a bit of perspective...

We’re but a few weeks into the new year! Holidays seem a bit of a blur. The last few weeks have been a bit hectic for us. For Ricardo and I, the start of our holiday season was rocked by news from a few friends of various diagnosis’s and episodes. Our holiday season was a bit bluer due to the passing of my brother-in-law late last summer. It was a season of many first for my sister and was very bittersweet.

Ricardo and I have been a bit more introspective and retrospective as of late. We celebrated our 8 year anniversary together and our 3 year marriage anniversary with no major fan fare but there was, of course, cake!

If you could label this season, it would be “appreciating the little things.” Tonight Ricardo and I had an impromptu date nite. I was famished and work has been insanely crazy but I remembered to put my phone down and just take in the moment with him. I’ve had a project that sorta went of the rails and I’ve been putting in the late nights trying to right-size it. We’re 95% of the way there and hopefully tomorrow, we’ll be able to put it to rest. So to say I’ve been a bit distracted would be a huge understatement. 

Yet all the while, life is still happening to those who are in our inner circle. It’s been hard to keep connected but we’re working hard at checking in on folks and working to meet needs as able. There’s quite a few people on my heart lately but tonight I wanted to talk about Patricia and Chris. 

I met Patricia while working at Seton and after I got to know her, just really connected with her. She’s a fellow believer so having that same understanding in faith makes it easy to find commonality but Patricia just has a very sweet spirit about her. Always seeking to do the right thing which I greatly admire. She was in our wedding and Ricardo and I got to know Chris, her husband, better as a result! 

To describe them is to say they are two peas in a pod. They remind me a lot of my own Mom and Dad. Ricardo and I just hold them in great esteem. This past fall we learned that after a lengthy journey, Chris had been diagnosed with stage four cancer. Ricardo and I drove that evening to go visit with them and to let them know we were standing with them and joining them in prayer for healing! 

They’ve been on my heart a lot...I’d just witnessed my sister lose her husband, her life partner to a lengthy illness. I’ll just say that if you’re married or in a relationship, the thought of losing your loved one likely will hit you in the gut. Chris and Patricia have been married a few years longer than Ricardo and I. So for me it just hit me, in a place of “but Lord more time!”

They certainly haven’t given up the fight and they continue to believe that God can bring healing to Chris’s body but I also see that “peace that passes all understanding...” it’s that piece that allows us to mourn differently because of hope. I saw it in my sister and I’ve seen it in so many other believers we know going through tough, gut wrenching moments! 

So you may be asking why the mention?

It’s why I deliberately put my phone down during dinner tonight. Ricardo and I spend a lot of time on our phones. For one, I’m connected to my work via a work cell phone, iPad, laptop,  desktop, etc...my livelihood is based on being connected and available. I’m blessed in that my boss understands work life balance and encourages it. So when needed I tend to burn hours working to finish whatever project we have. But I do work equally as hard to take downtime and time away. 

So back to dinner with Ricardo...last night he asked me about Chris and Patricia. I told him I was following their blog but needed to touch base with them.

We try to stop and visit when we’re in Austin and we’ll be there this Sat with Ricardo’s family. The conversation with Ricardo has a lot of significance because that’s so very much who Ricardo is. He won’t admit it but I would describe him as being pretty tender-hearted and a bit of a bull in a china cabinet shop! Between the two of us, if feelings are hurt, 80% of the time, it’s not me! That’s how I knew I’d met my “penguin” in life! Ricardo is very much all the things I’m not but it’s reciprocal. A very fitting definition...

Ricardo brings a much needed balance to my life in ways I’d never thought imagineable. I’ve been thinking about that a lot. Thinking about our time together and purposefully taking the time to find appreciation in those moments. Life hit us hard for the last two years but we’ve continued to plug along knowing it’s a season. I’m grateful for this man, Ricardo, in all sorts of ways. But largely this season of gratitude was brought by a point-in-time realization that we’re not guaranteed tomorrow. 

After learning about Chris and Patricia, I consciously stopped and thought what would I do if we were in their shoes. Would I change anything about how “we do life” together? And the one word that came back was “grace...”

Grace is not something that comes naturally to me but Ricardo and I have known for some time that God’s been stirring in some unusual ways in our lives. I’m not sure how that’s going to translate in the days to come but witnessing Chris and Patricia’s journey has brought a new introspective and reflective perspective on my marriage to Ricardo. 

Not to say that things weren’t good but I think as time progresses you move into a season of “being comfortable” so all those little things you did early in your relationship lose priority over every day life things like work, cleaning your home, grocery shopping, etc...

In those moments that Ricardo drives me bat-apes crazy, I find myself stopping and thinking “is it worth it in the long-run? Would this argument have any merit if our situation were different? Is this really about the point itself or something else?” My perspective is colored by lenses that fully realize that time is a gift. When I stop and view our situation with those lenses, grace is much easier to come by. 

We continue to hope and pray for Patricia and Chris but their journey has forever changed ours! I think of the verse “as iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another...”this has never been more true!

We ask that you join us in praying for strength and healing for Chris and Patricia!

Below are a few photos from our wedding! When I think of Chris and Patricia, I think the second photo captures them perfectly!

Today I encourage you to take a few moments to love on your spouse. It doesn’t take grand gestures, it could be as simple as sitting at dinner and putting our phones down and just enjoying the time we have together!

