cross that had been broken in a wind storm and replace it with a ceramic angel figurine.  And when I pulled up to the Little Angels site...everything was gone.  EVERYTHING. 

I went ice cold. 

I know logically that the cemetery had likely chosen to start to enforce the rule of not having items left around the plots.  When Zac was burried and we met with the person to arrange for his plaque he had mentioned that the grounds had a policy for no items left but that at the Little Angels site they chose to turn a blind eye and allow items.

So, even though I knew this was likely the situation, I still had to gather myself and not break down in front of Evan.

In that moment, it felt like I lost Zac all over again. 

I went to the office and asked what had happened to all the items and they let me know each site was boxed up and the boxes were in a storage building all labelled, and that I would need to find a grounds keeper and they would take me to the items.

I asked if a letter had been sent out, and she said yes, twice.  But of course, who would ever think you would need to update a change of address at a cemetery.  I never did.  I knew I should have.  And I guess I better now! 

So off Evan and I went to find the storage building.  And then from the back seat Evan says to me, "Mommy, where is Zac?"  Me:  "remember bud, he is in heaven with Jesus."  Evan: "Oh ya.  I wish he were right beside me here".  Me:  "Me too buddy, me too.  But one day we will all be together again because we have Jesus in our hearts, right?!"  Evan:  "yah!"

Thank goodness Evan couldn't see the tears running down my face.

We found the building.  And once again collected what was all we had for Zac at the cemetery.  A huge flash back to being handed a box of all we had left from the few days we shared together with Zac at the hospital.

And I'm tired of being handed boxes of memories, so few and so precious.

I do respect the cemetery's reasoning.  But, as a mommy who only has a grave to visit with one of her sons...that's tough.  Because just being able to have those few items around Zac's plaque meant so much to me.  Items to personalize an otherwise cold and sad grave.  Those few items brought a bit of "life" and "joy" to my visits.  And was my way of being able to still do SOMETHING for my son.

I know...they are just "things" and he is not "there".  And maybe some are just rolling their eyes at these feelings of mine and maybe not understanding what this possibly feels like...and that's ok.  If you haven't experienced this, I wouldn't expect you to understand.  So, I don't judge.  But I ask that I not be judged for the ways that help me deal with losing one of my sons.

Those few items made that little space feel like "our" place.  I would go visit when I was feeling overwhelmed with life circumstances, or just needing some Zac time, and I would go sit and journal or pray or chat about Evan "to" Zac.  And it oddly became a place of "peace" and serenity.  It was "our" place.  Not at all the type of place I'd ever wished to be our place, but it felt like I still had a way to be able to do something.

It has just been a strange adjustment yet again.  And difficult, because once again, that grave site just seems cold and empty. 

So I now have the cherubs and the hanging plaque in the picture above in a little flower bed at the front of my house.  It's not the same, but they are here with us. 

But I have to say, it makes me feel the same as Evan's comment was to me "I wish Zac were here beside me..."

I love how Evan is making Zac's name more a part of conversations though.  Some are quite funny.  And I've had a frame with a picture of both Zac and Evan from NICU on a window sill that Evan now has claimed as his and is on his dresser in his bedroom.  It touches my heart.  And is important that he knows of his brother.  They are a part of each other always.

I love my boys.  I love all my babes!  Always and forever, to eternity! xoxo

A first...

So, this past weekend I experienced a first.  A first of being away from Evan overnight since he came home from NICU!!  And it was...wierd.

I know there are many who wouldn't find this a big deal.  One night.  Literally less than 24 hours apart. 

For me...that was the longest night ever.  The 66 days Evan and I had to be apart through the nights while he was in NICU...that was enough to last me a lifetime!

I'm not one who feels the need or desire to be away.  Doesn't feel the necessity to "get away".
That is just not me.  I waited too many years, experienced too many losses and too much sadness to have nights together with Evan to ever WANT to be away from him.

