A New Year

You have turned for me my mourning into dancing;
you have loosed my sackcloth
and clothed me with gladness,
that my glory may sing your praise and not be silent.
O Lord my God, I will give thanks to you forever!

 Psalm 30:11-12

 I have had such a hard time writing this blog - wanting to say the exact right words.  But I'm not sure it's possible.  I cannot say that I am sad to see 2012 go; it was a tough one.  But, really, it was pretty good, too.

Highlights:
- Got to meet and hold my sweet Graham.  I will remember those 4 hours with him for the rest of my life and I am truly grateful for that time.  It was so peaceful and couldn't have been sweeter.  And to top it off - he was beautiful!
- Got to experience true community.  The support that we had from friends, family, and even strangers was overwhelming.
- Matt and I got to go on a cruise with our good friends Victor and Linda.  And it was a perfect vacation to just relax, sleep, and eat.
- I turned 30 and was thoroughly spoiled by my sweet, sweet husband.  He really is the best.
- I started a small little side business (Padged Designs) and it has been really fun making pretty things.
- We were able to fund a well in Uganda in Graham's honor.

2013 is looking up, too.  A trip to Disney World in March, Matt's graduation in May, hopefully a new job, city & home soon thereafter, and a baby in August!!  Thank you Lord for your good gifts.  We are truly thankful.

Saving Lives this Christmas

I've had a lot of people ask me about how we're doing during the Holidays.  It's a common question, for sure, but I don't really have a good answer.  Maybe I'm in the minority here, and it may change at any time, but I don't feel like my grief really differentiates between holidays or not.

I feel just as sad as I did on a random Tuesday in August, and sometimes I feel just as happy and joyful as I did on a good weekend in September.  It's a roller coaster, and it stops for no one or no thing. 

All that to say, I do feel like I need to do something for Graham this Christmas.  We are busy looking for things for Parker, getting excited with him about Christmas lights, and using green & red sprinkles on everything.  But our sweet Graham isn't here to do those things with. 

So, we've got another idea.  What if we could save lives in Graham's honor?  What if we could take the money we would have spent on Graham this Christmas - and in 2 months, his 1st birthday - and use it for others?

Well, in comes Holden Uganda.  Chet & Sarah Erwin lost their son Holden in August of 2010.  And ever since then, they have been saving lives by providing water wells for people in Uganda who so desperately need clean water.  Just look at some of these pictures off of their website for other projects that have been funded here.  These wells have the name of a sweet baby who was gone way too soon.

It gives me chill bumps to think of a well across the world with Graham's name on it - constantly providing clean, life-saving water to those in need.

Here's their mission statement off of their website:

Holden Uganda is a non-profit foundation founded in December 2010 to spread the love of Christ with people around the globe. Our mission is to provide clean drinking water, through Artesian wells, to African communities.

These wells provide HOPE. Between 500 & 2000 Ugandan people are given hope through clean drinking water with each well. Also, each well is dedicated to a baby or child who went to heaven before his/her parents, providing hope to the families.

So, here's what I'm asking you to do....HELP!

Matt and I will not be able to fund this well on our own.  At least, not for quite awhile.  But, we would love, if you would be so led, to help us get this well funded by Graham's 1st birthday (February 3, 2013).  Artesian wells cost anywhere from $1800 - $2400. 

There's a lot more information that I could give you, like the Erwin's story, or the fact that your gift is tax-deductible, or that 100% of your gift goes toward building a well.  But I will let you check it all out on their website, www.holdenuganda.org.

And if you are willing to help us, you can click on the Donate/Purchase tab, follow the instructions, and then you will see Graham Dugan's name on the drop-down list of Funds.

But whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.

John 4:14

..

Halloween

So, thanks to Netflix, Parker has discovered the late, great 1989 masterpiece better known as Super Mario Brothers Super Show.  It is as cheesy as you can imagine, but for some reason it catches the attention of our boy.

So this year, we started at the beginning of October talking to Parker about Halloween and what he wanted to be.  Pretty quickly we all decided on Mario, and we ran with it.

Inspiration:

Dugan Interpretation:

And just for fun, here's a look back at Halloween-past:

 2006

Tacky Tourists

2009

The Zookeeper and her Lion

2011

The Chicken



2nd Worst

{Continued from this post.}

We woke up on Wednesday morning, October 5th, hoping to find out this had all been a dream.  Or rather a nightmare.

The details are a little fuzzy in my head of this day.  I know that while we were getting ready for our doctor's appointments, I sat on the bed and wrote a Facebook message to a large group of our friends.  I needed to let everyone know what was going on and to ask them to pray.  Sometimes I look back on that letter and am amazed at my words.  Clearly the Lord had afforded us peace and comfort that could only come from Him.  During our whole time with Graham, He was so good to give us overwhelming peace and glimpses of Hope.  Here's an excerpt:

...