I can only imagine ...rest in peace Cary.

Hard to believe it's been two weeks since my brother-in-law passed. Feels both like it was both yesterday and ages ago. Death is no respector of age, race, or condition. Cary experienced the ultimate healing on August 4, 2017 as he passed from this life to the next.

We, alongside my sister, his boys, family, and friends, laid him to rest last Saturday. The outpouring of love my sister had received had been overwhelming at times but graciously beautiful. Many of you know that Cary suffered for years. He had a Total pancreatectomy in 2009 in an expected attempt to extend his life 2-4 years. Without it, he likely wouldn't of lasted long.

At the time, his boys were young: ages 1 and 4. When he was first diagnosed, we knew it was going to be fatal. The news was heart wrenching but he endured for almost 8 years. We give thanks to the Lord for allowing Cary to pass in peace.

To say the last week has been rough, is a complete understatement. Emotionally, we'll be raw for some time: more so my sister and nephews. Pray for peace and for comfort.

Preparing for his funeral, I put together a Memorial slide show for my sister. What I learned from that is that the Lord answered Cary's prayers. He'd asked to live long enough so his boys would know him. Oh they knew him alright! They knew his funny quirks and shared many memories. Pictures are a bit sparse as the boys aged but it had more to do with Cary's illness progressing and the fact that he was more homebound in the last few years.

Cary was rambunctious and I told my sister I expected him to walk right into a heaven never becoming bed-bound. He almost did.

At his funeral, we joked that we expected him to pop up and let us know what wasn't being done right! Cause that's the sort of personality my brother-in-law had! He'd once sent a letter to Wendy's corporate because he'd been charged $.25 for croutons and they were supposed to be free! He gave me a gift card for Christmas once and it had a strange amount. It was because he's subtracted the amount of the cost of the gift card (it costs because it had sound). He'd also given me a nut cookie jar and a cucuy Indian garden statute!

He took us to England when my sister and e first got married. It was he craziest trip we'd ever gone on because of his intense itinerary. But we all agreed we got more than our money's worth. He should've been a tour guide, he woulda been good at it.

 I joked with my husband that Cary would decide to depart so close to my 40th birthday! I don't seriously believe he did it to steal my birthday thunder but I honestly wouldn't be surprised if he did! Lol...that's the relationship we had.

So I conceded the limelight to him (for good reason and not begrudgedly). Cary had been waiting for some time to pass. It was hard to watch as his body waste away, his physical limitations frustrating him.

Cary's always been a doer. He didn't sit on the sidelines and watch. He'd roll up his sleeves and join in the work...most especially if you gave him a clipboard! I joked that Cary was up in heaven organizing Sunday morning services, giving the apostles their seating assignments and letting the angels know their cue when to sing!

More importantly than any of that...he's walking the streets of gold and he's at eternal rest. No longer held by the limitations of his physical body. We can only imagine what his eyes are seeing.

 We knew he was tired and in pain so the focus of our prayers shifted to how he'd transition from our world to the next. Our hope was that it would be peaceful and painless.

As loud and dramatic as Cary was, ironically he slipped from our world to the next as gently and quietly as a lamb.

 One of the last conversations I had with him, we promised him that we'd look after my sister and his boys. I think he knew we meant it and time has proven our words to be true.

Cary - you can now Rest In Peace and high on that mountain. You're work on earth is done! We have your watch; keep on the sunny side!

Your sister
Laura

We are not without hope...it is well....1 Thessalonians 4:13

My it's been some time since I've last written. It's been a whirlwind since my last post. I had started a new blog but never really got to find consistent time to write. I've started half-a-dozen blogs or so but never really felt strong enough about them to publish.

By now, most of all of our close family and friends know that my brother-in-law's went to be with the Lord yesterday morning. He endured a traumatic injury Wednesday evening. We knew he was not likely to recover but like so many times before I think we stood on the brink of "is this it?" We thought he would bounce back like the many times before.

We just didn't know. He began transitioning mid-morning and a few short hours later, he drew his last breath. He left as peacefully, quietly, and unexpectedly as anyone could depart. He simply stepped out of the room and into the other side of Grace. He left this world with dignity and in peace: an answer to a consistent core prayer for us. The thing we all wanted for him and for my sister. While the pain we may feel, pails in comparison to the pain felt by my sister, his parents or sister. We do feel his loss and largely through my sister and nephews.

We do not pretend to think the next steps to come are easy, that there won't be challenges.

There are two young boys in this mix and so our efforts have been largely focused on stability and love.

I've spent alot of time reflecting on family and what it means.

When we first learned about Cary's illness and his likely outcome. We prayed that God would bring the right answers....medical solutions, miracles, whatever it was that God would want to do. We've never pretended to understand God's plan for Cary. At times, our prayers have focused on relief for Cary, other times they were centered on healing, but our prayers have varied over time in many ways.

Even now, I have no real answers as to why. To me, it's not important. God began a good work and was faithful to complete it. I hope and trust in the unseen. We do not mourn without hope and so while we may shed tears, they are stemmed from the pain of a physical separation. Death was designed to be painful...but our mourning is also fully adorned with an eternal hope that we will meet again someday.

Maybe that's something that you believe or maybe you believe something all together different. But it has been that hope that has sustained us...that hope that propels us and that hope that will keep us moving forward long after my brother-in-law is laid to rest.