HOWEVER...the reason for being away was a valid, and GOOD one!  My oldest, dearest best friend is getting married next month, and it was her bridal shower!!!  And I am her Matron of Honor at the wedding!  So it was truly a good reason to have to be away for the night!  And I am so very glad that I went for her!!  She has been such a treasured friend, since we were 5 years old!! 
She lives in the next province...6'ish hours away. 
We have remained friends through all these years, though we've hardly lived in the same province together since our friendship began!  But there are cherished memories!
And while I was living at the hospital before having Zac and Evan...she came for me!  She came on her spring break (she is a teacher) and brought marking to do while she sat by my side to keep me company and watch over me.  She is just that kind of friend.  That particular memory brings tears to my eyes every time I think of her at the hospital with me.  Forever grateful, forever blessed!
So I am so, so, SO glad that I was able to be able to share a joyous occassion with her!!

And though I felt frustrated each time I heard "it will be good for you", (being away for the night), I knew I'd survive.  As I knew Evan and Brett would do just fine without me :)  And, we all survived and did great! 

I have to say, I feel proud of myself for going, without dragging Evan and Brett on a road trip! 

However..."good for me"...I don't know if being apart from Evan is EVER "good" for me. 
I know what it's like to be apart from my son.  I didn't like it those 66 nights, and I don't think I will EVER like that feeling of being apart.  Even when he is grown, in college and married.  It will still sting.

And I know what it's like to be apart from my children in heaven, my Zac, Ethan, Jack and Whisper. 

It's never a "good" feeling being apart.

My flight both to and from the wedding shower was under not the sunniest of weather.  Rain and cloud.  Grey and rainy.  Yuck!  Yet...once we rose over those clouds...AMAZING!  Blue blue blue skies!  Sun and blue skies!  It was unreal!  And I couldn't help but tear up a few times.  I just felt God all around me!
Over those clouds and yucky grey skies...there was this amazing blue beauty and sunshine.

It reminded me a lot of how my heart can feel some days.  The clouds of sorrow and missing my children so very much...but then...there it is...beauty, sunshine, laughter, joy...hope.  The clouds and sadness of missing my children have a place...but sunshine is always there.  It is always there through the storm.  The cloud lifts and the sunshine pours through.  Does that make any sense?  It does to me, so I guess that's really all that matters.
We all have our grey days, and that should be okay.  As long as we rise above and push through and find that blue, sunshine sky.  We have to!  I have to!!!  No matter how much turbulence along the way!

I tell you, while I was away, though I was having a wonderful time celebrating such a joyful answer to prayer for my friend in her engagement...I had one little face in mind the whole time.  Evan!  All I could think about was feeling his little arms wrap around my neck when he and Brett came to pick me up from the airport.  I felt like a little kid just waiting for the biggest surprise ever.
We hadn't told Evan a thing about me leaving.  It would have worked him up, and I just wanted it to feel as normal a day as possible.  And I knew I'd be back before he woke up the next morning.
And seriously...when he saw me at the airport...the way his face lit up...filled me up so so so much!
And those little arms tightly wrapped around me...COME ON!!!  The BEST!

It was a first of many first's to come.  First's that may not be too comfortable for me, but that must happen at some time. 
Evan keeps talking about school and wanting to go.  Though as soon as I remind him that school is a special place for just him, his teacher and his friends...he reconsiders and tells me "well, I'm not ready YET mommy".  But the idea of his first day of preschool...yes, I WILL indeed be a mess as I walk away from that classroom.  I WILL indeed cry.  I WILL very likely sit out front of that school until it's time to pick him up! 

Some first's...some I do not look forward to.  Though, each of those first's means that life moves forward.  We grow.  We learn.  We branch out.  We keep moving forward through uncertain days and situations, and we keep hoping.  And watching the beauty of what is, and the hope of what is to come.