Being completely honest, I am so scared and also so very sad. Of course, this is not the way we would have liked all of this to happen, but we also trust in the sovereign plan of God. We are crying out to Him for a miracle, but we know that He loves and knows our precious baby even more than we do. And He will heal this baby. Maybe in not the way our flesh so desires, but our baby will be healed regardless.


I am not sending you this email for you to feel sorry for us. We are fine. We will be fine. We have the Prince of Peace. But I am sending you this email begging that you would join us in prayer. Our very specific request right now is that the tests would come back showing that the baby and I are candidates for the surgery. Please join us.

...

Even though, like I said before, the details are fuzzy from this day, I can still picture myself sitting on my brother's guest bed and crying big, fat alligator tears while writing this email.  It still didn't feel real.

We dropped Parker off at my niece & nephew's daycare (Sidenote: Another provision from God.  Their very nice and capable daycare allowed drop-ins and were more than willing to accomodate our situation.  They let Parker and Laurel see each other as much or often as they needed during the day so we knew Parker would feel comfortable). 

We made the long trek from Katy to the Medical Center in Houston where we first met with a genetic counselor.  There were no procedures to be done at that appointment, but this kind lady did want us to be familiar with all of the chromosomal issues that could be causing the baby's blockage.  Trisomy 13, 18, and 21 were all tossed around as possible issues.  There was a constant stream of tears as we looked through a book with her of the disorders and the fatality rates.  She told us that they could do a CVS placenta draw that day to test the chromosomes and see what is wrong.  It would also tell us the gender.  We agreed to the procedure, knowing it would give us insight in how to better treat our baby.

The next appointment was with our fetal intervention doctor, who did a very thorough ultrasound on the baby.  It lasted about 45 minutes, and then he asked us to go into the conference room next door.  Matt and I, along with about 5 other doctors, sat down at the conference table, facing an empty white board.  In the next 30 minutes, that white board became full of scenarios and percentages.

We were basically given 3 options:
   1) IF there were no chromosomal issues, and the bladder taps of urine proved that the kidney was somewhat functioning, and it was a boy, THEN we could go forward with a bladder shunt placement surgery.  However, it only offers a 60% survival rate.
   2) Do nothing, and let the baby pass on their own.
   3) Have a "procedure" done to "eliminate" the baby.

I remember sitting there, and every once in awhile, looking around at the doctors who were staring at the whiteboard.  Did they know they were talking about my baby?  Did they not see that this is a devastating conversation we are having?  How could they look so un-moved?

After the lengthy conversation, everyone left the room except for Matt and I.  They wanted to give us time to discuss everything, now knowing all of the information and all of the risks.

Can I let you in on a little secret?

It was easy not to choose Option 3.  We were not going to abort this precious life inside me.  BUT - there was a fleeting moment in all of it that I just wanted to choose Option 2.  The future looked bleak for this baby.  Why don't we just let the baby pass on their own, peacefully, inside my womb?  Do we really want to go through all of these procedures just to have a baby who would be so sick?  A baby who would need so much medical help for the rest of their life?

The Lord spoke to us during that time, though, and asked that we would walk this path - however long it took.  Whatever it looked like.  Whether it ended that day during the invasive procedures the doctors were about to perform.  Or whether it ended when this baby passed away at the age of 90 years old.

We were confident that the Lord was calling us to chase after life for this baby.  We knew that the whiteboard in front of us was nothing but bad news.  There was no hope.  The only place we could find true Hope was through God.  Isn't that what it all boils down to, anyways?  Christ Alone.

The decision was made to move forward with the needed procedures.  The doctors made sure that we knew that there was a risk with the following procedures, and that this could be the end right then and there if something went wrong. 

Believing the Lord was calling us to continue, I laid on a table with Matt on one side and a sweet Nurse Practicitioner on the other squeezing my hands while the doctors performed the 1st of 3 bladder taps.  It was surreal to be watching the ultrasound on the big screen TV mounted to the wall, seeing the same thing the doctors saw while they expertly inserted a needle into my belly, into the pregnancy sac, and into the baby's bladder.  They drew urine out to test and see if the kidneys were still working.  The next test was a CVS placenta draw where they went into my belly and actually clipped off a part of my placenta to send in for chromosomal testing. 

I remember that Matt and I were both praying, out loud, while the doctors were working.  I kept on repeating to the Lord, "You know."  He alone knew the days numbered for our sweet baby.  He alone knew what needed to be done.  He alone knew the issues that were causing the blockage.  He alone knew who the sweet baby was.  He alone was in control.