About 10 years ago, I took a sabbatical compelled to focus on very specific activities. Initially, I had thought that focus was returning to school to finish my undergraduate work and when that was completed it would shift towards my graduate studies. But soon after starting grad school, the area of focus would seismicly shift to my family - specifically my sister, her husband, and her boys. Along the path, I have failed at times, but time has brought consistency. Learning what it is to not only say family is important but then to act in a way that reaffirms that value. It's been a slow growing process. Through it, the road has meandered and weaved in directions I would've never imagined. Ricardo and I stay active but in ways that are inconspicuous. We've never said we thought this was the absolutely right approach but it was what was best for us at the point of where we were. It's allowed us the freedom to come and go as needed to serve my sister and her boys.

At one time, I used to juggle a million things at once but I learned that I never mastered any of those things...so I decided to focus on the most important part of life: my sister and her family.

My brother-in-law and I were not the best of friends...In fact, I know I challenged him in ways that caused us to clash. We had very few moments were we would agree but we are in some ways cut from similar bolts of cloth. In other ways, we have completely bi-polar viewpoints that were never going to be exactly aligned. But this was the man my sister loved. Our relationship was not perfect. It was never going to be...but I'd never wish on anyone the suffering he endured. I don't fully understand it either. I don't think I understood what his illness would mean until my oldest nephew called me one day. My sister and bro-in-law had just had a conversation with him about what my bro-in-laws fate was likely to be.

My nephew was upset and asked to call and talk to me. So i answered the phone to a little voice. I could literally hear the tears in his voice. My sister explained what had happened...and in that small voice, he mustered up "but God can heal my dad - can't he?"

It took everything I had to maintain my composure as tears filled my eyes. I understood then the price that would be paid. What I would've given for their experience to have been different. To have had a healthy dad that would have more time with them. I took a moment to take a deep breath and said to him "absolutely baby. God can heal him..."

I believed it then...I believe it now but I also had a different kind of maturity to know that whether God decided to heal him in a way that would extend his life on earth, or to heal him in Heaven - it didn't really matter because we'd still give God the place He deserves. We'd still praise Him, we'd still thank Him, we'd still trust Him...it was in that moment that I understood the why of focusing on family. It's been painful and it's been hard, but I wouldn't change any of it. I regret nothing because nothing worthwhile comes without hard-work and toil.

Here we are six years later...that little boy who posed that question so many years ago is now a young man. He's growing at a rate that is unimaginable and before long, he'll be bound for college. Not wanting to spend any time with his auntie. I'm not a perfect aunt. I've made plenty of mistakes but we continually ask God to give us wisdom as we interact with our nieces and nephews...to give us wisdom in helping to point our nieces and nephews to Jesus, to the Father....to live our lives in a way that show's who we believe God to be. I see it in the small things...the conversations my nephews have with my husband or how they'll bump up next to him to walk with him when we're at a store or walking to the car...i see it when they call me and ask how my day was or what I'm up to. Who they'll understand God to be will largely be impacted by how the adults in their lives live out those principles and values. 

This weekend they were supposed to be in San Antonio to enjoy a final trip before they begin their school year at a new school in a new city. Obviously those plans changed. Instead, we've spent this weekend working through arrangements but focused on my nephews and sister. We managed to get in some school shopping (yes there were some challenges there...) but we managed to find what we were looking for and so we'll take that as a win. Last night, my husband helped me to take the boys swimming and so for a brief moment I saw smiles on their faces as we splashed each other and chased each other around the pool. We've had alot of conversations about feelings and that its ok to be happy one minute and to cry the next and to miss their dad the next. We're working to keep those communication lines open to help level the playing field so that if they need to talk - they know someone is around to listen to them. Tougher days are ahead, without a doubt and we know that many more tears will be shed but we know God will see us all through them. We know He's still who He says He is and that will never change.

The end of the week will find us reunited to lay my brother-in-law to rest alongside his family. The last time I spoke with Cary I told him we would look after his boys and my sister. I think he knew us well enough to know that we'd do what we said we would do.

We know that his funeral will be hard. We'll cry, we reflect on Cary's life, and we'll give thanks for God's work in his life. We know his boys will have questions. We'll listen and we'll answer as best we can...but we'll be there...it's the only thing we know to do. This focus on family didn't start with me, it didn't start with Ricardo...it started long ago with our grandparents, passed on to our parents, then to us....now to our nephews.

The hardest days will come when they get home and begin to figure out how to live life a new. There may be sadness for a period but joy will come in the mourning.

We'll remember the crazy things Cary said and did...his quirks...his sayings...and we'll know he's in a better place. Probably organizing the morning services in heaven...instructing the choir on when to start the singing, seating the apostles, lining up the angels...because that's who Cary was. If they have clip boards in heaven, Cary's probably got the biggest one there...lol

Our family has and will always be changed because of Cary's entrance and departure from this world.

Was Cary perfect? no...but none of us are. If not for the grace of God, who gives us eternal hope. The following verse seems appropriate. Death where is your sting? Thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ and because of that victory we do not mourn without hope.

To those who have sustained us in prayer, there are no words to express our gratitude. To the multitude of individuals who provided support in any manner to Cary, my sister, and her boys; we are eternally grateful for you. Please know that your support is recognized as the ministry of Jesus to his bride. From the bottom of our hearts - thank you! 