I don't know...I may just be babbling right now.  But these are just the thoughts in my mind right now.  Thinking of the first's we have had, and those to come.  I'm grateful to be able to experience any of them.  I never thought I would.  Almost didn't.  So now, even though some first's may be uncomfortable for my mommy heart...I'm just grateful that I get to have them!

Joy in struggle

It has been one of "those" days.  One where every single pain, worry, struggle and frustration hits all at once.  One of those days where I struggle to keep the smile on my face and the tears out of my eyes.  One of those days where I can feel the adrenalin of worry and self condemnation coursing through my veins...literally.  One of those days where the lies of the enemy are ringing loud and clear...though I know they are just that...lies. 

But there is always joy in "those" days.  His name is Evan.  And he is my earthly angel, my living son.  He is my joy, my heart, my breath, my everything.  He reminds me to fight through the hard days.  He reminds me to fight for the light in the darkness.  He is my living reminder that miracles can and do happen. 

He reminds me to be silly.  To cry if I need to, but to wipe my tears and giggle along side him.  He reminds me to focus on the simple things in each day.  I new animal at the zoo, a plane in the sky, a hotair balloon floating by, a fly tickling his neck...and the joy of blue bubble gum ice cream dripping all over his face.

Yes, the struggles, the pains, the reality of life remain...but they silence for a while.  They become more of a dull grind on my mind instead of the jack-hammer that rattles my soul from time to time when the harsh facts of areas of our journey just can't end, but don't get easier.

I am beyond grateful for this little boy who reminds me of so much I need to remember.  I am beyond blessed for the honor of parenting this little wonder.  Of watching him growing in to such a BOY!  SO grateful for the silliness of the simple things in life.  So beyond grateful for the reminder that no matter how our journey ends...I have more than I ever dreamed of!  And I get to see his smile every morning when he wakes up, and feel his arms wrap around my neck, and hear him say "I love you mommy!"

The journey can be so rough and dark at times.  Today started in that direction.

But my sweet boy brought back the joy of today, and all that I have!

I am so grateful, and so truly in love with our son! 

My heart and soul!

These amazing collage photos were done by our AWESOME photographer, Lisa Landrie, who put on a mini photo shoot called "Mother's of May".  These photo shoots were done on a donation basis, and ALL proceeds were donated to the Canadian Cancer Society.

After the losses we have been through, and through personal loss that Lisa experienced in her own family, this photo shoot and this fundraiser was VERY special to my heart, and I was so happy to learn of what Lisa was doing. 

Evan and I had a GREAT time!!!

Amazing witness...

On Monday we celebrated our dear friend Jeff's life on this earth.

Can I just say...I was beyond moved that every seat in that church was filled. 

I am so sad that this was the reason for the gathering...but moved beyond words!

One could not step in to that sanctuary with dry eyes. 

One of Jeff's family friends delivered the eulogy.  I was blown away.  The description this man gave, the image of Jeff he revealed...the friendship and respect for Jeff seen in this man...there are no words as to how beautiful he spoke of Jeff.  And of Jeff's amazing faith in God.  And his pure desire that lost come to know the Lord. 
I knew how very much he loves Tamara and the kids..but I learned a side of Jeff that although I knew...I didn't know HOW deep his faith ran.  Without wavering.  And with impact.  And with a focus on others and not himself.

Greg said something that has permanently etched itself in my brain.  "Put self on the shelf".
I can't walk away from that small piece of wisdom, with such amazing impact.

This life isn't just about us.  And when we have the faith of God, when we have his truth in our hearts...is it not then for us to share so that others may experience such a freedom?

Yes, losing Jeff was a shock.  His battle with this wretched cancer was...I can't think of the right words, but really, it was wrong.  It just felt unfair and wrong.  For ANY victim of cancer.
But Jeff had his rock-solid faith, right to the very end.  He clung to that.  He knew he would be okay because he knew he was right with God and trusted Him unfailingly.

