Krispy Kreme, Pirates, and Dakota

Thursday, September 20, 2018

I didn’t think I needed yesterday to be different than any other day.  I didn’t think I needed love and support.  I just thought I wanted to eat donuts with my family and remember my baby boy who was spending his 3rd birthday in heaven.  I just figured I’d throw the invite out there and set my expectations low.  After all, it has been three years.  To me, his Mama, it is still so fresh.  But I figured everyone else had moved on and we would just celebrate Dakota with a few friends and eat a donut or two.  Boy was I wrong.

It all started back in 2013.  That’s when I first heard about National "Talk Like a Pirate Day.”  Well, if you know me… you know I have a sweet tooth.  And Krispy Kreme donuts are just one of my many weaknesses.  So when I heard about an opportunity for FREE DONUTS, just for dressing up like a pirate, I was all in.  Eddie and I took Jaden when he was just 2 years old.  We threw together a costume from what we had on hand.  Just enough to get one dozen and snap a photo of our fun day, and eat a few donuts together as a family.  We arrived early, expecting a line out the door and around the corner.  We are talking FREE DONUTS, people.  We arrived early.  There was NO ONE in line.  Did we get the date wrong?  No, its just that most people work or kids are in school at 10:00am on a weekday morning.  So, we happily ate our donuts and chatted with a family at the table over from us.  They were a family of 5, a home school family (and a part of the Shivers BBQ family at that… bonus for the day: They told us to check out Shiver’s and we soon did and we love it to this day).  I’m getting off track.  I’m making this story longer than it has to be.  This wasn’t supposed to be about food.  Bless you if you are still reading.

Moving on to 2014.  I wasn’t going to let Pirate Day pass me by!  We had friends in town from Costa Rica and I was babysitting a friend’s daughter, so our crew of 9 dressed up in our pirate best and headed over to Krispy Kreme once again on this September 19.  We walked away with 5 dozen this year because of our 5 little pirates… and we promptly shared a few dozen with people hanging out in the Home Depot parking lot looking for work.  We wanted to share the love… and the donuts.

Next comes 2015.  Now, I’m pregnant with Dakota and we are planning our annual trip to Krispy Kreme on Pirate Day… Sept. 19.  On the evening of September 18th, I started feeling some intense contractions.  Dakota wasn’t due for 4 more weeks, so this was a bit shocking. We headed home and started packing our bag for the hospital.  Well actually, Eddie ran around the house trying to gather everything on my list that I had intended to pack for the hospital.  At least I made a list.  We tried to get some sleep, but at 2 am, we had a friend get Jaden and headed to the hospital.  4 hours later, they sent me home with the news that my doctor was out of town and would be back Monday.  See you then!  We headed home to try to get some sleep and follow the instructions of “just go about your plans for the day” (Krispy Kreme and a friend’s birthday party) and hopefully we will see you in a few days.  Nope.  2 hours later, and no sleep later… we were back in the car headed to the hospital.  No Krispy Kreme… we were going to meet our baby boy, kiss his face, hear him cry, see him fight for his life, and kiss him goodbye.  The day was a whirlwind but so many details are engrained in my brain forever.  I’ll never forget his soft hair, his chubby hands, his perfect face!  But we only had a few hours with him before he was gone.  It was over so fast, but it wasn’t over.  Grief never quite goes away.  Grief doesn’t have an expiration date.  But healing can come and share space in your heart and make room for lots of joy to squeeze it’s way in over time.  But it never wipes that grief away completely.  Our day with Dakota was filled with family and friends who loved us, loved him, and love Jesus.  That was exactly what we needed.  We were loved and cared for and looking back I can dwell peacefully in the fact that it was all a part of God’s plan.  Even way back in 2013, when we so wanted baby #2 to be added to our family, and we waited and prayed.  God had a plan for us that was unfolding in ways that we could never have imagined. I would have never chosen that path had it been up to me, but now I wouldn’t change a thing about that path because I know that I am more like Jesus because I carried that baby boy and held him in my arms and was held by my church family and friends as I collapsed in grief that September day in 2015.

The next day, a sweet friend brought us Krispy Kreme for breakfast, and more sweet friends brought us Shiver’s for lunch.  We were showered with so much more… I’m not sure why food is the focus of my memory right now, but bear with me.  There is more to this story.

I spent time over the next few months whenever I had a chance to make a photo album for my baby boy.  I wanted it to be perfect.  It had to be perfect.  It had to have every detail so I could always look back and never forget.  For you see… this was the only photo album I would be making for my baby boy.  The self-imposed pressure was heavy, ya’ll.  I shared my frustration with my friend that I “hadn’t had time to finish Dakota’s book” and that I wanted to.  She reminded me that I should feel free to spend my days working on that book if that was how I wanted grieve and heal, but that this didn’t have to be the one and only book I made for him.  What?  What are you talking about?  How could I make any more memories with him?  And then she gently shared that she made memories of her son who had passed away at age two every year by celebrating his birthday in a small special way with friends; and that, over the years, I might want to do the same.  Not sure I could think that far ahead, I let that advice rest for a moment and then brushed it away.  Back to obsessing about this one perfect book.

On to 2016.  This is where the joy started squeezing it’s way in and grief had no choice but to make room for it.  God had blessed us with our sweet rainbow baby, Carmen.  She was born just 6 weeks before Dakota’s birthday.  So, Pirate Day was approaching.  It was now Dakota’s day, and we as a family decided that this would be a perfect way of celebrating his life each year: donuts!  We shared our plan with family and friends and all over the state of Florida, New Jersey, Indiana, Michigan, North Carolina, and even Canada… people we loved dressed as “make-shift” pirates, headed to the nearest Krispy Kreme or Dunkin Donuts and snapped a photo and sent it to us to remind us that we are loved and that Dakota is not forgotten.  Dakota’s impromptu 1st Birthday party overtook the dining room of our local Florida City Krispy Kreme. Tthere were about 30-40 people who joined us in person that day, and countless others who sent photos to show their love and support too.  We felt that God was continuing to heal our hearts, and these people were sacred tools in His hands.

2017.  Plans were made.  Pirate Day was coming!  The Birthday Celebration was planned… and then one very important detail popped in to my mind.  Hmmm…. Was Krispy Kreme still doing Pirate Day?  Let me check.  A few researching minutes later, I was disappointed to find out that Krispy Kreme had in fact decided to go in another direction.  New promotions were happening monthly.  Free donuts were given out for other special days in the year.  And Pirate Day was just a memory.  Well… We went ahead as planned and dressed up.  Friends treated us to donuts and we mingled around the Krispy Kreme restaurant and talked about my sweet boy, his life and how much he meant to us.  Again, we felt a bit more joy and looked forward to heaven and being reunited with our precious baby once again.

