Chasing Rainbows

This very time last year I was approximately 29 weeks pregnant with our little boy and anticipating our "perfect" life as a family of four with our princess and prince. And, well, you know the rest of the story...

Currently, a new chapter is beginning in our lives, and we are hoping that this one has a much happier ending than the last. However, this chapter is starting off with more twists, turns, bumps, and tears than the last started with.  As seasoned (much better word than damaged) characters we have been forced to  broaden our senses,  be more leery of our thoughts, and be more careful to think out our actions than in previous chapters of our lives. Our hopes are high, but our expectations are low. 

You see, we have lost our innocence that we once had...that we actually had just last year.

The loss of my innocence is often deafening...screaming out true possibilities and worst nightmares all while I'm working ever so fervently to focus on the positives and live with the passion and love that once was visible from the outside.

I long for the innocence of planning ahead and candidly discussing the future.

I miss the innocence of strolling through the baby aisles of a store and gently stroking a precious newborn outfit while picturing my sweet baby.

I ache for the innocence of thinking that "good things happen to good people" and "bad things happen to bad people"

My chest tightens when I hear of women having baby showers and decorating nurseries for their unborn babies...don't they know it's not promised?! I miss being one of these women. I truly do.

I yearn for the innocence in many things since losing our Wyatt, but today, I miss the innocence in pregnancy the most.

Today I am 25 weeks pregnant with our third child.

This time around has already proven to be very different.  I have been frightened to share our good news for fear of jinxing myself...because I now know that you are not always "safe" once you're out of the first trimester, or the second, for that matter. I have been referred to a maternal and fetal medicine specialist along with my regular OB. I have ten times more visits, ultrasounds, and tests scheduled for this pregnancy. Even though things appear to be going smoothly, I live with the fear of how much could actually go wrong, daily.

I want to be the old me.... I want to be the ME who didn't think twice about baby loss. I want to be the ME that daydreamed about what life would be like after her precious child was born. I want to be the ME who wasn't afraid to prepare a nursery or buy baby items in anticipation of the new little one. I want to be the ME who thoughtlessly uploaded BABY update apps to her phone and so eagerly read them in advance. I want to be the ME who excitedly discussed her pregnancy with other mommy's to be so easily. I want to be the ME who dreaded labor and delivery because of the "pain." HA, that "pain" is no comparison to the pain of burying your child.

I could care less about the nausea, tiredness, back aches, leg cramps, blotchy skin, weight gain, etc. I just want to hold my living, breathing, baby.

Because of my experiences, I am aware of the possibilities. With that said, I am truly trying my best to enjoy every kick, every pound gained, and every heartbeat heard. I am fighting off the anxiety while creating a secret door for the joy to enter and set up camp where it justly belongs.

Minute by minute. Breath by breath.


"Rainbow Babies" is the understanding that the beauty of a rainbow does not negate the ravages of the storm.
When a rainbow appears, it doesn't mean the storm never happened or that the family is not still dealing with its aftermath. What it means is that something beautiful and full of light has appeared in the midst of the darkness and clouds. Storm clouds may still hover but the rainbow provides a counterbalance of color, energy and hope.

Rainbow Pictures

19 weeks

 Baby # 3 @ 14 weeks

Baby # 3 @ almost 19 weeks

Baby # 3 telling Mommy that he/she loves her :)

 

Baby #3 waving (24 weeks)

 

24 weeks (face)

 

baby bump #3 (25 weeks)

 

"I don't care if it's a boy or a girl, I just want a baby."- Big Sister Lyla

 

 

This is where we are...chasing our rainbow.

 

Party Planning

Well, it's that time folks....time for me to plan the 1st birthday celebration of my little boy.

You might be thinking, "What in the world is she talking about?' And you have every right to be wondering, because, no, my son is not physically here to take part in his very own first birthday hoorah, but this momma will take this rare parenting opportunity to honor her son and remember his life on the anniversary of his birth and death.

I won't be needing to buy intense themed decorations, to book a location, to find a birthday outfit for the birthday boy, to plan and prepare elaborate party food and games, or to make sure he has that very special "smash" cake that is the highlight of every infant's transition into the world of toddler hood.