Cary ran his race and came to the finish line. He crossed that line Wednesday morning. May we follow in that same pursuit - to run our own races and to finish them well.

1 Corinthians 15:55-57
English Standard Version (ESV)
⁵⁵ “O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?” ⁵⁶ The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. ⁵⁷ But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

The Anthem

By his stripes we are healed
By his nail-pierced hands we’re free
By his blood, we’re washed clean
Now we have the victory.

The power of sin is broken,
Jesus overcame it all,
He has won our freedom,
Jesus has won it all,

Hallelujah!
You have won the victory.
Hallelujah!
You have won it all for me.

Death could not hold you down
You are the risen king
Seated in Majesty
You are the risen king

Our god is risen, he is alive
He won the victory, he reigns on high

When all is said and done

July 4th...

Tomorrow most people will celebrate with family and/or friends with BBQ's, cook-outs, picnics, out at lake or park ending the night with fireworks. 

We engage in some of those activities but not quite to the same extent. I think my mom has obliged ius because she's a mom. 

My dad and her were with us over the weekend as we transferred my nephews back to my sister. They left earlier this evening and while it would've been nice to have them with us, I know there's a part of her that finds some comfort being home. 

She doesn't celebrate the 4th of July in the same way that we do and not because she's any less patriotic. My grandfather was a veteran...and he passed while as a civilian in a tragic accident. She was young just out of high school. 

A singular decision would change her life and the makeup of her family. I think I'll never understood how hard that experience was for her but today I caught just a tiny glimpse. She said something to me in passing that had I not known the back story, I probably would've over looked her words without much thought. 

This year marks 45 years since his passing. 

45 years...

My grandfather passed before we were born so we never met him. We only know about him from stories we've been told by our mom and relatives. He has a sister who is still alive. She calls my mom and her siblings and has kept an eye on them. I know she loved her brother and that she felt a responsibility to keep an eye on his children. 

Over the last year or so I've researched our family ancestry. It's been amazing to see photos and gain a better understanding of our ancestors lives thru documents. 

Its been said "to know who you are and where you're going, you have to know where you've come from." It's been important to know our family history so that we can pass it on to the next generation. For me - that's my nephews. It's appropriate given their situation. 

Many of you know their dad has been ill for some time. There have been many moments when we've thought this is it. Surprisingly he's beat a lot of odds. He's beat a lot of odds. He's survived longer than his transplant dr's thought he would. I remember those moments, I was in grad school working on a project in Lubbock waiting for updates from my sister or parents. My folks made the long trip up to Minnesota to be with my sister as they waited. We all wondered if he'd be strong enough to survive...and he was. We almost lost him several times in the days and moments that followed. He was taken back in because he was bleeding out in recovery. My sister got a call in the middle of the night to head back to the office so my dad drove her over due to snowy conditions in Minnesota at the time. Miraculous Cary survived and he's been given almost 7 additional years with his children. 

We've been a bit tight lipped about the process of his disease. Not because we wish to be secretive but because we've been here many times before. I can't tell you how hard it's been on my sister, bro-in-law, or nephews. I can't even put into words to describe their experience because it is uniquely theirs. I've only had the privilege to be a spectator in close proximity. Each time, there's a bit of "ok we've been here and he's survived the last round..." And the approach begins to be tempered with a bit of disbelief. So I think we've purposely waited to post or say anything because we don't want to mislead in any way. No one knows when we will be called home, no one knows the hour that death will knock on our door.

We know there will come the day when he will pass but I think our hearts are unsure of how to process the "this is really it-ness"...we just don't know. Only God knows when he'll call Cary home. 

If you don't know by now, Cary's back on hospice. I wont go into any details but i'll say from my perspective it is very different this time around. For the most part our prayers have and are centered on rest and peace...

I know there are those that will say "is this really it." I can only say, we don't know. But we do know that each day more that Cary gets to spend with his boys is a gift. All we can do is support them in whatever way possible.

You have to know that this process is not for the faint of heart. It is exhausting and draining in every way imaginable and while we may feel just a slight ounce of that as we play supportive to, we'll never feel the weight or burden of the entirety of the process as much as my sister and nephews will. For that reason, we work to be as sensitive as possible and to be as protective as possible. 

Amanda is my baby sister and no matter how old she gets, she will always be my baby sister and my brother will always be my little brother. 

I've always believed in being upfront and truthful. We've had those conversations necessary to understand how to best support my sister, my BIL and her boys. There's no manual that says here's what you do but we each do what we can to help her as best as we can. For that reason, I think there's been a few prevalent songs on my mind. 

Both songs from Geoff Moore and from a completely different time in life. Those songs take on a different meaning today than they did then. The first being "when all is said and done"...the later "listen to our hearts." 

We are hyper-aware of the frailty of our humanity; that we are not promised tomorrow. We are aware that our actions and words can have incredible implications. Our hearts, our attention, our focus is on supporting my sister and her family. I think about the lyrics of when all is said and done...those lyrics have never been more prevalent than now. 

As you celebrate the 4th of July, keep those families who've lost a loved one in service to our country in your prayers. I'm sure today, they miss their loved ones more than ever!

When all is said and done

https://youtu.be/Qri1ibZb8xk

Lyrics: 

When the music fades into the past,

When the days of life are through,

What will be remembered of where I've come?