Jeff's impact on others did NOT end the day he entered heaven.  His life mission to reach out to the lost and the less fortunate will not end in vain.  Satan did NOT win through cancer.  As a matter of fact...he lost even more.  Because I have to believe with all my heart that in the service for Jeff, lives were touched and more saints of heaven were gained, returned and secured.

This amazing man has a testimony that will carry on.  It will not be forgotten.
And it sure as heck challenged me in my faith and my walk with the Lord. 

I am so grateful for the beautiful words that Greg shared that day.  I am so grateful for the life Jeff led.  I am so grateful that through his family he will carry on.  And I am beyond grateful that I know because of our faith in Jesus, and our acceptance of him in our lives through our confession of sin and simply inviting Him in...we live.  Even at the end of our days on this earth...we will live.  The life we were meant to live.  We will rejoin with family and friends. 
I am exciting to meet the children I never held here on earth, I am excited to see Zac's eyes one again and hold him, I am excited to family that have passed before me, and I am looking so forward to hearing Jeff's unforgettable laugh.

The thing with Satan...he can try to win through bitterly painful loss and trials, but because of God and His role in our lives...no matter what...Satan loses.  He's a LOSER!

My heart aches daily, hourly, for my sweet friend Tamara and the children.  That is the side of pain and loss that can not be "clichèd" away.  Yes, God's word is a balm, but right now...pain and grief are raw and real.  And a person who has lost is aware of the word of God...but at the moment just needs to hear "this sucks beyond imagine...and I will be here for you!" 

When Zac passed away...I KNOW peoples intentions and words were not meant to harm or hurt.  But referring to Evan as "at least you have Evan"...was a daggar to my soul.  Evan is never an "at least".  And the reality of it is...Evan's life is not responsible for taking away the pain and fact that Zac is no longer on this earth.  That is a burden that Evan does not require.  Evan does not replace Zac, just as Zac would have never replaced Evan.  Losing a child, losing a husband, a wife, a parent...nothing is supposed to "replace" that and suddenly make everything better. 

Though step by step, day by day...slllllllowly...we allow God's healing to take place.  One day at a time, we feel His love, His comfort, His sorrow.  Baby steps at a time we learn it is okay to laugh again.  To feel again.  That even now, He is in control.  He loves us.  He hurts with us.
In the throws of sorrow, that is hard to accept when the questions of "why" happen.  When we know He could have healed and changed events. 
And knowing our answers will never be found on earth is a hard pill to swallow. 
But step by step we remember our faith and trust that we had in the depths of the valley, and we reconnect to where we feel betrayed (yes, betrayed). 

Our God loves.  He loves without bounds and questions.  He wants to carry us through the pain, not just the easy days.  He wants us to allow Him to pick us up and walk with us. 

Pain and confusion and questions have a way of putting up a guard.  It's a natural defense.  But slowly and bit by bit...we let that guard down and trust Him again.  He is the same today as He was in the midst of our valleys.  He does not change.  He will not lie.  He will become that balm our broken heart needs. 

But right now, pain is real.  Loss is real.  Confusion and questions are still center in the mind.  And lets say it like it is...it sucks.

I pray for peace and comfort and healing for Tamara and the kids.  I pray for what I can only imagine one of the most bitter-sweet days in Tamara's life...delivering her and Jeff's fourth child without Jeff physically present there.  I pray for the kids as they grow.  That their faith will not falter from the pain of losing their daddy.  I pray for their protection and their faith.

I know the pain of losing a child.  But knowing THAT pain does not put me in a place of understanding Tamara's pain of losing her husband, friend, partner.  I can not fathom.  And it breaks my heart for her and for the kids.

I ask that you pray for this sweet woman who never once wavered through Jeff's illness.  She stood strong in her faith alongside Jeff.  She cared for Jeff on his down days and never left his side.  She is a woman of strength and loving beauty.  A true example.
Pray for her as she prepares for her delivery.  Pray for their three children and for this little one on the way.  Pray for the family...parents, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, etc.  Pray for dear friends who were ever present through Jeff's illness.
Cover them in God's love and protection.