Now… for the point of this whole big long Krispy Kreme saga… 2018.  I was hesitant to continue the tradition.  A friend mentioned it to me at church and asked what we were planning.  At that point: nothing big.  I figured the four of us would maybe dress up if Jaden wanted to, we would eat donuts and have a quiet day remembering Dakota, and telling Carmen about him.  She is just getting old enough to start listening to stories like that.  Then I checked my calendar.  There was no school.  Jaden would be home with us all day.  We COULD continue the pirate-birthday tradition of celebrating Dakota and invite friends once again.  A decision was made.  Let’s do it.  I put a post on Face book detailing the time and place, and opened the invitation.  I set my expectations low, but just wanted to do this for my kids, especially.  Eddie agreed to dress up once again, and I had an actual costume to wear (thanks to free stuff “yard sale” lying around for the taking at our church a few months back). 

Outfits laid out… thoughts of “I should warn Krispy Kreme we are coming… nah… they aren’t going to run out of donut just because of us.”   In our pirate costumes, Dakota’s photo album in hand, we made our way to our favorite donut destination.  Upon our arrival, we were asked if we wanted to be seated.  Confused, we declined and said we would order first and then find a seat.  Upon turning around and actually looking at the dining room, we discovered a beautifully arranged pirate party set up.  It was roped off and waiting for the arrival of the party guests. 

“Did you call for a private party?” 

“No, that wasn’t us.”

 [Glances around at all of us dressed in pirate costumes]. “Are you sure?”

“Well, I don’t know.  Maybe a friend called.  Who is the party for?” 

“I don’t know, I was just told to set this up.  Corporate has been calling us all morning to

make sure we were ready for you.” 

“Berrios. “

“Yes Berrios.  This is for you!”

Cue waterfall.  I burst into tears and then they said “Oh, and they told us you would cry!”  What?!?!  Who!?!? How did you know???  My wheels were spinning.  Who did this?  A few friends flashed through my mind, but no one knew.  Okay, well we were going to have to figure this out later.  We had a party to attend.  And Dakota to remember.  Friends to thank later for remembering our baby boy’s 3rd birthday in heaven.  Time to order donuts. 

“You guys can have any thing you want. Drinks, donuts, anything!” 

“Oh we will just have some water.”

“No… order anything you want.  It’s on us.  Do you want some frozen coffee, hot coffee, latte, juice?  What ever you want.  We were told not to charge you a dime.”

We felt so honored and loved and not forgotten.  Guys, it stared with just a phone call, and it snowballed into us being treated like royalty.  But, we still didn’t know who was behind it all.  And I was afraid I was never going to find out. 

As we mingled with friends, our kids ran around and pretended to be pirates with all the treasure and pirate goodies provided. They watched the donuts being made, and looked through Dakota’s photo album.  I couldn’t stop smiling.  Yes, I expected the tears, but this.  This was unexpected joy.  I just looked around at friends who have joined us in past years, new friends that never met Dakota and now want to hear his story.  I just basked in the glimpse of heaven.  I felt my baby boy looking down on us and saying, “See, God loves you and I love you. And I can’t wait to see you up here in heaven.  But, here is a little bit of heaven on earth.”  This small act of thoughtfulness points to God’s bigger act of sacrificial love.  If my friends on earth can love me this much, how much more does my Creator love and cherish me?  Maybe it’s a stretch for you to see this, but my heart has been opened a little more to the way God works. 

So who did this?  You guys, this is the amazing part.  This part of the story started even before all this pirate drama.  Back in 2011, our neighbor in Raleigh, NC had her car broken into.  Her suitcase with a lot of her valuables was stolen and she was upset and discouraged.  Eddie talked to the fellow staff at Lifepointe Christian Church, and asked them if we could help her out.  God’s people were gracious and generous as God is toward us, and we were able to share with her a bit of money to help cover the expense of replacing her stuff.  She was grateful and in turn has been outdoing anyone we have met before and since with her generosity and thoughtfulness.  She bakes cakes… amazing cakes! She made a birthday cake for Eddie, Jaden’s baby dedication cake, Jaden’s first birthday cake, cupcakes to support our fundraising to move to Costa Rica; then she moved to New Jersey and ended up making Eddie’s brother’s 40th birthday cake.  She is one of those friends who you think:  “How did I get lucky enough to have a friend like you?  What did I ever do to deserve a friend as thoughtful, generous and kind?”  And yet, when you talk to her… she points it all back to you.  She is humble and says that we were the ones who were generous and kind to HER.  Ya’ll, why can’t there be more people in this world like Kristen?  She exemplifies what it means to be self-less.  God has used her to minister to us in so many ways and yet again, so many years later.

So, how did we figure it out.  She called the store before we left the party just to check if it all went well.  She was Facebook stalking us hoping we would post an update… and we were slow to the punch.  When she called Krispy Kreme, her caller ID showed up.  One of the kind employees came and found Eddie.  Eddie had been playing detective and investigating trying to figure out who did this for us.  He was talking to the employees of Krispy Kreme, and getting all their names so that we could thank them for their kindness and willingness to go along with this crazy fun idea.  So he told us who it was, and the mystery was solved.  But we were shocked… but at the same time not surprised because that’s the kind of person she is: awesome! 

When I was home and all was quiet, I called her to thank her and tell her how much it meant to us.  She said it was just a phone call and that after she worked with the District Manager, she was so impressed with how nice she was to work with, that she didn’t stop there.  She took another step of thoughtfulness and made another phone call.  She called the corporate office to tell them how wonderful the manager was to work with.  And that’s where it ended for her.  When I told her, “Kristen, they didn’t let us pay for anything!” she was shocked too.  Little did she know that that second phone call would have a domino effect of kindness and that it would filter down to us even more.  The employees and managers of Krispy Kreme responded so kindly to us, and we don’t deserve it.  Does that sound like anyone else you know?  I never knew God could use a few donuts and kind people to remind me of his generous love.  To say the day was a success is an understatement.  Eddie, my mom, Jaden, Carmen and I were all able to celebrate our son, grandson, and brother in unexpected ways.  God taught me so much through that darkest valley of my life, but little did I know he wasn’t finished using Dakota and his life to teach me more important things.  If you made it to the end of this extremely long story, then thank you.  Go eat a Krispy Kreme donut.  They have a life-long customer in us.

The day ended with a few more special moments involving FaceTiming with my sister-in-law at his gravesite in Indiana, telling her memories of his birth story, and then some sweet midnight snuggles with Carmen as she woke up screaming and mommy had to comfort her… but she ended up comforting me as I lay on my bed with her on my chest just letting the tears flow.  I was missing my boy.  But I was cherishing my girl.  I was missing my friends who moved away.  But I was thankful for the friends who remain and for the reminder that true friendship can stand the test of time and distance.  Words cannot express all that my heart felt yesterday, but obviously I tried my best to let it all flow from my heart and on to the page where I can return and remember.  This story is not for you.  It is for me.  But if you can be touched by it… then: bonus.  Thank you for sticking with me.  I can rest peacefully now.

Happy 1st Birthday in Heaven!