When all is said and done?

Will they say I loved my family?

That I was a faithful friend?

That I lived to tell of God's own son?

When all is said and done.

Of how I long to see the hour,

When I would hear that trumpet sound.

So I could rise and see my Savior's face,

And see him smile,

And say 'Well done.'

You can forget my name

And the songs I've sung,

Every rhyme and every tune.

But remember the truth of Jesus' love,

When all is said and done

When all is said and done.

Listen to our hearts

https://youtu.be/lpK9v0MvxDE

Lyrics:

How do you explain, how do you describe 
A love that goes from the east to west 
And runs as deep as it is ride 
You know all our hopes 
Lord, you know all our fears 
And words cannot express the love we feel 
But we long for You to hear 

So listen to our hearts 
Here our spirit sing
A song of praise that flows 
From those you have redeemed
We will use the words we know 
To tell you what an awesome God You are
But words are not enough 
To tell you of our love 
So listen to our hearts 

If words could fall like rain 
From these lips of mine 
And if I had a thousand years 
I would still run out of time 
So if You'll listen to my heart 
Every beat will say 
Thank You for the life, Thank You for the truth, 
Thank You for the way

A chance meeting

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My mom and I got to meet this guy at the airport. After taking in the Boston Marathon experience for a second year. Seemed poignant that, especially after a year with my company, I left with a deeper appreciate and profound insight for the things some of us take for granted on a daily basis. I recognized him from seeing him in Feneuil Hall. 

I immediately congratulated him and was quite surprised when he engaged us in conversation. We can only imagine what his training must of looked like and the fact that he crossed that finish line, no matter the time, deserves to be celebrated. Boston is one of the toughest courses and right between mile 20 and 21 lies heartbreak hill...each runner has to dig a little deeper just before the stretch home. The cheer of crowds often give that final momentum of motivation needed to cross the finish line. From the look on some runners faces, the anguish and agony to finish is very real and that's when the crowd kicks in with their cheers and encouragement. The sheer elation he had and pride in this accomplishment is infectious. 

Here's a guy who has obviously overcome some major hurdles! Doesn't mean he won't have more to come. At the same time, he wasn't the first to finish the race. I think the point is that it wasn't about what place he came in at. The point is that he finished the race. In fact, he finished dead last. 

At one point in our conversation he turned and looked back, he said "I may have finished last but at least I finished and can tell my kids 'look your dad accomplished something!'" 

I couldn't agree more! Boston is the Holy Grail for any runner. Only about 35,000 runners are accepted. Entry is competitive and often times, runners who have met time qualifications don't get in because there were more runners who out paced them to qualify. The fact that he's there is something to be proud of. Whether he was there by a charity spot or via qualification, he was there. He ran Boston and has his medal to prove it!

Folks run Boston for a number of reasons. My brother does as a celebration of life and health. He worked hard to be in a healthy place post college/grad school. He picked up running and discovered he was pretty good and enjoyed it! That's how we ended up in Boston for a second year in a row. 

We don't believe in happen stance or coincidence. We believe all things happen for a reason, reasons we may not understand today or may ever understand. 

I'm grateful for moments like these. Over the last year, I've learned more about wounds that won't heal. Not figuratively, but actual flesh wounds. I understand the mechanisms that can stall healing and also know there are many product that can promote healing. Healing is most difficult for folks with compromised immune systems and for diabetics. 

Moments like these make me proud to work for a company focused on wound care and helping folks heal so they can get back to every day life. Our mantra is to "make better."

It may sound hokey but I think about that in my own work. While I may never directly interest with patients, I do interact  with providers and administrators and support folks who interact with providers and administrators on a daily basis. My job is to help arm them with information and data. There are countless studies that have proven the efficacy of our products and I strongly believe in the work my organization does.

What more, I have a powerful and relevant story to share with one of our teams as we present on quality and the impacts. Interactions like this serve as reminders that I'm where I need to be, doing what I've been called to do. Grateful for the experience and humbled by the opportunity.

Six years in the making and a lifetime more to go!

Technically today is Ricardo and my 1st wedding anniversary. Given all the hinges that have occurred in the last few weeks, we knew it would be bittersweet. It is very much that and so much more.

I think it's why we chose to celebrate in Austin with our close friends and family. Austin was our first home, it's where we honeymooned (even though we lived here) and sought refuse from a brutal holiday season! We spent five nights at the Barton Springs Resort and the days after settling into a new rhythm of life before heading back to work. Those moments in our lives were incredible. 

Life continued and we were very much enjoying life as newly weds. (Insert record scratch here!)

But Ricardo and I are realist. We don't sugar-coat our relationship and we believe in transparency and honestly. We don't pretend somethings when it isn't...and so as some may say, "the honeymoon was over pretty quickly."

To some that notion may seem sad or horrible. To Ricardo and I, it's exactly who we are. He sometimes drives me nuts and sometimes I drive him banana. We just had a discussion coming home how he never follows my driving instructions even after he asks me for them. Yet, we both know (he's professed it) that he's horrible with directions. But that's how it goes, we're very human. And prone to error. The analyst in me says this should get better with time and improved processes but relationships are an entity of their own! So you learn to pick your battles...is his not following my directions going to ruin our lives, statistically speaking "likely no."