But this celebration will be about HIM, and will be planned to honor his life as well as support a great organization along the way.

So here's the rough plan:

My goal is to host a small balloon release in April at the cemetery where Wyatt is buried. Invites will be sent out closer to the time of the event, but of course, anyone is welcome to attend. Instead of a birthday outfit for the baby, shirts will be designed and ordered ahead of time for everyone to wear on Wyatt's special day.  If you think that you would be interested in purchasing a shirt or shirts email me at kdforgey@gmail.com and I will be sure to send out prices once I have gotten a quote.I am hopeful that family will participate in a few guitar-lead songs including the most important: Happy Birthday. Guests will be encouraged to write messages on their balloons before we all simultaneously release them into the sky and watch them float their way up to Heaven. As a nice treat, cupcakes and/or cookies will be served at the celebration as well. Anyone willing to speak to the group about how Wyatt has touched their lives will be encouraged to do so...and I'm sure this momma will have a few words to share. If you wish to be at the celebration, but are unable to attend, you may send a letter or card to be read aloud or a note to be placed on a balloon as well.

Calling all photographers!! If you are around the Fancy Farm area and would like to be apart of Wyatt's celebration by sharing your photography skills please email me! :)

Now, I mentioned an organization earlier in this entry. Remember those penny jars we've all been working to fill with our found pennies? Well, I have an idea...there's this organization called Molly Bears. It is a nonprofit organization that makes teddy bears of the exact weight of babies for families who have lost babies. I am now on the wait list for my Wyatt bear (it could take up to 14 months). The organization runs completely off of donations and the more money they receive, the more bears they can produce! So, back to the penny jars...in honor of Wyatt's 1st angelversary I wish to provide you with the idea of donating your penny jar collections (or more!!) to the Molly Bears foundation. The organization also accepts donations of (new) teddy bears for their efforts.  Wyatt may not be here to open his own gifts, but can you just imagine the looks on the faces of mothers and fathers as they open a package to find their "Molly" bear?!

Molly Bears Website

Closer to time, I will provide more information on how to do so, but for now, this is all food for thought....so let me know what you think...

An Earthly Loss, but a Heavenly Gain

"Death is a part of life."

I'm not sure how many times I have heard the above statement in my life, but it never seems to make me instantly wipe away my tears and say, "oh, yea, well I guess I should just get on with mine then."

Death may very well be a part of life, but it's usually not a happy part or a part most people enjoy discussing. And it's definitely not a part of life that we welcome into our lives and extend an invitation to, allowing it to take one of our beloved away. However, death is inevitable, and it has once again stolen a piece of my heart.

On the ninth month angelversary of our son, my sweet grandmother left this world and made her way (without a doubt) through those pearly gates of Heaven.

Now I can already hear the thoughts coming through the screen at me about how it is a different type loss because she was "old" and had lived a good life. I will give you that...she lived on this earth for 70 amazing years; 70 years in which she touched countless lives. But my heart still hurts, and my human soul still yearns to hear her voice.  She was a woman of tremendous strength, faith, hope, love, and compassion. She was my "person". You know what I'm talking about if you're lucky enough to have been blessed with a "person."  She never doubted me in all of my 27 short years of life thus far. She always poured her wisdom into my life in the most inconspicuous of ways.  She was my one-stop-shop for questions that ranged from cooking to religion.  She constantly stood as a beacon of hope and love for our family, especially for ME in the last nine months. And now it's up to me not to let her years of influence drift away with my grieve...my grandma's hard work and love WILL shine through.

My grandma was the last person to hold our precious Wyatt's body on this earth, and the first of us to hold him in the kingdom of Heaven. What an angelversary celebration that must've been. You see, just a few days before she passed she made it known to all of the family that we should be jealous of her. With confused looks on our faces, she continued to explain that she was closer than any of us to seeing Wyatt again...and she smiled. Through all of my tears, I am trying to find comfort in her words. I am forced, once again, to try and find the sunshine through the clouds and I am starting to do so by  imagining her, pain free, rocking my sweet boy in her strong arms as the angels sing her favorite hymns.