 Sept. 18, 2016

Dear Dakota,

One year ago, at this very hour, I felt my first contractions. Those contractions would eventually bring you into our world for a few short hours. Precious hours. Too few hours. We only had less than a day with you, and it wasn’t enough.

Tomorrow, you will be celebrating your first birthday in heaven. I know there is no place more perfect to celebrate, so I am happy for you. But my heart is also torn in two. Here I am, sitting on the couch with your baby sister by my side. She probably wouldn’t be here if you were still here. But she can’t replace you or the memories I had hoped to make with you.

When Papi and I found out we were pregnant with you, we couldn’t wait to tell our families. We had been praying for you for 2 years, and we were so excited that our family of 3 was growing to a family of 4. Jaden was looking forward to being a big brother, and I was looking forward to all the baby snuggles I could get.  We didn’t know what the future held.

On the day we found out that you were a boy, we were also told some very bad news. We didn’t know how bad it was at the time, but you had no amniotic fluid. The doctors said that your sweet little lungs would never develop into healthy-oxygen-rich lungs so you could fill our ears with your powerful cries.

On the day you were born, instead of silence though, we heard a miracle with our very own ears. Though it was weak, we heard your cry. I savor the video where I can hear your voice. It was but only for a few minutes, but we praise God for those sweet moments. In your cry, I could hear you saying “Hi Mommy. Hi Papi. Hey big brother. I’m here. I can’t stay long, but I wanted to say hello.” You had no idea how much we needed to hear you. But, we also heard your “goodbye.” In your last breaths, we said goodbye to each other. Our only hope was knowing that one day we would meet again. As I held you in my arms, and set your head on my shoulder and snuggled your body, I knew it was the only time I would be able to snuggle you… to hold you in my arms… to smell your sweet skin… to feel your soft baby hair. I knew Jesus had you in his arms, but it didn’t make my arms feel any less empty.

A year has gone by since that day, and a lot has happened. Many tears have been shed for you, but I know you have also seen the many smiles. God has blessed our family with your baby sister. She is here. She is healthy. And she is already 7 weeks old. Every day that goes by, I can’t help but think that she was our gift from you. I think that while you were sitting on Jesus’ lap, you said, “My Mommy needs a baby to love and to hold. Can you give her the most perfect little girl so her heart can heal?” And, you know what? Jesus heard you. He heard our prayers. He used you to change our hearts and He used Carmen to heal them.

I wish so badly we could have taken you home from the hospital, fed you in the wee hours of the night, and changed countless diapers. I wish we could have seen your smile and watched you learn to roll over. I wish I could have been there for the moment you became mobile and crawled across the room. I wish I could hold your hand as you took your first steps. But I am comforted by the knowledge that Jesus is holding my hand as he holds yours. Through Him, we are still connected, and will one day see each other again.

I hope your 1^st Birthday in heaven is as special as we would have tried to make it here. I hope you and Grandpa Boender are celebrating together. We are going to dress like pirates and eat Krispy Kreme and remember you for your 1^st Birthday. We are going to celebrate your life and the sweet moments you were here with us. Mommy and Papi love you so much. And your big brother still misses you. He wants to go to heaven to see you. And I can’t wait to tell Carmen all about you when she is a little older. She is our rainbow after the storm… the dark days after you were born and we had to say goodbye. She helped to bring the sunshine back into our lives. So much of her is because of you. We all love you forever!

Love,

Mommy

Adversity is GOOD

May 28, 2016

It was a year ago today that a routine doctor’s appointment turned into what felt like a death sentence for our unborn child. On May 28, 2015, we were told that Dakota’s chance of survival were “zero” and to end his life.

“It is good for me that I was afflicted, 

that I might learn your statutes.”

Psalm 119:71

May 29, 2016

Early Sunday morning, I woke with realization that a mere date on the calendar was about to come crashing down on the delicately-rebuilt-emotional-stability I was in.  I realized that one year had come and gone since the day we were told to end our unborn child’s life.

“It is good for me that I was afflicted, 

that I might learn your statutes.”

Psalm 119:71

As I went about my morning routine, I didn’t think it would affect me so much.  But, as I arrived at church and sat down to wait for service to begin… my thoughts returned to that fateful day.  As we sang songs of worship and I listened to a sermon about why we go through adversity… I was hit like a ton of bricks.

For the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to remember that day fully. I revisited the excitement of that week before.  We were expecting to discover our baby’s gender in the 20-week ultrasound.  Instead, we were told there was no amniotic fluid so they couldn’t see anything in the ultrasound.  I returned for what I understood to be a routine ultrasound and was alarmed when I was being sent directly to a perinatologist for a more specialized ultrasound.  I didn’t even know what a perinatologist was at the time: (Perinatologists are obstetricians and gynecologists with special training in high-risk pregnancies. They are also called maternal-fetal medicine specialists.)  I had no idea the gravity of the situation and was not prepared for the worst news I could ever be told: “Your baby most likely won’t survive.  We recommend termination.”

I remember telling Eddie, “I know women who have lost babies to miscarriage.  I know women who have had stillborn babies.  I know women who have suffered with infant loss.  But I don’t know anyone who has been told to terminate their baby’s life.”

I felt like Eddie and I were about to walk down a road that no one I knew had ever walked before.  I felt lonely and lost and confused and heartbroken.  I actually wanted the pregnancy to end on its own just so I didn't have to make a decision.  Little did I know, but I had several friends who had been told that exact thing by their doctor, and I would meet several other women over the next few months who had been told that same thing.  They became my support and my companions as we walked through this terrible nightmare.  I also learned that I didn’t have to automatically do what the doctor recommended.  I had someone bigger to answer to: The Great Physician.

Little did I know that day one year ago, that God was about to walk with me through my darkest days and bring me out stronger and closer to Him on the other side.  There I was, 20 weeks pregnant with a baby that we had been trying to conceive for 2 years… and a doctor telling me to throw his life away so I could “begin to heal quickly and start over.”  Start over?  Start over?  No… this was the baby God gave me and I was not going to just scratch his life out and start over!

Now, here I am today, one year later, carrying our rainbow baby, 30 weeks pregnant, and rejoicing in both the joy and the sorrow that my God carried me through over the past year.

You see, I was a wandering soul.  Yes, on the outside, I looked like the picture of what a good pastor’s wife should look like.  But my bible and my heart were dusty.  My relationship with God was distant.  Yes, on the outside, I went through the motions.  I followed the rules.  I went to church.  I taught Sunday school.  I prayed before meals.  I stayed away from the “big” sins.  But it wasn’t personal.  God was about to get real personal for me.  My need for God didn’t change, but what did change was the realization of my deep need for God.

As I sat and listened to the sermon, I realized how thankful I am for the past year.  Yes, the memories were heartbreaking to trudge up, but the joy I feel on the other side is so worth the pain I walked through.  Suffering drove me to Jesus.  Suffering lead me to see my deep spiritual need.  When I needed Him most, He didn’t reject me… instead, He called me to His side.  He wrapped His loving arms around me and carried me when I felt I could not go one more step.  That’s what Jesus does.  He came to save the needy and the lost.  God used Dakota’s life to renew and restore my rusty heart.  He used Dakota to draw me to Him in a way I had never realized I needed before.  He used Dakota to grow my faith and strengthen my trust in Him.  I could not be who I am today without the journey I traveled while carrying my baby boy in my womb while my God carried me through the nightmare.