Remember that saying I mentioned that Greg said through his eulogy?

Put self on the shelf!

Live for more than just earthly wants and gains. 

Live for what truly matters.  Your relationship and our walk with God.  Being there for those who need it.  Living outside of yourself.  Being the hands of God.  And His arms of comfort. 

I will never forget the words spoken of Jeff, and the man of faith he was. 

He continues to touch my life, and I am honored and blessed to call him friend.



In loving memory of a dear friend...

I hate cancer.  I hate that it has no boundaries.  No regard for anything but destruction.  I hate that it has no limits, no prejudice, no care of who it affects and who it takes.

Yesterday morning we lost a very dear friend to cancer.  A young, vibrant, loving, man.  A man who loved his wife of 8 years.  Who adored his three young children...and another due in July.  A man who valued his friends and family.  A man who was genuine, and caring, and funny, and silly, and serious.

He just turned 37.

His wife turned 35 today.  The day after her husband passed away.

8 weeks before his child is due.

Cancer took his body.

But it did not take his life. 

Cancer did not reign victorious.  Jeff's faith assured that.  Heaven reigned victorious in gaining a true saint.  A true man of God.  A man who did not waver in his faith.  Who did not turn his back on God, his faith, his beliefs when days were dim. 

We witnessed a true miracle in the beginning of Jeff's battle.  Stage 4 cancer, given months to live...Jeff proved God is a God of miracles.  That cancer could not be found in Jeff. 

But it returned. 

Yes, there are so many questions.  So much confusion. 

Why?

And why this loss?

And the painful answer for those left behind on this earth...there is no answer that will take away the pain.  There are no answers on this earth.

But Jeff lives.  He lives fully.  He lives free.  He is no longer in pain.  His life has only just begun.

The night before Jeff passed away I had spoken with my dear friend, Jeff's wife.  We talked about a few things.  I tried to get an understanding of how things were looking.  Brett and I arranged to go the next morning to visit with Jeff.

We did not make it. 

Literally as we were leaving, our sister-in-law (a relative of Jeff's) messaged me saying Jeff had passed away that morning.

Why didn't we go the day before.  Why didn't we have that last moment.

The questions one always asks.

But no one believed this was what was going to happen yesterday morning.  This wasn't how it was supposed to happen.

Brett and I sat and cried. 

One day I will share about a personal experience I had had the night before and the morning of Jeff's passing.  Before I knew Jeff had passed away.  But for now I will wait.  For now I want to share that with my friend Tamara first.

Yesterday afternoon, EVERY cloud in the sky reminded me of an angel.  EVERY could was a whispy sillouhete of an angel.  And how fitting.  Because an angel most certainly entered heaven yesterday.

What an amazing man of faith.  He never wavered.  He never stopped trusting God and His word.  He never gave in to bitterness.  He never doubted.

His life has always shined light...but in this while...he shone brighter than ever.

His life is a testimony.  His life is a witness.  His life had value and meaning.  HAS value and meaning.

He was and is loved by so so so many, and his physical earthly presence will be missed deeply. 

I can hear his laugh.  His laugh that could make anyone join in laughter. 

I can see his face...his smile.

I can see him whole, healed...

But mostly, I hear his laugh.

I ask that you please keep Tamara and the kids tightly wrapped in prayer each and every day forward.

For this little one waiting to enter the world.  This little piece of Jeff preparing to enter this world.

Pray for comfort.  Comfort beyond understanding.

Jeff, you are truly loved, and you will be deeply missed.

Yet I know...we'll hear your laugh again one day!

Thank you, Lord, that through You, we will hear Jeff's laugh one day as he greets us at heaven's gate.

We love you!  And we miss you!

Love notes to my boy...