This world lost a remarkable woman, but Heaven gained a saint, and my little boy now gets to experience her love in all it's glory.

Looking Back-2012

To 2012-

Oh, 2012...I would like to simply say farewell and "Don't let the door hit you on the way out!" but you not only brought me sorrow and pain, you somehow also managed to bring me great joys and priceless memories.

I will admit, that it is more than difficult to pick out the good in the sea of bad (and just plain awful) that you have provided me with this past year, but I will do my best to point those out.

In January I was able to celebrate my 26th birthday on this earth with my sweet husband, darling little girl, and precious little boy kicking away in my belly. I also began, what I thought would be a short stint, as a SAHM in order to spend quality time with our Lyla before she was no longer an only child and before we would send her off to school in the fall.

February brought Valentine's day...my 10th Valentine's day with my love. I remember trying to find something "cute" to wear to dinner. Hah...I was approximately 7 months pregnant...there was nothing that would look cute at that point. It was an enjoyable night, never mind the severe heartburn that accompanied the delicious dinner we shared. Waylon was promoted to Tech Sergeant in the Guard and was hopefully soon to be transferred to a base a little closer to TN.

A baby sprinkle was thrown in honor of our newest addition in March and it was nothing short of wonderful. My sister, sis-in-law, and aunts did an amazing job of helping us to prepare for what we thought was soon coming...a little boy to cuddle and take care of. I was overwhelmed with love and gifts...and so was big sister Lyla!

April, oh April, not only filled my heart with so much love that I thought it could burst, but  actually made it feel as if it did burst, and crumble into a million and one pieces. We celebrated our Easter weekend the first weekend of April in SC with friends and participated in a beautiful wedding along the way. I was far from the most elegant bridesmaid you had ever seen, seeing as to though I was 9 months pregnant, but Lyla was a perfect little flower girl. I was able to announce to the world that my little brother was going to be a daddy and was excited that our Wyatt would have someone so close to his age to play with as they grew up. Our weekly doctor's visits had commenced and our anxiety levels were rising....we would soon meet our prince; and we did. On April 24th our lives changed forever, as silence enclosed around us. We met the most perfect little boy on April 25th, and after hours of snuggling and sharing him with others, we were forced to say our goodbyes. It's like someone gave a child a bright yellow balloon and then popped it before he had time to enjoy it. April 28th marked the day that we layed our son to rest in his eternal crib. April will always be a tricky month for me....full of an array of emotions, but it will always be Wyatt's month.

In May, I celebrated (if you can call it that) my first Mother's Day as a mother of 2, only problem being there was only one in my arms that day. I quickly realized I was becoming a different person than I was just one month before. I was forced to smile as others around me brought living babies into this world and into their lives as I was left with empty arms. I searched for ways to remember and help others to remember that Wyatt's life was significant.  Lyla's smile began to be my light through the dark tunnels and Waylon celebrated his 27th birthday. Wyatt had been in Heaven for one month.

Eight years of marriage to my high school sweetheart was celebrated in June; I am so thankful for him and his beautiful heart. He carries me when I cannot seem to walk. We also came upon another difficult holiday in June: Father's Day. Oh how I wished there had been a baby boy in my husband's arms that day. In June we began to find a little sunshine in each day, as a family. We attended weddings, family gatherings, and took spontaneous family outings. All of those things may seem simple, but to someone who was just learning to live again, they were large feats. I was becoming proud of our fighting family. We were fighting off grief while still honoring our son's short life. Our angel had grown his wings 2 months prior.

July brought about more holiday celebrations, visits with family, and days full of tears. It was storming on the 4th, so our little family of three went to dinner and a movie...what a wonderful night, although the pain of the missing piece was very adamant. Lyla and I spent a lot of time in Ky with family and friends during our summer vacation. We swam, shopped, played, visited little brother, and basically relaxed, all while surrounded by an abundance of love and support. Our sweet boy celebrated his third month with Jesus.

