8 years old. Happy Birthday Boys.

10/07/14: 
This day 8 years ago was the hardest day of my life. My baby boy was born at 20.5 weeks after 22 hours in labor. I got to fly in a helicopter and see the beautiful sun rise that day. It was beautiful. Until the next painful and equally terrifying contraction came. I labored for 20 hours without medication. The doctors just told me to let it happen. But I couldn't. I didn't want it to happen. I wanted him to stay safe inside... At the end of that horrible labor out came a tiny little reflection of my husband. A precious boy who turned his head with the last of his strength just to turn toward the voice of his daddy. He held my finger and listened to my heart beat as he drifted off to his eternal sleep. But even in that horrible sorrow I was FULL of joy and pride for my first born son. Those of you in the hospital with us remember how I wanted to show him off. My eyes were alive, there weren't tears (for a short period of time) there was just a LOVE I had never felt. Like one that took your breath away and made you breathe all at the same time. He made me a mommy. And while it doesn't hurt everyday. It hurts today. I'm glad I got to love him. Hold him. See him for the blond perfection that he was. Bruised and battered couldn't keep his beauty from me. I love you my precious Jonathan Lawrence. Happy Birthday

10/08/14: 
Today 8 years ago you came into my life. Unlike the day before, your birth was a beautiful, peaceful calming experience. Even though I knew you would die I was excited to meet my other baby boy. You didn't like being in the womb after Jonathan left you. You moved around like you were frantically looking for him. Your labor was fast. I knew you were coming so I called my mom and dad to come back to the hospital. Then the sunrise came, beautiful and colorful and shortly after you did too, feet first into the world. I was filled with peace. I loved you so much in that moment. Daddy cut your cord and me and grandma Keillor gave you a sponge bath. How can something so tiny, without the use of his lungs live for over and hour. I don't know, but you did. Your resemblance of mommy just about stopped my heart. Your brown hair and long face kept me staring. I listen to your heart slowly beating in step with mine. It is an hour of my life I will never forget. It was when peace and tragedy actually felt tolerable and you were mine. You'll be mine forever. Today may your golden birthday be as golden as the sunrise the morning of your birth. I love you Edwin. Shine strong little one.

Blog Post for Mental Health for Parents

I had a good upbringing. I lived in a positive, encouraging and supportive home with two parents who loved me and I felt secure. I was secure in who I was as a girl. I didn't always 'feel' pretty but I knew that my heart was good and that someday I would meet someone who would love me for me and make me feel beautiful by the way he treated me. But for the awkward days of the early teens I had acne, I was ugly. But my heart shined through. My good heart was beautiful. I had confidence with who I was and tried not to let the 'ugly' or the bullies get me down. But it was during those awkward years that I found out that I had an abnormal reproductive system. That there was a kink in communication to my ovaries. So I had to deal with that. We didn't try any remedies to attempt to repair the problem. I just took medicine to get a period. Well years later, I did find that one man who made me feel complete and beautiful. He was warned by my mother that we may not have children or could lose children because of my 'issues'. He still wanted a life with me. Thank God! After some testing (now as an adult) we discovered that the 'issue' I had been dealing with since puberty was identified as hypothalamic amenorrhea. A condition that halts ovulation. Well 3 years after we were married we went to a fertility specialist and to our surprise the first cycle of treatment worked like a charm. And it was twins! I was excited. I didn't think of anything going wrong and had confidence that we'd see them to the end or at least until the projected 36 weeks. But at 19 weeks I got sick, they got sick and tragically I delivered them at 20 weeks and they died. I was changed. My confidence was shaken, my security was ripped from my body and my mind. I was broken. The next months of dealing with the grief were horrible and finally I started on an antidepressant. After 6 month I was coping and living. After a year my husband and I thought we were ready to try again. So we tried. And the cycle went perfectly. Pregnant again. But after a short 5 weeks it was over. Lost. I think I can successfully self diagnose that I was dealing with post traumatic stress disorder. I wanted to know what it felt like to be a mom. I mean, I am a mom but I want to feed and change my babies, teach them the abc song and love them up when they get a scrape. I was a mother, but a broken one. My innocence of enjoying pregnancy and all the hopes and dreams of it were ruined. The next time we tried I was excited to try but not excited for the results of the test. I was terrified. I can't do this again... And the test was positive. I had to be strong. Then we found out it was one. Then we found out it was a girl. And up until the 20 weeks gestation where I was with the twins I wasn't connecting with my baby. I wasn't ready to give my heart to a baby who I might lose tomorrow. For all I knew that could be her fate too. I had anxiety and sadness over carrying this baby longer than the twins. That THIS baby would have all the firsts. That THIS baby I would hear cry first, change her diaper first. Rock her to sleep first. All of these things kept me from loving her. Thankfully most of these feelings left once she was safely in my arms. Christmas morning, 2008. I had a moving, breathing baby in my arms. I was filled with joy and sadness all at once. As I rocked her I told her of her brothers. I told her I loved her. I told her that she was helping to heal my broken heart. My beautiful heart that would be filled with joy and laughter because of her. Filled with memories because of her. Filled with wisdom and pride because of her. And while she (and time) has healed my heart and given me the opportunity to be a mommy here on earth, my heart will never be whole. But it's a whole lot easier with her in my arms