Often I write about my struggles of the joy and grief rollercoaster.  Today, on Mother's Day, I want to write my boy, my son, my everything a little note...


Bud,


The second I knew of you, I loved you.  That moment of seeing the photo of our two tiny embryos being transfered to me...I loved you both with all of my heart.
Hearing "you're pregnant"...I cried.  Tears of utter joy and hope.
Seeing you and your brother's heart beats...I was lost...to love.
Feeling you both kicking up a storm inside of me...I was in awe.

There you two are!  Evan and Zac on transfer day!

So many years of negatives...SO excited to see positive!

Yes, our journey has not been a typical journey.  Yes, we have both lost...me, a son; you, your brother.  But we honor his fight for both of us...and we shower each other in love!

In Memory of Zac Michael

Earthly snuggles while saying "see you again".  Thanking Zac for his fight for you and me buddy!  He fought for us!

I waited over 10 years to be a part of Mother's Day.  I had many tearful days, and many Mother's Days where I would go in to emotional shut down and hiding.  I wondered.  I prayed.  I screamed.  I fought.  I struggled.  I hoped. 


I will never understand the struggle, but I will always be grateful for you. 
I will hide many scars, but I will NEVER hide my love for you!
I may ache, but I will love...unending and without limit.
And as the years go, we may have our disagreements and arguements...but it will never change my love for you. 
You are precious.  You are a gift we never dreamed of.  You are more than I ever knew I wanted...needed.  When I look at you I see life.  I see dreams.  I see future.  I see a world of chance and opportunity for you. 
When I pray for you, I pray for peace, for love, for hope, for wisdom, for a kind and tender heart, for compassion, for fairness, for the strength to choose right over wrong.  I pray for the people who will enter your life.  That they will be an encouragement, not a discouragement.  I pray they will build character, not tear it down.  I pray that they honor your faith, not cause you to question it.  I pray that they will respect you as you will respect them.
I pray for the woman that God is preparing for you.  Your wife.  Your best friend.  I pray that she will cherish you, honor you, help you through lifes ups and downs.  I pray that she will look at you with eyes of love and admiration all the days of your lives.  I pray that you cherish her more than a princess.  That you never stop showing her how proud you are to have her at your side.
For whatever, and who ever God places in your path, I pray that their lives will be forever touched by you.  By the kindness of your heart. 
I pray that when my time on earth comes to an end, you will remember me with love and respect.  That you will never have for a second questioned my love and loyalty to you.
That you will know without a doubt how truly, very proud I am of you. 
That as you would drift off to sleep, I would pray over you, and shed tears of pure gratitude and love for you.  That you will carry on each of your days living them in your best.  That you would not let sadness or sorrow hold you captive in your yesterdays, but will help you forge ahead in your tomorrows.
You are more precious than words can ever express.
You are loved by mommy and daddy more than you will ever comprehend.
We are so very proud and so very, very, VERY honored to by your parents.


On May 11, 2009...we heard words we waited so long to hear..."Evan can go home today!". 
After 66 looooooong days in NICU, we were finally able to bring you home!
What an emotional day it was. 
We knew leaving those doors meant leaving the only place we got to be with your brother.  That leaving that unit, we would leave a part of our hearts for many reasons. 
We were excited, and nervous. 
You still weren't even 5 pounds!  We had to rig your car seat just right to be able to get you home!
I will never, ever forget that day.  It felt like your discharge check up would take forever.  I kept wondering if they would find some other reason to have you stay longer.  But we were piled up with information pamphlets, with all your extra items from your basinette drawer, your clothes, milk that was stored there...we had a LOT to take home.  But all we cared about was that you were COMING HOME!
It still feels so surreal!  Walking out those doors.  My heart soared, though another part of my heart ached knowing we were coming home without Zac too.  That was and is reality.  But it didn't mean that I couldn't enjoy every moment of walking out of that hospital with you.  After 4 months of living at the hospital between my 5 weeks before you boys were born, and then your 66 days in NICU...I never went a day without being at that hospital!  So, yes...leaving was bitter-sweet....but I was glad to be going home...with you between us!