“It is good for me that I was afflicted, 

that I might learn your statutes.”

Psalm 119:71

Danny shared Psalm 119:71, and I share it three times here because it struck a chord in my heart.  Yes... I have learned to be truly thankful for the suffering I endured because I know what it did to my heart and my walk with Jesus!

As the sermon wrapped up and the service ended, Eddie led the band in one final song that flooded me with yet more memories.  You see, worship and worship music had become my lifeline during that time.  It became the only way I could feel peace during those long sleepless nights.  Before that, I was the worship leader’s wife who didn’t really worship during those times of singing to our Savior.  I was easily distracted… I often arrived late and missed most of the music… I just didn’t always value that time in my own spiritual walk.  But on that day, something changed.  Music and the words we sang became my direct prayers.  When I didn’t have the words to worship, the songs and lyrics helped me to lift my eyes and my heart to the One I could depend on.  I often stood in church with tears streaming down my face as my husband led me (and the rest of the congregation) in worship.  My need for God became personal.

Now, as he sung a song that he had sung many times before, I was yet again over come with emotion as I worshiped my God and Sustainer:

“Christ Be All Around Me”

-Michael W. Smith

As I rise, strength of God
Go before, lift me up
As I wake, eyes of God
Look upon, be my sight

As I wait, heart of God
Satisfy and sustain
As I hear, voice of God
Lead me on, and be my guide
And be my guide

Above and below me
Before and behind me
In every eye that sees me
Christ be all around me
Above and below me
Before and behind me
In every eye that sees me
Christ be all around me
Whoa...Whoa...Christ be all around me

As I go, hand of God
My defense, by my side
As I rest, breath of God
Fall upon, bring me peace
Bring me peace

Your life, Your death
Your blood was shed
For every moment
Every moment

As I reflect on the past year and look joyfully into the future, I rejoice in the fact that God’s plan is always greater than our own.  No, if given a choice, I would not have chosen to surrender my baby boy to the arms of Jesus.  I would have kept him here on earth, to watch him grow, to watch Jaden become the big brother he is so ready to be… but that was not His plan.  God knows what is best, even when we don’t see it.  I really believe that for my life and for yours.  Now, I am able to trust Him more fully with EVERY aspect of my life.  I am thankful for the many gifts I received in the last year:

•         Friends, both new and old, who were there when I felt most lost and alone
•         A chance to hold and kiss my sweet baby boy before he was ushered into the arms of Jesus
•         Memories of hearing his cries and knowing he was a miracle, no matter how short his life was here on earth
•        Being surrounded by our church family even when our families couldn’t be there
•        A renewed faith and trust in God
•        An experience that God will use to touch other women and families who travel a similar journey
•        A husband and best friend who journeyed this unknown territory with me, and a marriage that is stronger for it
•         A renewed appreciation for Jaden and the joy he brings to our lives
•         A healthy pregnancy and anticipation of growing our family by one little bundle of pink
•      An un-medicated natural birth that gave me confidence in my body to try a homebirth this time around
•      A battle with the insurance company that resulted in approval of our midwife and planned homebirth
•      The chance to purchase our first home and the peace God has given me in this process that I formerly lived in fear of
•      The many prayers lifted on our behalf and the people that continue to be an encouragement to us

These and so much more.  I have so much to be thankful for... my heart is full!

Mother's Day 2016

28 Weeks - May 9, 2016

Mother’s Day was yesterday.  Mother’s Day has a whole new meaning to me now.  I was kind of taken off-guard by the emotions that would wash over me this day.  Before Jaden was conceived, I remember Mother’s Day being painful for a few years.  Eddie and I experienced a desire to have a child, and we hoped patiently each month for a positive pregnancy test.  15 months passed by before we finally rejoiced at those two blue lines.  After Jaden was born, Mother’s Day was transformed to a more joyful occasion; but, the memory of that pain was still present.  I thank God that he has given me the gift of empathy for the childless women who face Mother’s Day with a painful ache in their hearts.

This Mother’s Day brought with it a whole new set of emotions.  I gratefully celebrated my sweet boy who is here with me, but I also mourned my sweet baby who is in the arms of Jesus.  As I read the Mother’s Day card Eddie wrote for me where he mentioned our “three children,” the tears poured down.   Dakota is gone, but not forgotten.  And on a day like Mother’s Day, he is remembered ever so fiercely!   The pain is fresh, and I didn’t see it coming.  It gives me a whole new perspective on Mother’s Day and the many other women who are also grieving the loss of their children.  Although the pain stings, I also thank God for it because it expands the circle of women with whom I can empathize with in the pain of this day. 

But, it doesn’t end there.  I also realize that God has given us each a woman who birthed us.  Mother’s Day isn’t just about me; it is about the woman who gave me life.  I’m thankful for my Mom and each passing day I have with her in my life. 

And… I can’t forget my sweet girl, Carmen!  She is giving me the gift of motherhood all over again, and this Mother’s Day was another chance to celebrate her.  I’m celebrating her life, her health, and the way God has already used her sweet presence in our family to bring us joy and healing.

And, as you can see: this girl is growing!  I feel huge… and I am only just beginning the third trimester.  Well… I am thankful she is growing and pray that she is born healthy and strong. 

As we enter into this final 12-week stretch, I am beginning to feel a bit more anxiety.  Almost like I am fearful of reliving all that we went through with Dakota all over again.  I know that the fear is of Satan and not of God, so I ask for prayers for continued strength that only God can fulfill.  I choose to place my trust in the One that carried me through the storms in the past and who promises to never leave me. 

The rollercoaster of emotions I felt while pregnant with Dakota have been mirrored in this pregnancy.  Feeling grief and loss while also feeling hope and joy for the future makes for a very unpredictable, emotional, pregnant woman!  Sometimes I think, “I can’t do this” and then I realize that I am so thankful that I get to do this!!!  God has blessed our family with this sweet little girl, and I can’t wait to see her face.  Truthfully, I also can’t wait to be done being pregnant! 36 weeks with Dakota, 5 weeks of healing, and now 28 weeks and counting with Carmen.  It still baffles my mind when I stop to think about it…

Physically, I am still feeling pretty good, but I am starting to feel a level of exhaustion that I’ve never felt before.   Although my body is tired, I think much of the exhaustion I’m feeling is mental.   I can’t help but think about all the packing and moving and unpacking and settling that I hope to do before she is born… and then I need a nap after just thinking about it.  I’m praying for God to help me to focus on just taking one day at a time.  I’m reminded of the passage in Matthew, and I think I need to plaster it on my mirror so I remember it everyday: “Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?” Matthew 6:27.   (Not that I want to add a single hour of being pregnant either.)