Is it worth losing my marbles over? No, not really...so I let him take the road he wants to take and when he's ready for my directions, I provide them though not always as kindly as I should. We're working on the flaws...but for now they are what they are. So to some it may seem that our honeymoon is over but this is seriously how we have always been. I think with time we've become better. We've grown and while we've been given time to settle, we know we have to continue to grow and so we do both independently and together. 

We are not extremely lovey-dovey publicly, it's not who we are. We are very independent people after all, but mess with my husband and a flip switches...why because it's MY husband and I love him dearly and while he doesn't need me to protect him, it's in my nature to do so. To be honest, my husband and Jesus are probably the only reasons why I've not landed myself in jail. 

We decided that for our first anniversary, we'd spend it in Austin visiting friends and we'd stay where we honeymooned.  Omni Hotels has been just amazing to us!

It's hard to believe that a year ago the worries of the day were a wedding license...there's tremendous buildup to the big day and like a buble bursting in air it is gone just as quickly sad it started.

I took a few moments to reflect on our wedding and this first year of marriage. The wedding itself went by so quickly. We had an amazing time. However, I hardly got a chance to talk to some of the guests we wanted to visit with. There were things that went wrong but in the end, those things don't matter. The ceremony and reception was gorgeous! There were so many who contributed all in significant ways that we're so thankful for! It was incredible. 

As we checked into the hotel tonight, I had a twinge of sadness as I opened the closet. A year ago, I had hung up my dress in the closet until we could get it home. I've still to mark it and send it off to be preserved. Something I need to do soon.

I stopped to think about how life had so drastically changed and realized we'd weathered life together fairly well over this year. 

Then there were three...

December 12th our family grew to four as we adopted a new pup we officially named Timmy Duncan Donuts Casillas. We were excited and hoping that Duncan would provide Miss Fancy (our older lab) with some companionship.

In mid-Oct, Miss Fancy was diagnosed with lymphoma and given a few months to survive. It took several weeks of decision making and testing to confirm her diagnosis. We had decided to do a biopsy to confirm. We were of course shocked and stunned when we received the news. We were hoping she just had an infection. 

Quickly, as fur parents, we started reading everything we could on lymphoma. We set up an appointment to visit with our vet and determine our options. From the get-go, we knew that we would not pursue any treatment that would reduce her quality of life or would put her through unnecessary pain. 

Fancy, about 12 years of age, was up there in doggie years. She'd spent the last 10 years with my husband and she had lived a good life. She was my husband's faithful companion and he loved her with his whole heart. 

Fancy first came into my life as I started dating her dad. I knew it the moment we started dating that he would do anything for her. I'll be honest. My first thoughts were "hmmm she's an unusual shape" and "she's a big dog!" I wasn't sure how she was going to respond to me but she was gracious. She side-eyed me for a while but she was kind to me.

As my relationship with Ricardo became more serious, she was there with us. She'd worry when Ricardo and I would get upset at one another. She rarely barked but if I tickled Ricardo to the point that he yelled out "stop". She'd bark...if I told her to sit down while I was tickling Ricardo and if Ricardo yelled simultaneously "Fancy help me!", she'd get this confused look like "uh guys who do I listen to?" She almost didn't know who to be loyal too. Eventually her alliances aligned with me but we think it's because I'm the loudest one in the house. So she naturally assumed I was in charge. That or she knew I was a softy and couldn't resist her big brown "a snack for a fattie" eyes!

She really grew on me and stole my heart. We thought about including her in our ceremony when we wed but logistics proved to challenging. So she stayed home and when we returned, she faithfully greeted us with a wagging tail.

When we decided to make the move to or new home, she travelled up with me. She spent those first few hours in the house alone with me. Keeping me company as each delivery was made. The first night in our new home was without furniture as it would be delivered the following day. We could hear her exploring, the click-clack of her paws on the floor as she ran around not quite she what to do. Ricardo called her into our bedroom and she settled in to sleep.

Often she'd look at me or my husband and I knew. She wanted to join us on the couch, join her humans. So we'd pull out a blanket and call her up. She'd sit and we'd pet her and after a while, she'd get down and make herself comfortable on the floor. 

She wanted to be with us and near us. She loved people and no matter where we took her, people fell in love with her. 

She was gentle and sweet. She loved being rubbed and petted. She'd roll over on her back and put her paws up to her face to try and get our attention. She'd lay like that until we came up to her and rubbed her belly.

After receiving her diagnosis, we spent more time taking her for rides. In fact, most of November, after we got out of work, we were taking her for short rides. Taking her with us to run errands or to go get an ice cream. I'd come home from work and lay on the floor with her. I'd pet her and talk to her. I knew no matter how bad my day was that she was going to greet me. In fact, on days when Ricardo was home before I was, she'd hear me before he would and she'd come downstairs to greet me! When I was home before Ricardo and he'd come home, she'd get so excited. Her bootie and tail shaking and a waggin'! Her dad was home!

It was in the last week or so that I began to sense she was in trouble and that she might not make it through the holidays. Our vet thought the prednisone would slow the cancer enough to get her through the holidays. I'm not sure if our friends and family knew what we knew. Her condition was serious and life threatening. We made attempts to tell them but after her surgery and vet visits we'd get "how is she doing?can they give her medicine? Surgery? She's doing better?" I think they were hoping as Ricardo was that she'd be ok and that it was something that could be treated. For me, it was different. I'm usually the optimistic but I'm also the realist. My philosophy is no matter how bad it is, avoiding is not going to make it go away. So deal and confront it and do what you can but don't let it make you bitter. Learn from it and become better. 