The rest of the day was a blur.  We set up more appointments with doctors in the coming days, and then headed back to Katy to see Parker and my brother's family.  All I wanted to do after those appointments was hold Parker.  I saw my baby up on the screen all day long and felt so helpless, unable to do anything to help him.  Towards the end of the day, and in the days (and months) to come, I found myself not even looking at the screen.  It is too much, sometimes, to see your sweet baby up there hurting while there is absolutely nothing you can do.

I know this entry is not the most upbeat thing I've ever posted on this blog, but I really did want to get all of this written before I forgot more than I already have.  If I count the Monday after Graham passed away - the day that we went to the funeral home - as the worst day of my life, then I count this day, October 5th, 2011, the second worst day.  It was such a very rough day for our family.

But know this - there were brighter days coming.  The Lord performed some miracles in our sweet baby's life.  Of course, we all know the ending of this story and we know that Graham is no longer with us.  But along the journey that started this day one year ago, there was still answered prayer and glimpses of joy. 

One Year

It is with such an anxious spirit that I write this post.  I've been dreading this day coming for a couple of months now.  I mean, I really have felt so much more emotional lately, and I think it's because of this "anniversary."

One year ago today, we were heading to the doctor to find out the gender of our baby.  I was 18 weeks along and finally feeling better than I had been.  The first trimester of this pregnancy was really rough.  I actually remember saying to Matt one day in the car, "I don't think I can do this again." 

We both felt like it was a girl.  Or maybe we just really wanted a girl, so we were being positive.  I did think that because I was so much more sick than I was with Parker, and because the heartbeat was pretty high at 14 weeks (172 bpm). 

We had to go to another office for the big ultrasound, and then we would head downstairs to my doctor's office to go over the scans.  As soon as the jelly was squeezed out onto my belly and the wand was waving around, I noticed something; the baby wasn't moving.  And there was a big, black spot on the screen.  The ultrasound technician asked me if I had been leaking fluid.  I told her I hadn't.  I said, "The baby isn't really moving."  She agreed and told me it worried her.  When I asked her what the big, black spot on the screen was, she told me it was amniotic fluid.

Ok, now I'm confused.

She told us that we needed to go ahead and head downstairs and see our doctor.  As we were walking downstairs I thought that maybe I was having some issues with amniotic fluid.  I told Matt that it worried me because usually that means you have to be on bedrest, and how would we make that work?  Can you tell that I didn't really realize how severe the problems were?  I don't know how or why, but I wasn't really freaked out yet.

We barely sat down in the waiting room when the nurse came to get us.  We walked into the room and there was our doctor, waiting for us.

I sat down, and I remember her patting my knee.  She told us that things don't look good.  It seems like there may be a cyst inside the baby.  I started crying, trying to understand what that means.  I told her it made me nervous to find out what was wrong, and she told me, "Me too."  That's when I knew things were really, really bad.  She told us that they had set up an appointment with a perinatologist later that afternoon, and hopefully we could get some more answers.

As we left that office, I remember that there were no hysterics.  Not much crying.  Just a lot of shock.  We walked to a quiet end of the hallway, and made some calls.  The bad thing about us going in for the gender ultrasound is that when people saw that we were calling them, they picked up excitedly, wanting to hear the gender.  I called my mom and explained what I knew.  Which wasn't much.  We called our friend Linda, because she was ready and waiting to find out the gender so she could make cupcakes for us to announce the gender that afternoon at work.  Matt called my office, to tell them I wouldn't be coming back in that day.

It seemed to take forever for us to get in with the perinatologist.  Even after waiting 2.5 hours for the scheduled appointment time, we still had to wait another 1.5 hours in the waiting room.  Once we finally got in and started looking at the baby on the big-screen ultrasound, it really didn't look good.  There was a heartbeat.  But no movement.  And a really big, black circle in the middle of the screen.  The doctor explained to us that it wasn't a cyst we were looking at on the screen.  The big, black circle was the baby's bladder, full of urine. 

Here's a bit of a confession:  Matt and I didn't know that amniotic fluid was basically just the baby's pee.  Babies pee into the pregnancy sac, then drink it, process it, and pee it out again.  One big, interesting cycle.  And a cycle that our baby was unable to do.

So, the doctor explained to us that it looked like there was a blockage somewhere that was keeping our baby from peeing.  Because the bladder was so swollen, they still were unable to see everything they wanted to see.  Including the gender of the baby. 

The doctor then gave us some options.  They could do a bladder draw that day on the baby, to help find out what was going on.  But I would also need a CVS draw on the placenta to see if there were any chromosomal abnormalities that were causing these issues.  She told us it was up to us, but that there were some doctors in Houston that dealt with these kind of issues often and would be able to do all of the testing needed.  She left the room and Matt and I just stared at each other.