We took a short trip to SC in August in which we visited good friends and places. We indulged in a mini vacation in the mountains on our way home to TN. I sent my baby girl off to kindergarten with a heavy heart. Waylon and I became the proud GOD parents to a sweet little girl, a little girl, who has played a big part in many of my true smiles...you know, the smiles that can be seen in the eyes? I didn't know there was a difference in types of smiles until I looked back at photos of myself taken over the previous months. Wyatt had been an angel for 4 months.

September was a busy month, to say the least. Waylon was finally transferred to a guard base (a little) closer to home. Our lovely little princess celebrated her 5th birthday  and it was a wonderful day spent with family and friends.  Sweet friends drove from SC in order to be here for Lyla's big day and she was more than happy to have them here. Wyatt made his appearance in the form of a butterfly in one of big sister's gift bags; he must've known that I needed him at that moment...you see, for over a year I had pictured a baby in all of Lyla's next birthday pictures...our baby. Lyla's little cousin Lucian now also shares her special day, as my sister-in-law and brother welcomed their first child on that September day. Lyla decided to release a balloon after her party in hopes that it would reach her brother in Heaven. A sliver of happy news also made its way into our lives in this month.
 We were 5 months closer to seeing our son again.

Our annual vacation occurred at the beginning of October, in which we flew to California to spend time with great friends. It was a much enjoyed, much needed vacation. We traveled to Lake Tahoe and Calaveras State Park among other adventures. We enjoyed everything down to the plane rides.
Lyla had her first fall break from school, and was more than ready to return before it was even over. I somehow managed to pass two of my four needed tests that are needed in order to gain a teaching certification for the state of TN and even put myself on the substitute list for Lyla's school...oh my, I was stepping out.  Lyla decided to be a blue butterfly ballerina for Halloween and I reluctantly thought back to the cute puppy dog costume that had been waiting for our boy. Wyatt should have been celebrating his half birthday.

November brought about a big lump in my throat. How was I suppose to handle the holidays without my boy? He was suppose to have been here...maybe even trying a little bite of that delicious turkey! We spent Thanksgiving in Ky with family eating meal, after meal, after meal. I often pictured Wyatt at the family gatherings, and forced myself to hold back the rushing waters. All in all, November was an okay month. I began to sub more and met some very kind people along the way. I took Lyla to her first birthday party for a friend from school; she was ecstatic. Waylon plucked two angel tree tags from a lowly tree and we purchased Christmas presents for a boy and girl who otherwise wouldn't have had a gift to open. Our boy had been gone for 7 months.

In December, I passed my remaining two certification tests, and gained my license to teach in TN (finally).  I created a Christmas card to send out to the masses with the fear of leaving out our boy, so I included a picture of big sister and the pinwheel. That'll have to do. I reluctantly put up Christmas decorations and began to buy gifts in preparation for the soon approaching holiday. My hand wanted ever so badly to write "To: Wyatt" on a gift, just one gift. I forced myself to get into the holiday spirit, and Lyla helped me with that; she requested an Elf on the Shelf. To see her pure excitement each morning in December was enough to keep my smile plastered on my face for hours. We traveled to Ky for the holiday and spent it with family and friends. I was amazed by how much Wyatt was remembered throughout the festivities. My heart hurt, but felt pride all at the same time...I'm getting quite use to this feeling. We were greeted with a little snow the day after Christmas and had a fun time sledding on the farm. Our five year old princess lost her first tooth and seems all to eager to grow up. Wyatt should have woken up on Christmas day as a vivacious 8 month old.

As at least one tear has leaked from my eye everyday for the passed 251 days.

With that said, I can't count the number of smiles that have spread across my face this year.

It would feel wrong to say that 2012 was the worst year ever...I had a beautiful baby boy, spent another year married to my love, watched my baby girl grow into a little lady, and made lots of GOOD memories along with the bad.

I have been wounded and pushed down, but I have also gained strength and knowledge.

I have been shown love and compassion throughout this year in many expected and unexpected forms. So, it seems only right that my new year's resolution should be a simple one: pay it forward. I will strive to be kind to all and to spread hope, even when my hope is dimmed. I have learned that you simply never know what another person is going through and a kind gesture may change their entire day...if not life.