To some degree, Fancy was doing better but she had lymphoma. There is no cure for it and all the reading in the world wasn't going to prepare us to lose her to cancer.

But in the blink of an eye, it happened. We went on prednisone for less than a week when we noticed her belly was distended. She was having seizure-like episodes and they were starting to occur more frequently. We even had a late night visit to the ER. She endured, I think because she loved us so much and wanted her humans to be ok.

But Monday, something happened. 

She went out to our porch and refused to come in. Both my husband and I were unable to get her to coax her to come back in. She laid there looking at us, tired. 

I went to work and text my husband and quickly, he assessed that it was time.

Time to let her go.

My husband hadnt been willing up until that point. I didn't push him but I didn't sugar-coat her situation either. He needed to come his own conclusion about letting her go. Either way, I was going to support him and whatever decision he came to. From the start, we had decided together we were not going to allow her to suffer for our sakes. 

I quickly made arrangements at work, moving afternoon appointments and so did my husband. Home we went to spend those last few hours with her. The photo below is her waiting for my husband so that we could go for a ride. 

That's how I got her off the patio, by offering to take her for a ride. So that's what we did. 

We took her for a long ride and got her cheeseburgers. We took her to the park and walked her around. We spent time with her and took photos of and with her. We petted her and rubbed her and we loved on her. 

When we got to the vet's office, I couldn't contain the emotion that was welling. Our vet's office was amazing. So delicate to our state and reason for being there. They were gentle in processing our paperwork, offering the privacy of an exam room and bringing us a box of tissue. They gave us the time we needed and they loved on our Fancy too. And when we were ready, they walked us through those next final moments. When she was gone, they checked her vitals and verified what we already knew. 

I was astonished at how suddenly and quietly she left us. In one breath, she was gone so peaceful. We cried and we mourn. We took our time and when it was time to go, our vet staff let us leave without interruption. They'd call us when Fancy's ashes were back. 

And so we left, holding hands with tears in our eyes. We knew we had done the right thing. We could see in her eyes that the pain was becoming more and more unbearable and she was tired.

We had vowed that when it was time, we would let her go in and with love with dignity and peace. We fulfilled that vow. We left nothing to regret. 

Though our hearts are broken for now, we take comfort that she's no longer in pain. She was set free and whether you believe in doggie heaven or not. We know she's in a better place; either in the sky with a great big doggie bone, ears flapping in the wind or at peace, resting easy.

We have been extremely blessed with the outpouring of love not just directed towards us but to our Fancy. For that we are most grateful: more than you could know. We covet your prayers and so very much appreciate your support.

There will be a day when saying her name will not be accompanied by tears. We will be able to look back and joyfully give thanks for her time with us. She was an amazing sweet dog, who had her own quirks and personality but who loved us unconditionally. 

I'll miss her Napolean Dynamite sighs and her Scobbie Doo desire for food but we will carry her and our memories with her with us in our hearts. 

Rest in peace Miss Fancy, you're may now be at your forever home but a part of our family, you'll always be!

While we are three...

Our weekend was hectic....but it was very much about living with no regrets. We spent time with friends and family continuing on with life but taking some moments to celebrate it. 

We're spending as much time with Ms Fancy as possible. 

Today, she we threw her a celebration party with doggie cake and treats! We had a great time and pretty sure Ms Fancy enjoyed it. She's been making the rounds visiting friends and family and we took photos with her. The one above is going to be with us for the remainder of our lives. 

I can't write too much about what we're feeling without getting that lump in the back of my throat. 

Fancy's surgery is scheduled for Wed and while we're anxious to get it over with, we also are dreading it. It could bring some much needed relief for Fancy but could also leave us even more broken-hearted. We know she is not comfortable and Wed we should know if it's the lymphoma or bladder stones.

Tough weeks...

We've had a lot of things pulling at us in terms of jobs, family, etc but I think we're going to quietly focus on Ms Fancy. 

We know there are bigger things happening around us. We're trying to be cognizant of those things and to be present. 

We've been so incredibly blessed by amazing friendships and family. Our time with them this weekend very clearly emphasized that point. Our lives have been impacted by Fancy and her undeniable loving essence. Our lives are better for having her in them! 

I can't help but think of the circle of life from Lion King. One of our good friends brought her new baby and I was so overjoyed to hold her! She's precious and very much a reminder that life ever evolves. My nephews called me as well and we broke the news of Fancy's illness to them. My oldest said well is the surgery going to make her better and I said for some time but she's very sick. My youngest says could she die? I said yes, she will likely die sometime soon... My oldest "oh that's very serious..." My youngest nephew, "but Mimi she'll go to doggie heaven and be happy!" Me: "yes, she will" and I smiled at their young and innocent perspective. 

I'm considering picking them up and spending some time with them. I'd like them to see Ms Fancy and I know they love her so.

Life continues...

Our youngest nieces turn 3 this month. Oh so struggles they had arriving into this world...but tonight! We witnessed some very 3 year old behavior. I told my husband "uhhhh lets rethink that baby business!" But in fairness my sister-in-law has two at once! They're adorable and they are talking a ton. One of them reminded me that we are buying her a Daniel the Tiger Cake and chocolate peas! I told my husband, we should appoint our nieces and nephews as long as we can...