My normal pregnancy symptom is here: heartburn… but it is nothing a few Tums can’t handle.  As the summer heat creeps in, I look forward to spending my days feeling weightless and keeping cool with Jaden in one of his favorite places to play: the pool!  And… never before have I felt so aware of my baby’s position in my womb.  She is sometimes head-down… and other times feet-down… and let’s just say that I can definitely tell the difference.  I would prefer her to stay head-down and kick me in the ribs than the alternative!

As always, I thank you for the many prayers still being lifted on our behalf.  Eddie and I are so grateful for the body of Christ and the encouragement that is poured over us more than we ever expected. 

A Slice of Heaven... err... Melon

Revelation 21:4  “ ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”

April 5, 2015:      “This early Easter morning we said "Goodbye for now but not forever" to my dad. I know he is celebrating with Jesus this Resurrection Sunday, and our family is gathered together in remembering an amazing father, husband, and grandfather. He will be missed, but we are praising God for his grace and peace during this time. He is faithful, and my family is an amazing reflection of that faithfulness. I am so thankful for this time with him. After a 9 month battle with cancer, he got a new body this morning. Praise God for the hope we can have only in Jesus our Savior! I will miss you, Dad!”

It was the Saturday night before Easter Sunday.  The six of us kids, my mom, and many other family members gathered around my father’s bedside.  My brothers took turns telling Dad some of their favorite memories from their childhood.  We were all together… just being present together.  We gathered around a man who loved God and loved his family and honored them both with his life.

As the evening drew to a close and the hour was late, many went home to go to bed.  I know each of my brothers left reluctantly, but they had a family to return to.  We all headed to bed, and my sister and the night-nurse took up their evening watch over Dad, trying to keep him as comfortable as possible.

Around 4 in the morning, his breathing took a turn for the worse.  It became evident that the end was drawing near.  That early Easter Sunday morning, my Mom and my two sisters and I gathered around his bedside, holding his hands as he took his final breath here on earth.  It was 4:30 am, and later the pastor would point out that it was the women in his life that surrounded him… and it was an image of the women in Jesus’ life who first discovered His empty tomb (John 20)

The tears were shed, but for two very opposite reasons.  We cried and mourned in sorrow as we said goodbye, but we also cried tears of joy knowing that this was the way he would have wanted to go.  He was ushered into heaven the very day we remember and celebrate Christ’s resurrection and conquering of death.  What a glorious morning so many years ago… and what a glorious morning for my Dad last year on Resurrection Sunday morning.  He saw the face of Jesus, and we cannot be sad for him any longer.

But, we are sad.  Sorrow is still cutting.  Tears still fall.  Hearts are still broken.  Because here on earth, we do not yet experience the full beauty of heaven.  We wait expectantly for that joyous day, but in the present, our human bodies and emotions still grieve the loss of a beloved husband, father, brother, and grandfather.

April 5, 2016:

Fast forward one year to this morning; around 4:00 in the morning, my pregnant bladder wouldn’t let me sleep any longer.  Then, my busy brain wouldn’t turn off.  I resolved to make this "awake" time productive, so I turned to my “to do” list.  (Mind you... this is not a normal routine for me... I usually would just toss and turn until I fall back asleep)  I slipped out of bed and into the kitchen.  A few light housekeeping chores could be completed until I was ready to go back to bed.  I started with emptying the clean dishes out of the dishwasher.  I moved on to making the guest bed with the freshly washed sheets that I did not have the energy to tidy up last night.

I made my way back into the kitchen and saw a cantaloupe on the counter.  I had purchased it yesterday at the grocery store, but that is not my regular “go-to” fruit.  But, it was on sale and it looked good to me, so I bought it.

As I stood there in my kitchen, I thought “I’ll just cut this up and it will be ready to eat tomorrow and in the coming week.”  As I sliced through the sweet fruit, a flood of memories about my dad came to mind.  Now, I don’t know why, but melon always reminds me of my dad.  Maybe because it was one of the fruits I remember him prepping in our kitchen growing up.  Maybe its because he loved to eat it.  I’m sure my mom cut up melon in the past too, but for some reason I only remember Dad doing it.  As I cut it up, I reflected on Dad.  Then I remembered the date.  Then I looked at the time: 4:30 am.  Then I just smiled and thanked God for this sweet moment to reflect on happy memories with my dad.  I have not lived at home near my family in Indiana since 2002, so my time spent with them is limited to a few weeks out of a year.  My day-to-day life doesn’t bring me face-to-face with my hometown or people I grew up with.  Therefore, I know my siblings experience far many more daily reminders of Dad and his absence in their lives than I do.  But, early this morning, God gave me the gift of a simple memory of my Dad.  I will cherish it, and imagine my baby boy sitting on his grandpa’s lap as they enjoy the indescribable beauty of heaven and God’s face.  Maybe Dad is sharing a slice of melon with his grandson Dakota… and one day I will have the pleasure of joining them.

Psalm 27:4-5  “One thing I ask from the Lord, this only do I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to gaze on the beauty of the Lord and to seek him in his temple.  For in the day of trouble he will keep me safe in his dwelling; he will hide me in the shelter of his sacred tent and set me high upon a rock.”

1 Peter 1:3-9  “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God’s power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls.”

Happy 3 Month Birthday, Dakota! - Birth Story

 “And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”  And he who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.” Also he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.” And he said to me, “It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end.  To the thirsty I will give from the spring of the water of life without payment.”

 Revelation 21:3-6

 It is hard to believe that 3 months have passed.  Truthfully, I have experienced a bit of “mommy-guilt” that I haven’t taken the time to post Dakota’s Birth Story before now.  I wanted to get it “just right.”  I realize that pressure is self-imposed and unnecessary.  I share Dakota’s story to make sure his memory lives on, to open doors for conversation, and to tell you all that I could not get through this with out my faith.  God has written Dakota’s story better than I ever could.  He has turned tragedy into joy, mourning into dancing, and sorrow into laughter.  We know that our Lord and Savior is caring for Dakota in ways we never could.  Here is his birth story:

Dakota’s Birth Story: A Timeline of Events

Friday, September 18, 2015

8:30am: Before Jaden went to school this morning, we made sure to take time to snap our 36-Week family photo.  Little did we know what the next 36 hours would bring.

3:30pm: We arrived at Miami Children’s Museum to take advantage of the Free 3^rd Friday Event.  Jaden had a blast, and we are thankful for that special day with him.  I spent as much time sitting as I could because I was having Braxton Hicks contractions through out the day.  I loved being there to see his face, even if Eddie was the one to actually play with him and chase him around.

6:30pm: On our way out of the museum doors, we received a phone call from some good friends from NC. They had called to pray over us, and we were finally able to connect. It was so comforting to hear their prayers and words of encouragement.

7:30 pm: We went to Target to buy a birthday gift for a party the next day.  While in Target, I felt my first painful contractions. I told Eddie we needed to go home so I could get in bed because my “Braxton Hicks” contractions were getting painful.