So I will leave my last blog post of this year with this: 2012, you were definitely not MY year,but you were another year in which my story has continued to be written, and for that, I am thankful.  I am excited (and nervous) to see what 2013 will have to add to that story.

P.S. please tell 2013 to be kind

7 Months and Christmas Lists

It's so easy to do..I close my eyes and he's there...sitting up on a blanket smiling and manipulating his colorful and noisy toys in the middle of the living room floor. His hair is a rich brown, and unruly! His eyes are shaped like mine, and are oh so blue. His feet are almost the size of his big sister's already and his belly is plump and perfect. He looks at me as I call his name and he grins, baring four vibrant teeth in a mouth full of pink gums. I smile back, as my heart fills with the overwhelming sensation of the kind of love that only a mother can know.

And then I open my eyes. He's gone. The floor is bare. The house is quiet. And I'm alone with wet cheeks and an aching chest. All in the blink of an eye.

The past seven months have crept by and it feels like an eternity since I held my boy. But I can still remember every second of the painfully short time we had with him. Most days I only think of him as that newborn, because that's what he will forever be...my newborn baby. However, some days, I catch myself wondering what life would be like with my seven month old son. I long for the chaos and the extra duties. The tears flow when I realize that I should have the fireplace blocked off and the sockets all filled with plastic plugs to keep curious bodies from harm. But, there's no baby in this house.

And of course, it's Christmas time. I wasn't feeling too overly thrilled about decorating this year. I simply didn't have the motivation or want. After expressing my thoughts about minimal decorations to Waylon and picking a very excited Lyla up from school one day I looked to my left and this is what I saw...

 

Okay, baby boy, the Christmas tree WILL go up. :)

 

 

 

Now, what to do about the overwhelming need to buy baby boy gifts this year? I decided that I would go to one of the many department store trees and pluck off a tag to buy presents for a little boy who would be approximately seven months old. It would make me feel better, and would be helping out someone in need as well.

 

Well, Wyatt had another idea...a slightly better one. As Waylon was walking out of the county office building from paying his car taxes yesterday he saw a Christmas tree. The tree had two remaining tags hanging from it's meager branches. Neither were for an infant boy; however, the children represented on this particular tree are those that have been taken from their homes by the state due to abuse or neglect. Waylon signed up to provide Christmas presents to the 11 year old girl and 9 year old boy and walked out of the office building. Upon leaving the building guess what caught his eye? Why that's right...a shiny new penny lay sparkling on the cold, gray ground. Our boy approved of his Daddy's choice.

 

 So in honor of our Wyatt, and with the spirit of Christmas giving, we have bought presents for a special little girl and boy this year. The lists were very humble for young children and called for such things such as pajamas and books. Of course, we bought more than was asked for in hopes to surprise innocent eyes and allow them to know that there IS still some good in this scanty world.  So, although I will not be watching as my infant son opens his first Christmas presents in the glow of the lights on Christmas morning, I know that somewhere a young boy and girl will be smiling from ear to ear as they open theirs. 

The Box

When my brother, sister, and I were younger we had an old wooden toy box in which we kept our most treasured items. Of course, with three rambunctious kids, the box took quite a beating over the years, and was eventually moved to my grandparents' house, where it was then used to store extra quilts. The box has required many extra coats of paint and a few "face lifts" since its beginnings, but it has held sturdy and useful throughout the years.

Upon preparing Wyatt's nursery, we decided to take my grandmother up on her offer to bring the toy box home and put it to work once again being a shelter for a child's most precious belongings. My plan was to re-finish the toy box with a distressed look in order to coordinate with Wyatt's vintage themed nursery. The box that held so many of my special things, would now be his to do the same.

Well, when a baby didn't come home to claim the box as his own, it was placed in the garage...out of sight.

We soon after decided to use the toy box as Wyatt's chest; a place where we would keep everything of our baby's...in one. tiny. chest. Wyatt's Nanny took the toy box home with her and began the long and tedious task of stripping the paint and re-staining the toy box to get it to looking its best once again. Years of wear to the special box had caused the inside and back to need extra work as well. Nanny and Dave took great care to line the inside with cedar pieces, replace the parts that needed it, and to basically beautify the old box. It looks amazing and we are so grateful to them for the time, work, money, and love that was put into making the box like new, because now the most important duty of its time is upon it.

