Not a Single One…

I am so grateful for this man…

…a man who has been by my side through everything.

Katie recently had her 3-year check up and Craig was there.

He has always been there…

He didn’t miss a single prenatal appointment with any of our three pregnancies.

He never missed a single of the 837 classes we took while pregnant…he even attended the breastfeeding class, as he recognized that his support would likely be what got me through those early days of nursing.

He has been at each and every one of the kids’ appointments with the pediatrician.

His committment to our family and his desire to be there for all of the moments, big and the small, fill me with love and gratitude.

Thank you, Craig. I truly love you.

This post is linked to the Thank You Journal at Alli ‘n Son.

Gratitude for Miles

Tonight I am thankful that when my husband’s mother died last evening, she was in his arms, as he so desperately hoped and prayed that she’d be.

I am grateful to two amazing women, Lori and Adrienne, who offered us information and comfort at a time when we felt lost and scared. Through numerous phone calls and emails, they each offered their extensive knowledge and kindness.

I am grateful to my dear friends, Andrea, Kris, and Loni, who checked in on us regularly and repeatedly offered shoulders to cry on and kind words when we truly needed them and Chris, Corey, Ana, and Briana, who took such amazing care of our children so that we could be by Craig’s mother’s side.

I will be ever thankful to the hospice nurses who cared for Craig’s mother in her last days; Jan and Arlene helped to ease our worries and provided us a comforting presence through their tender care and compassion. There is a special place in Heaven for these two beautiful women.

I am grateful for the nurses who carried out the hospice care–Cora, Jemma, Maggie, and Nathan. These nurses ensured that she remained pain-free and peaceful. They also put up with our constant questions. We were able to get a few hours of sleep each night and slip out for quick meals because we knew that they were keeping an eye on her. Despite the stressful environment that these nurses work in, with demands and cries coming from every direction, each of these kind souls paused time to kiss her on the forehead, whisper in her ear, pray for her, or tenderly wash her hair. Compassion is a truly beautiful thing to witness.

I truly appreciate each and every one of the phone calls, emails, texts, notes, and direct messages we received, as each message felt like a huge hug.

Craig’s brother, Sean, and his wife, Janelle, were always just a phone call away and their daily emails, calls, and words of appreciation kept us going through the darkest moments.  We are blessed to call them family–we treasure them and value them beyond words.

And lastly, I am thankful to have had a mother-in-law who raised such a beautiful son–a son who wouldn’t leave her side, who brushed her hair and read to her, who reminded her, until she took her last breath, that he loved her dearly.

His Name Was David Edward

Tonight I lay my son down to sleep and I cried for my mother, a woman who laid her baby boy down to sleep and found him gone forever the next morning.

He was barely older than Matthew and he was my mother’s first born, the one who taught her just how inconceivably intense the love of a parent is for their child.

She found him dead. Crib death they called it then. This baby, my older brother, gone before he had truly lived. Gone before he walked, but not before he smiled. Before he ran, but not before he laughed.

His name was David and he was breathtakingly beautiful.

I think of him often, wondering what he would have been like as a grown man, as my older brother.

I ache for my mother. No, not ache, because that cannot begin to touch what I feel. My heart is shattered for my mother. Young, full of love and joy. With a baby who died in the very next room. That is an unfathomable pain.

My mother…
You are brave
You are strong.
You are forever changed by your sweet son…by both his life and by his death.

I never take bedtime for granted.
I can’t and I won’t.

I love and admire you, Mom.

You are stronger than you know.

A Letter of Love to My Sweet Son

Dear Matthew,

As impossible as it is to believe, you are six months old today.  A friend once said about the passage of time that the days may drag on, but the years fly by, and I’m finding that to be so painfully true.We had some truly difficult times in those early months, days where we both cried too often, but we are now finding our rhythm and I am grateful for each moment that I have with you.  I look at you now and cannot believe that we had such a rough beginning.

Since you were finally diagnosed with and treated for acid reflux, you are a remarkably different baby.  Gone are the days of incessant crying, shrieking, back arching, and vomiting.  You now smile, you play, you sleep, and you hug.  I am sorry that it took us so long to find you some relief, my sweet boy.

You now sit independently and your huge, toothless grin shows just how proud of yourself you are.  You light up when Katie comes near and you can’t get enough of her hugs and kisses.  You are also trying desperately to figure out how to crawl and if I’m honest, I hope you wait a bit.

There are several small and precious moments in the day when it is just the two of us and I find myself staring at you in awe.  I can’t believe my good fortune to have you as my son.

I look into your beautiful baby eyes and I wonder how you see me.  Do you see how saddened I am that we had such a rough start?   Do you see how I smile at the mere sight of you? Can you possibly even begin to imagine just how much I adore you?

I touch your cute little ears and I wonder why it is that you love my singing.  (You are truly the only one who does.)

I look at your sweet mouth and eagerly await the sound of you calling out my name.  The sound of your laughter brightens my days, sweet boy.

I hold your tiny baby hands and find it impossible to imagine that one day your hand will dwarf mine.  I am so grateful for your touch, the way you rub my face in the sweetest way, as though you are trying to tell me something important.

I tickle your chubby little legs and hope that you have them for a while, since you are our last baby and I can’t bear the thought of you growing.

I look at your tiny feet and yummy baby toes and can’t believe just how perfect you are.

You are a joy, Matthew.  You are delicious and happy and above all, you are a true blessing.

I love you,
Mommy