Ever so tiny in your car seat!  Just under 5 pounds!

Our final walk through the hospital coridor.  Together!  Going home!

Snuggled in your own basinette!  You were so unbelievably tiny in there!!  We would just stare at you and watch you breathe!

From that point on, life has been a treasured gift.  Of waking to your sweet voice.  Of watching you growing FAR too fast!  Of seeing the drive and strength you possess.  Watching you wanting to learn about everything.  Watching you exploring.  Feeling your little arms around my neck, and your hand in mine.  I am so truly blessed and grateful to hear you call me mommy.  My heart overflows with love, and my eyes can't contain the tears of thankfulness.


You are so precious.  Don't EVER doubt my love for you.  I will never give you a reason to ever doubt..  I am with you always.  I will always be your cheering section.  I will always have your back.
You are my heart and soul.  And nothing will ever take that away or change that.


I am thankful for these 3 years years we've had together.  I am grateful to God for Him sparing your life.  He has such a special purpose and plan for your life...and I will be praying as you discover what that plan is!  I will never stop praying for you and over you.


I love you my sweet boy.  I love you more than you will ever know!  And I will never stop!!!!

Holding mommy's finger.  Such a teeny tiny hand!

Our very first snuggle with our 2 pound wonder.  4 days old (28m 5d gestational age!)

Some kangaroo time!

Moving ahead 3 years!  Now you are intrigued with catching all kinds of bugs.  I now have to put on a brave face!  Here you are desperately trying to catch some ants!

On a walk a few days ago.  Some piggy-back time and some cuddles!

Look at you growing up!  It's hard to imagine how quickly you are growing!  From 2 pounds, to riding a 2-wheeler bike with training wheels!  Wow...

Forever my pal!!!  xoxoxoxo

The dream of the Glider Chair...



The Glider.
I dreamed of the day I would rock both our sons in this chair...

While home on a 5 hour day pass from the hospital after rupturing with Zac. 
Being pregnant was the only time I ever got to rock BOTH of my sons in this chair.
I cherish every single day I was able to rock them both, together, inside of me.

A much smaller Evan enjoying some rock time on his own :)

The first kiss from a girl...in the glider!
Evan and Marley...
How I adore this picture for so many reasons of these two true miracles!

Even after taking out Evan's crib and setting up his big boy bed, the glider remained!
Though hardly ever used. 
Sigh...

A few days ago when I finally realized the glider was taking up more space than was being used.
I tearfully (literally...tears welled in my eyes!) carried the glider up to our bonus room.
The blanket draped on this chair is one given to me from a precious friend in Scotland in memory of Zac.



I've always loved rocking chairs.  I've always loved being rocked!  My favorite childhood memory.  Being rocked and having my mom play with my hair.  Makes me smile right now as I think of it!

I dreamed of the day I would get to own my own rocking chair.  Dreamed of the day I would rock my own child/ren in that chair. 
So when Brett and I decided "the time" had come to start our family...that rocking chair was my goal :)  It was front and center in my mind. 
I couldn't WAIT for the day we would make this purchase that I had always dreamed of.

I never thought it would take 10'ish years of trying to have a family for the dream to become a reality.

When we finally got pregnant with our first twins, I was excited, yet guarded.  So...we waited to buy that chair.
The waiting ended in the loss of our babies.  And it hurt to have never had a moment in that chair with our precious, fought for children.

When we got pregnant again with Zac and Evan...this time I wasn't waiting.  I told Brett that this was the present I wanted for Christmas...even though we bought it before then :)
Brett bought me that chair.  We brought it home.  He set it up in our living room. 
And I glowed with joy and pride.
I finally had a rocking/glider chair. 
I would rock my sons in that chair!
And every single day of the time I had with my pregnancy...I rocked in that sweet chair.
I rocked my boys together inside of me.  I wrapped my arms around my fast growing belly and smiled.
I told our boys how very much they were loved, desired, dreamed of, hoped for, wanted.  How excited we were to bring them home!