Was this really happening?

We decided pretty quickly that we would go to Houston.  We would fight for this baby and do everything we could to preserve their life.

We came home and packed up our things as quickly as we could.  We had no idea how long we would be in Houston, so we were just tossing things left and right, hoping it would be enough.  We stopped by the local CVS Pharmacy to have the Ambien that my doctor wisely prescribed to me that day filled.  I am so glad we took the time to do that, because it ended up being invaluable.  I was a wreck and needed something to help me get some rest.

We pulled into my brother's driveway in Katy around 11:00 pm.  My face and eyes were puffy from crying.  I remember that my face literally hurt that day, and for the next week.  We put Parker down on the air mattress in Samuel's room, and then went straight to bed.  There was nothing left to do but rest and prepare for a full day of doctor's appointments.

{To be continued...}

Aware

October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month.  I really used to love October, and I think I still do, but it is just a bit heavier than it used to be.  Maybe you'll understand a bit more in some of my upcoming blogs.

Anyways, I wanted to post a couple of things about Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month right now, at the beginning of the month.

The first thing I would encourage you to do, dear reader, is to pray for those people you know who have lost babies - at any stage of development.  Sometimes it seems like we are grieving alone, especially for the mothers who had early miscarriages.  Someone pointed this out to me not too long ago, and it really resonated.  As Christians, we fight so hard against abortions.  We are Pro-Life - no matter how small the baby or early in the pregnancy it is.  Yet, when someone has a miscarriage, there seems to be a bit of an unwillingness to talk about it.  It's almost "taboo" to bring up.  If we fight so hard for a small baby to be saved, we should also grieve so much when someone loses a baby they wanted so badly.

This month, especially, I am praying for my friends who have lost babies:

Sarah, Sara, Kimberly, Candy, Christine, Leslie, Charlotte, Rebekah, Jenny, Sharon, Holly, Ginny, Amanda, Cynda, Valerie, Kimmy and Erin.

I know there are many more who I am probably forgetting, and some I don't know about.  If you have lost a baby, please leave a comment so I can pray for you, too.

Also, Mrs. Patterson, Southwestern Seminary's President's Wife, wrote a great article that was posted today about miscarriage.  I hope you'll read it here. 

If you've lost a baby, please know that you are not alone. 

If you haven't, but you know someone who has, please pray for them by name this month.  And if you do pray for them, please tell them you did.  There is no gift greater to a grieving mom than to know that someone remembered their baby.

Crafty?

Ugh.  My blog got too deep again. 

Here's the rub: My son, Graham, died.  I am overwhelmingly sad.  Jesus died on the cross for my sins, rose again, and is now seated at the right hand of God in Heaven.  I am thankful, grateful, joyful, and OK.

Does that make sense?  I think the byline on Angie Smith's book "I Will Carry You" says it best: The Sacred Dance of Grief and Joy.  Because that is now what my life has become.  It is a constant rollercoaster of emotions battling inside me.  I am grieving the loss of my son, while at the same time, seeing that there is oh so much to be thankful for here on this earth.  AND, more than that, the promise of Heaven is real.

I was telling my friend, Sara, the other day about how I sometimes feel guilty when I do something fun.  Or laugh at a joke.  I think it makes more sense when I can explain it to you in person (with my awesome voice inflections), but, in the midst of laughing or smiling I want to say, "But wait!  I'm still really sad about losing Graham!  I'm not OK - I am hurting.  BUT - that was funny!"

So, in an effort to tip the "scales" back the other direction, I wanted to tell/show you about my (possible) new hobby.  I've been looking on Pinterest at craft ideas a lot lately.  After a family trip to both Michaels and Hobby Lobby on Saturday I decided I wanted to make a fall wreath for our front door.

I started playing around with ways to make different kinds of flowers and rosettes out of felt, material, burlap and buttons.  This was on Saturday night.

On Sunday afternoon, while Parker was "napping," Matt helped me cover a D in burlap.  He also cut out circles of material so that I could make lots of different flowers.

The more I got going, the more comfortable I felt making it up as I went along.  I made all kinds of flowers, and then stuck them all on this wreath.

The thing is - the more I started working on it, the more I realized how fun it was!  And I kept on coming up with different ideas, but I could only do so much on one wreath.  Let's not get too crazy, right?  And since then, I've continued to think about what other things I could do and make.  Headbands, Clips, Frames, etc.

So, maybe I am "craftier" (if that's not a word, keep it to yourself) than I originally thought.  I have all these ideas floating and I'm ready to keep on working.  So if you want something - let me know!