8:07pm:  We got in the car and I started timing my contractions. They came every 2 minutes for the next 15 minutes as Eddie was driving us the 45-minute drive home.

8:30pm:  That made Eddie nervous, so he called our good friend Megan who has experience as a midwife.  She recommended I drink some water and call her if they continue once we are home.  She also offered to be available if we need to drop of Jaden.

9:00pm: I laid down in bed while Eddie put Jaden to bed, and then he started packing our bag for the hospital.  I had written a list of what to pack, but I hadn’t started packing at all.  He had to do it all!  I continued to time my contractions.  They were coming every 4-15 minutes.  They were very sporadic, and not getting any stronger or weaker.  Once he finished packing our bags, Eddie asked what else I needed him to do.  I thought of the “Birth Plan” that I had written/copied from the internet.  It was 3 pages long and needed editing.  I had it on my “To Do” list for weeks: “go over birth plan with Eddie.”  I was planning on taking it to my next pre-natal appointment to review it with my doctor.  We took a few minutes to read it together and discuss each point.  We agreed on what to keep and what to scratch off.  When we finished, he asked if I wanted him to pull it up on my computer and edit it.  The fact that we still didn’t have a funeral home picked out to add to the final draft drove me to say, “No” and in my head I was thinking: “I will finish it later after we pick out a funeral home.”  Can you say: CONTROL ISSUES!?! 

11:00pm: I gave into sleep and quit timing the contractions.  I slept restlessly for about 2 hours while my contractions continued and kept waking me up.

Saturday, September 19, 2015

1:00am: I woke up to Eddie just finishing cleaning up the bathroom after cutting his hair and showering.  I told him that I think we need to go to the hospital.  He called my doctor and got a call back from someone (he doesn’t remember who) telling us that we should go to the hospital.  He called our friend Alvaro to ask him to pick up Jaden and bring him to Megan’s house.  He started packing the car.

1:30am: We headed to the hospital and called Eddie’s aunt on our way.  She is a doula, and had expressed willingness to be by our side through this.  His aunt and uncle headed out the door to meet us there.

2:00am: We arrived at the hospital and realized that we didn’t know where to go.  We had been meaning to visit, but it hadn’t happened yet.  So we went to the Emergency Room door.  A nurse took me in a wheel chair to Labor and Delivery, and they instructed Eddie where to go park the car.

2:15am: They put me in a bed in triage and hooked me up to a fetal monitor and monitored my contractions.  They told me that my doctor was unavailable until Monday, and that a different doctor was covering for him.  I had never even asked my doctor what to do if he wasn’t available.  I had never even heard of this on-call doctor!  And now the nurses were making faces when they said his name.  It did not give me a good feeling about him.

2:45am: The nurses told me I was dehydrated, and gave me a pitcher of water and instructed me to drink it all.  I admitted that I had not drank much all day the previous day because we were at the museum and I just didn’t drink enough water.

3:00am: A familiar face poked her head around the curtain.  It was a woman from our church who works in Labor and Delivery and happened to see my name on the patient list. She was so encouraging and calming, and even helpful as I got nauseous while she was visiting. Eventually they had to hook me up to an IV to get fluids in me try to re-hydrate me.  The nurse had checked my dilation when I arrived, and I was only 2 cm.  They checked an hour later and I was 2.5cm-3cm.  They checked again an hour later and I was still the same 2.5cm-3cm.  Since I was not progressing quickly, my contractions were not getting closer together, and they were not increasing in intensity, they decided that I could go home if I wanted to.  I was uncomfortable and would rather be at home in my own bed anyway.  We didn't think Dakota was coming today.

6:00am: After fluids and being encouraged to drink more water, they sent me home with the theory that my contractions were due to my dehydration and that they would subside if that was the case.   If not, they would continue and intensify and I would know that was true labor.  The “goal” was for me to go home and come back sometime after Monday when my doctor was available.  They also gave me the following instructions:  When your contractions are 2-3 minutes apart, lasting 1 minute long, for an hour, then come to the hospital because that is real labor.  I struggled to walk to the elevator and out to the car, as my contractions continued. 

6:30am: I was back in my own bed and continuing to time my contractions.  They were intense, but not lasting very long.  I tried to sleep while Eddie snoozed next to me.  He hadn’t slept all night, so I really wanted him to sleep.

8:00am: After 1 ½ hours of trying to sleep but having contractions every 4-10 minutes, I got up and sat in a chair in the living room.  I wanted Eddie to sleep as long as he could, and I needed to make some phone calls.  I also found an app on my phone that could time my contractions and also time how long they lasted.  I set it up and proceeded to see that they were 6-8 minutes apart and lasting only 20-40 seconds… not “long enough” to be considered "real" labor. 

First, I called Megan to tell her what was going on.  I had to put the phone down after 4 minutes and get through a contraction. Then, I called my sister.  Within a 12-minute phone call, I had had 2 contractions that I had to set the phone down to get through.  She said she was going to look for a flight out today.  Then, I called another friend to let her know that I was not available to serve in the kid’s ministry on Sunday at church, but that she was welcome to come and get the bag that was prepared for the lesson.  Again, I had to put the phone down to get through the contractions.

I knew I wasn’t going to be able to go about my day as planned even though the nurse and Eddie’s aunt had told me to go about my normal routine as a could.  I was thinking that there is NO WAY I can even leave the house, let alone go do all the many things we had planned for that day: a meeting at 9:00 at church, a birthday party at 1:00, National “Talk Like a Pirate Day” at Krispy Kreme, and a staff party at 5:00.

9:30am: I decided that Megan’s suggestion to take a shower sounded good. I woke up Eddie, gave him my phone, and asked him to continue timing my contractions as I yelled to him from the shower.  Some of them were 2 minutes apart, and some were 8.  Some lasted 20 seconds, while others lasted 50 seconds.  I couldn’t imagine one lasting a whole minute! I was in labor but still not believing it.  The shower felt so good, but I was ready to lie down again.   

10:30am:  I got dressed and lay down in the bed.  No sooner than I did that, and I felt sudden pressure.  I could feel his head!!!  I told him that we needed to go to the hospital, but after three contractions in a row where I couldn’t get out of bed in between, I yelled to Eddie: “You need to call an ambulance!”  So guess who he called instead: Megan!  He put her on the phone with me and she asked me if I really wanted him to call an ambulance.   I said, “No, I want to get out of bed and get in the car, but I can’t.”  She said, “OK, if you can get up, get in the car, and go.  If not, then call an ambulance.”  That was all the motivation I needed, and I got up and slowly made my way to the car.  Eddie was frantically packing the car again, and brought it right up to the bottom of our 19 steps that I had to slowly walk down… all the while imagining one of our neighbors walking out their door to find us slowly making our way to the hospital.