I never imagined that this chair would never experience both of my sons, together.
I never imagined the story this chair would hold.
I never imagined the tear stains it would hold. 
I never imagined...


The days I was able to come home on a 5 hour day pass from the hospital during those terrifying days after rupturing with Zac...I would come home, and sit in that chair, and pray, and cry...and rock.  And wrap my arms around my crazy big belly, and feel my boys kicking and rolling around.  Still believing that both of our sons would come home through the end of this fear.  Still holding to hope that both of my sons would be okay.
I prayed that this chair would experience the tender moments of me with Zac and Evan together in my arms.  That there would be spit up from both my boys.
That as they grew they would sit and play in this chair together.
That this would become THEIR special spot for us to read together, to calm sad moments, to lay weary heads on my shoulders as they would both drift off to sleep.

The days after I finally came home from the hospital after having the boys, and Zac going home to heaven...I entered our house and I cried.  I went to that chair...alone.  Without EITHER of my sons. 
I sat there and cried that this chair would never again know both of my sons.
I sat there and cried in fear of whether Evan would come home or not.
I sat there and cried as I sat in that chair...alone. 
Empty.
Devastated.

Yet...this chair brought me comfort.  Though my dreams were broken and my heart was a mess and life was forever changed...the chair still brought me comfort.

I thought of each of those days I sat in that chair.  Together.  With our sons.
I thought of every. single. one. of those short days.
Of the dreams I had, and now the prayers that my heart was screaming out to spare Evan's life.
I clung to the preemie outfits we were given for both of the boys before we knew the outcome.
I cried to God to hold Zac, Ethan, Jack and "Whisper" together in His arms, and to rock them together and tell them all how very much we loved each of them.  How grateful we were...ARE, for each of their short lives. 

When Evan finally came home 66 days later after the boys were born...that chair became OUR spot.  Mine and Evan's. 
So many cuddles. 
So many snuggles.
So many times I would rock Evan until he would fall asleep in my arms.
Content.  Loved.  Home.
So many tears I cried over Evan...tears of gratitude and joy and blessing.
So many prayers whispered over his little life.
So many giggles and laughs and stories read together.
Our moments.
Together.
In the glider chair I dreamt of.
Oh how I adore and cherish those moments and memories.
Tucked tightly in my heart and mind.

So when I was in Evan's room the other night (2 to be exact) cleaning up some toys and stuffed animals, I looked at the glider chair that has been mine and Evan's comfort chair since the day he came.  I realized that we have used it together MAYBE twice in the last 6 months at least.
And I realized...the time had come.
The time to allow Evan's room to become all "big boy", and that the time of the glider chair to live in his room had come to an end. 

The tears were literally welled up in my eyes as I carried that treasured glider chair up to our bonus room.
On that chair, a very special blanket given to me from a dear friend in memory of Zac.
That blanket remains on the glider chair.

Now the glider chair has become MY special place.
My place to go and remember days past and days lost.  Memories gained and memories treasured.
My spot to go and rest my head and feel the comfort of that chair.
With a special blanket I wrap around me and close my eyes and see Zac's eyes as he looked at me his short days of life.
The chair that I had dreamed of for so many years.

Do I wish I might have the chance to rock another child in that chair?
Yes, of course I dream of that.
Will it happen?
Only God knows.

But for now I am just so grateful for all that I have been blessed with.
And the memories that this chair holds.

I love that chair, and moving forward and taking it out of Evan's room was a HUGE thing for me.
Moving forward is never easy. 
It's scary to see how fast time passes.
It seems like yesterday I rocked with boys my sons growing inside of me.
Like yesterday that I would rock daily with Evan once he came home.

Man, I love that chair.