 

Waylon and I carefully placed all of Wyatt's "things" inside the newly made-over box, crying and shaking our heads in pure disbelief as we touched each and every item: the hat with his initials, the guestbook from the funeral, the metal airplane that once hung from the ceiling in his room, the blanket that was layed beneath him as his pictures were taken at the hospital, the hundreds of sympathy cards that were so thoughtfully sent our way, the pacifier that I had carefully packed in his diaper bag, the tiny diapers that never got to do their job, the album full of my pregnancy pictures showing a glowing and excited mommy, and the baby book that was started, but will never be completed, were among the many items.  We plan on hanging his Star certificate above the chest and placing the American flag, that was flown in his honor, in a shadow box to sit on the back of the old toy box.

Although the box will never hold my Wyatt's toys and treasures, it still holds mine...after all these years, the box still contains my most precious items...

Holiday-Phobia

It's fast and approaching. It's full of joy, family, love, lights, food, and laughter. It's busy and hectic, but always worth the stress. It's stocked full of dinners and parties and many family traditions. The music is uplifting and the waist lines are prepared to be stretched. What is it, you ask? Why, it's the most wonderful time of the year...

The few months out of the year that most look forward to (and some even prepare for) since the ending of the last holiday season. Thanksgiving and Christmas, and all of their glory, are in full view and coming in strong. Most people are welcoming their advance by Christmas shopping, preparing a menu for Thanksgiving dinner, making travel arrangements, and decorating.

Not this girl. I'm searching for all necessary and available protective gear in order to make it through the holidays without my baby boy. I'll need goggles to shield my eyes from the constant reminders that my Wyatt was suppose to be here with us this year: the posts and emails referring to things to be thankful for this year (granted, I'm aware that I have plenty to be thankful for, but my soul is still too wounded to pick out the roses and not be scratched by the thorns), the children unwrapping presents at family gatherings, the baby toys in the aisles screaming, "You should be buying me for your son!" as I hang my head and walk past, the sibling portraits with Santa that are likely to be displayed all over FaceBook and the mall and anywhere else I dare to venture, the references to "baby's first Christmas" on everything from ornaments to clothing to Christmas cards, the hurt and pain in my daughter's eyes as she visits brother's grave to give him her presents. They'd better be some damn good goggles.

  I'll be in search of earplugs to shelter my ears from the over played Christmas music in public as well as the overjoyed, annoying, yet well- meaning words of holiday well-wishers that will be hiding in every nook and cranny of the world (both real and cyber) until January 1st. I understand that people are ecstatic and feel the need to spread the joy throughout the holidays, however, I feel a tinge of guilt for not being as eager about the impending celebrations as in previous years when I hear and see other people's statements about this "most wonderful time of the year." I wonder how many are entering this delightful season with a broken heart and wounded character such as myself?

Lastly, I'll be looking for some really sticky, really good, really powerful tape. I'll need it for my heart. I want to wrap it up, and cover all the visible cracks and holes, so that it doesn't simply fall into a million pieces when I wake up on Christmas morning and realize that my baby boy should be 8 months old that very day. Instead of picking him up out of his crib and watching him and Sissy open presents from Santa with smiles and laughter abounding, I'll plant a smile on my face and continue on everyday, like I had for the past 8 months, for my precious baby girl and my savior of a husband. I'll even muster up the courage to visit Wyatt's grave and sing to him...maybe I'll even sing a Christmas song or two.

Many of you reading this want to say, "But, he will be celebrating our Lord's birthday in Heaven, with the one and only!" and I have thought about that and have tried to let it calm my anxiety, but here is what I have to say, "Would that statement make you feel okay if it were your son or daughter missing from your earthly life this holiday season?" Rest assured, these are not the angry words of falling christian, but the true feelings of a grieving mother.

This year there will be four stockings hanging from our mantle. One that will never be filled with goodies and never be touched by the soft and eager hands of it's person, but it will be there, bold and beautiful against the polished wood grain of the mantle, reminding us that our family will one day be whole again.