10:50am:  We left for the hospital, and while Eddie was driving out of our neighborhood, suddenly he was yelling out the window, “We are going to the hospital!”  I opened my eyes to figure out who he was yelling at.  It was our friends who were going to be hosting the birthday party that Jaden was invited to later that day.  As he drove down the turnpike, Eddie asked me who he needed to call.  He called his parents, his aunt, my mom, my sister, photographer #1, photographer #2, and photographer #3.  Only photographer #3 was available, and I was shock to have needed to call all three.

As Eddie drove, he told me he only broke two laws: speeding and running a red light.  He also told me that he kept looking down at me to see if the baby’s head was coming out.  That was the longest 25 minutes of my life!

11:15am:  We arrived at the hospital, thankful that we knew where to go after our “practice run” just hours before.  Eddie wanted to come in with me, but I just knew this baby was coming soon and I didn’t want him to miss it when he had to leave to park the car.  I insisted he go park, and that I would be fine taking the elevator up to the 2^nd floor. He reluctantly complied.  I exited the elevator to a waiting room full of people.  A lady said “Does she need help?” and she got up and yelled to the guard, “We need a wheelchair!”   The guard us brought one, and she wheeled me to the labor and delivery desk where I quickly signed the forms they put in my face and handed over my identification (which I knew I needed to have with me after our first go-around 9 hours before).

11:20am: She wheeled me into triage and I got into a bed.  As the nurse checked me, she yelled, “We have a complete here!”  The next thing I know, there was chaos.  I had my eyes closed and was just trying to endure the contractions.  They brought me down the hall to Labor and Delivery Room #8, and Eddie was still not there.  They moved me into another bed, and told me they were waiting for the doctor to arrive.  They shoved a few more forms in my face to sign, and introduced me to the head of the NICU team, Dr. T.

11:30am:  Eddie arrived to a flurry of activity in the room.  He set our stuff down amid the 8-10 people who were hustling and bustling around me.  As he made his way to my side, he asked, “Excuse me.  What is going on?”  The nurse replied, “ Your wife is 10cm, she is going to have this baby NOW!”  He quickly asked, “Will she have a chance to get an epidural?” In the back of my mind I knew it wasn’t likely, but I was waiting for her response with an ounce of hope.  She said, “No… it is too late.”  The Neonatologist team came in, and Eddie pulled out the edited birth plan that we never got a chance to revise and reprint.  Eddie knew it was important to me, so he sat with the doctor who was in charge of the NICU team and reviewed the 3-page birth plan that we had scratched out and edited but not re-printed.  Dr. T took the time to read it and felt that he had a good idea of what we wanted.  Looking back on that… I am in shock that he took the time to do this, just minutes before Dakota was born!

11:45am:  Once everything was ready and the doctor was in place, they instructed Eddie to come on my left side and hold one leg.  A nurse held the other.  Eddie was getting pretty emotional watching me be in pain and hearing me screaming as I was instructed to start pushing.  At first, I did a whole lot more screaming than pushing.  A nurse said to me calmly, “OK, shhhh. Less screaming. More pushing.”  I listened and within 5 pushes, he was here.

11:51am:  Dakota is born!  They put him on my chest for about 30 seconds and I could see him and hear him cry.  It was weak and labored, but he was breathing! Eddie cut the umbilical cord, and then they took him over to the warming station and started to clean him up and help him to breath better with oxygen.  They instructed Eddie to cut the cord again, and they got an oxygen tube in his nose and wrapped him up while the doctor finished with me.  Once Dakota was stable enough, they brought him over to me and let me hold him for about 20-30 minutes.  All the while, he was crying weakly and moving.  I cried and kissed him and cried some more.  It all happened so fast that I could hardly believe that he was already here… and he looked so big for being 4 weeks early.  He looked perfect!  10 fingers, 10 toes, cute little ears, precious nose, and pink little lips. We didn't find out until much later, but he was 6 lbs. 2 oz. and 19.5 inches long.

The photographer was able to join us then, and she took some precious pictures and video.  The Neonatologist even grabbed my camera and took some pictures of us too. Thankfully, Megan arrived at the hospital soon after we arrived.  She had Jaden there on time to meet Dakota as soon as possible.  She brought him in to meet his baby brother.  He was so excited.  He couldn’t take his eyes off of him.  Soon, I felt the urgency of the doctors to take him to the NICU to further assess him.  Eddie went with Dakota, and Megan stayed with Jaden and me.  After they took him away, Jaden was walking around showing everybody Dakota’s footprints.

The first visitors to be let in after that were our pastor and youth pastor from our church.  They hadn’t seen Eddie leave the room following the Neonatal team and Dakota.  As they walked in, and heard snippets of conversation, our pastor’s face registered a look of shock as he exclaimed: “What?!? He’s here? Dakota’s born already?!?!”  Haha… I don’t know why he thought it was okay to be in the room if Dakota hadn’t been born yet.

After that, it was a blur.  Several people arrived, including Eddie’s parents and aunt and uncle.  So many people from church came, too.  I couldn’t believe how many people had arrived in such a short period of time.  Most of them had been at the 9:00-11:00 meeting at church that we had been planning to attend. Two of our good friends were in Orlando at Disney and headed back to Miami as quickly as possible. 

I was told I could get up to go see Dakota in the NICU after only 2½ hours of recovery… which I was thankful for.  No epidural = quicker recovery.  Eddie finally returned and said that they were waiting on some chest x-rays to see what his lungs look like.

When Dr. T finally came to talk to us, Eddie’s aunt was there with us.  She listened along with us to what the doctor had to say about his condition.  He was breathing at 80% oxygen, and hoped for 95%.  He said a lot that I don’t remember, but I understood that we had to make a decision.  Dakota was breathing and moving better than expected, so the doctor gave us a 50/50 chance that putting him on a ventilator would help him.  There was risk of causing a leak in his lungs, but there was also a chance that the ventilator would help his lungs to develop.  If we tried it, we would know in the next 3 days or less if it was going to help him or not.  The chance to DO SOMETHING was too tempting.  It was the first “hopeful” words out of a doctor’s mouth since his diagnosis 4 months ago.  We felt we couldn’t pass up this chance to allow the doctors to try to save him.

More hours passed, and we got word that the ventilator was in and that he was breathing at 90%.  Our little miracle baby was improving.  They were waiting on the next round of x-rays now that the ventilator was in, and we had to wait to see him. 

Once the next x-rays came back, we were told he had a small leak in one of his lungs.  That meant they had to put a chest tube in to release the air.  It started to sound scarier and less hopeful, but we were patiently waiting for the doctors to let us know when we could go see him.  In the mean time, we were moved to another room. 

Around 5:30pm: Shortly after settling into the new room, we got a phone call from Dr. T.  He said Dakota was not doing well, and we could finally go and see him.   When we got to the room, we saw our son hooked up to so many machines with wires and tubes surrounding him.  I couldn’t help but reach out to him and touch his sweet head, his feet and his hands.  I just held his hand and rubbed his head and said “I love you!” over and over again.

In the meantime, the nurse told me that Jaden could not come back to see Dakota until they had a copy of his vaccination record.  I didn’t know I needed this, so I frantically thought about where it might be.  Thankfully, I had just sorted through a stack of papers on my desk that week (which I never do because I have gotten lazy).  I had just filed that paper in the drawer and knew where to find it.  I called Megan and asked her to locate it and send me a picture of it.  Within 20 minutes, it was emailed to the nurse and they let Jaden in to see Dakota.  Praise God… Our God who is God even in the smallest of details!!!  The nurses also agreed to let Eddie’s mom and dad in too (even though only 2 people at once were allowed).  As they brought Jaden in, I panicked because I realized I had not prepared Jaden for what he was going to see.  He was about to see Dakota hooked up to all these machines and tubes and wires all around him.  I was afraid it would frighten him, but thankfully he seemed pretty calm about it.  He was willing to touch his hand with me and just looked around at all the machines.

Those very machines began telling us that his numbers were dropping.  When I looked at them, I saw the number 60… minutes later I saw a 50.  No one had to explain to me that that was bad news.  Doctor T. explained to us again what was going on… but none of it registered to my brain.  I was numb.  It felt like he was talking for an eternity, and I couldn’t absorb anything he was saying.  But I knew what he meant: it was time to take him off the machines.  I just wanted to hold him, so I was ready for that.  I asked if we could wait until my mom and sister arrived, but he said he might not even make it that long.  They were scheduled to fly in at 8:30pm to Ft. Lauderdale.  It would be 9:30 or 10:00pm before they would arrive at the hospital.

6:15pm:  We signed the papers to release Dakota from the life-sustaining machines.  God gave us both a sense of peace knowing that we tried everything we could… the doctors tried everything they could.  It just wasn’t meant to be. We look back and are thankful that we didn’t have to agonize over this decision for weeks or even days.  We knew it was time to say goodbye.

The nurse let me help put an outfit on Dakota, wrapped him in a blanket and carried him to another room.  The “transition room” they called it.  I sat on a couch with Eddie and she placed my sweet baby boy in my arms.  I held him, and then Eddie held him.  Eddie’s Mom held him, and his Dad held him.  Our friends Megan and Christina were in the room with us.  I don’t even know if anyone else was in there with us.  Soon, I had him in my arms again, and then the doctor came in to check his breathing. 

7:15pm:  The doctor told us he was gone.  There I was, surrounded by my family and friends, and Dakota was gone.  It was a moment I knew was coming, but was so heartbreaking.

Over the next few hours, the nurses allowed 50+ people to come a few at a time to see us and see Dakota.  I don’t know everyone who came, but I do know that each person who came was there to celebrate Dakota’s short life.  The love that we felt from our Core family was overwhelming!  I am so thankful for all the people who cared for us in that time.

I’m thankful for the nurses in the NICU too:  Allison and Jennifer.  They were so caring and compliant with anything we needed.  They went above and beyond what was expected.  Never once did they make me feel like we were inconveniencing them.  Never once did they turn a loved one away.  They cared for Dakota and our family so well. 

The nurses said we could give Dakota a bath and change his outfit.  The first outfit got blood on it from his chest tube being removed.  So we picked out another outfit for him to wear.  It was a little jungle outfit with a monkey on his butt.  Jaden wore it when he was a newborn, and he expressed that he wanted to share it with Dakota.  It fit him so perfectly.

The nurse helped Eddie and I bathe Dakota.  It was the one of the most emotional moments of the day.  Erika was there to photograph this precious time with him.  She encouraged me to hold him skin-to-skin, and once he was on my chest, I was filled with memories of holding Jaden just the same way.  I realized this was the only time I would get to hold him like that, and I was overcome with emotion.  My heart aches to hold him once again!  Erika gave Eddie and I some time alone with him then.  We wept together like we never have before.  

My mom and sister arrived around 10:30pm.  They were there to see Jaden finally take an interest in Dakota.  I really wanted a picture of the boys together, and Jaden wouldn’t have anything to do with him.  But after we put the cute monkey outfit on Dakota, Jaden was willing to sit on the couch with him.  

He lay down on the couch, and we put Dakota down on a blanket next to him.  Jaden spent the next 20-30 minutes just wrapping and unwrapping Dakota with the blanket.  He snuggled with him and made him “comfy.”  He wrapped “Patches” the stuffed animal up with him, and helped Dakota to “pet” him.  He said he was “teaching him to do this” as he demonstrated a thumbs up.  Those minutes where Jaden was able to play with him while he was “sleeping” were so precious.  Soon, we told him that we had to say goodbye to him.  He then stated, “I think he died now.”  My four-year-old son was processing the death of his newborn baby brother.  How is that even possible?  Why did it have to happen like that?  We said goodbye around 11:30pm, and the nurses took him out of the room.  It was so hard to let him go, knowing I would never hold him in my arms again.  I had less than 12 hours with my son, and now he was gone.

God has you in the palm of his hand.

Isaiah 49:16

Now, three months later, people are still asking, “How are you doing?”  I’m still grieving, but also healing.  We have felt so much love and support from our family and friends that some days go by that I don’t even cry anymore.  I think about him and miss him everyday, but my heart is healing.  My heart still breaks when I think about Dakota, but only because I selfishly wish he was still here with our family. I wish he was still here for Jaden to play with because I know Jaden could be such an amazing big brother.  I wish I could hold him, snuggle him, change his diaper, feed him, comfort him when he cries, and even lose sleep caring for my new-born baby.  But then I remember that he is in the most wonderful place ever:  he is in the presence of Perfection, unconditional love, and he is free of pain and tears.  He is with Jesus!  He can celebrate Jesus’ birth this Christmas while looking face-to-face with our Savior.  The song “I Can Only Imagine” has a whole new meaning to me now when I think about how Dakota doesn’t have to imagine anymore.

As I drove home from my 6-week post-partum check-up, that song came on the radio.  It reminded me of a memory I had with my baby boy while I was still carrying him.  “I Can Only Imagine” had come on the radio when I was driving to one of my pre-natal appointments.   That day, as I listened to the song, I realized that my baby boy might possibly see the face of God before I do.  I broke down at that thought and prayed for his miraculous healing so that wouldn’t happen.

Fast forward to 6-wk.-post-partum: that song came on precisely as it began raining.  It was one of those South Florida sun-showers.  As I noticed the sunshine along with the rain, I searched the sky for a rainbow… a symbol of God’s promises that He never breaks.  Sure enough, to my left, there was a beautiful rainbow arching across the sky.  Not 5 seconds later, it was gone.  God put that rainbow in the sky for me to see.  I know it was Him reminding me that He loves Dakota more than I could even love him.  I had such a peace knowing that God not only loves Dakota, but He is still loving me!

Thank you all who have been praying for us and reminding us that we are not forgotten and that Dakota's life mattered.  We wouldn't be at this stage of healing without God, the people He has put in our lives, and the ability to share openly as we walk this road of grief.  Please continue to pray for us as we hope God can continue to use Dakota's life to soften other's hearts and be open to receive Him.