Next Wed, we will be at a birthday party celebrating these girls! 

Thinking about their journey makes me extremely grateful. Their story could've ended so differently but here they are. Wednesday we will celebrate! 

Of course next Thursday is Thanksgiving. We have so much to be thankful for...these holidays will be bittersweet. But I am grateful for my partner in this life. Or first year of marriage has been incredible. It has not been all sunshine and roses but we've grown and we've grown together. And even in the midst of the rain and storms I find incredible comfort in knowing I've shared and will continue to share this journey with this man that I love so.

We will take some time to quietly celebrate our paper anniversary at the start of the new year.

...I'm gonna lose you

I'd been meaning to post for a while. I haven't really found an opportunity to be still with my thoughts to write. 

We moved in May and then the summer always bring a bevy of birthday celebrations. I blinked and it was Labor Day. There's been a flurry of activity between birthdays, family, and events. Toss in work and some major changes and suddenly you find its Nov and you're now 2 weeks away from Thanksgiving. 

The last few weeks have found us focused on our beloved dog, Ms Fancy. 

Oh Ms dear sweet Fancy...

She had a procedure done last week and we'd been waiting on results. Monday we got the phone call we had hoped to never receive. 

We already knew Fancy has bladder stones and that surgery would be required to remove them. The outstanding question for us was "would she be a suitable candidate?" 

Monday told us she likely would not be because she was formally diagnosed with lymphoma. 

My husband and I, along with our inner analysts, immediately began researching what that diagnosis meant. We quickly came to a grim conclusion and that is that we don't have much time with her.

Understandably, our hearts were and are broken. They will be for some time. We know it and we're at peace with what's to come. 

Most definitely doesn't make it any less painful. The last few days have been spent researching options, making plans, and rethinking the next few months of our lives. 

We also quickly set an appointment with our vet to discuss our options and confirm what we've already read. 

Today was that appointment. 

Fancy is a sweet girl. She loves people, loves going for rides, and loves food! There's nothing like see her little ears flapping in the wind and she rides in the back seat of our car with her head out the window. That's when she's happiest.

We could run her through oncology therapy but we'd only be positing the inevitable. This cancer will eventually become drug resistant. There's no cure. So this process became about understanding the disease and its process.

Our first set of question focused on managing her pain. We've had a tough several weeks. I won't go into the details but she's had a number of accidents. She stresses easily and she also knows when her humans are upset. 

Today's vet visit was tough. 

We asked all the hard questions we knew we had to ask. We'd already decided we would not put her through an oncology protocol. 

Surprisingly, our vet did recommend surgery for her bladder stones. Because we want her passing to be as painless as possible, we opted to go through with the surgery. The stones make her very uncomfortable. If not treated will eventually lead to complete blockage and then kidney failure. By the time we know her kidney's have stopped functioning, she will be in immense pain and her kidney failure will lead to death.

The things we don't know include how far the cancer has spread and what stage she is in. We'll know in part after her bladder stone surgery.

Life expectancy of lymphoma without any course of treatment is between 4 weeks to 3 months from the date of diagnosis. We're closing in on three weeks by the time she'll have her surgery. She'll have a two week healing period and then go on a steroid protocol to try and give her time to get through the holidays. 

It's a long shot but we feel like we owe it to her to minimize her pain. Ricardo and I decided that the moment she no longer wants o go for rides or is willing to accept a snack will be the time to let her go. I've heard you'll know when it's the right time and I pray that is true.

I've posted Megan Trainor's "Like I'm Gonna Lose You". While it was meant to describe a relationship between two humans...it fits our sentiments now.

We're going to love her like we're gonna lose her because we know that someday soon we will. 

My parents have always said you should celebrate life with those you love when they're alive. Why wait until they're dead? It's too late then...and so that's how I've lived life and approached love. It can be gone in a blink of an eye. 

We've decided to celebrate her now and not to wait until she's gone. I'm going to start a new blog for her. I've always found writing to be therapeutic but I also want to document our memories of her.

Ricardo and I will celebrate a year of marriage this coming Jan...a year ago, I could've never have imagined we'd find ourselves here. Whether she's with us or gone, this anniversary will be bittersweet.

There's a lot more I'd like to say but I'll pace myself. For now, trying to cherish each moment. Ricardo and I are working to establish a new routine as Fancy requires increased care. 

It's a new season...one I wish we didn't have to walk thru but if we have to, I'm grateful to have my partner, friend, and love to walk thru it with. 

This is the stuff of life...physical death was meant to be painful. We recognize that and we're bent of loving Fancy with no regrets. This season will soon pass and we know the day will come when we will be able to think about her without tears filling our eyes. We'll be able to laugh and remember all the joy she brought to our lives and we'll be grateful for this time with her. 

We know there are lessons to be learned and there's a grieving process that is both difficult and natural. As tough as it is, we've decided to embrace. And when the time comes, we let her go with dignity and grace. We'll hold her paw through that process and do whatever is within our power to let her know just how much she is loved. 

beyond measure...

Tonight, I'm joyfully preparing for my best friend's baby shower. She sent me a text last night to let me know some mutual friends had delivered their newborn, a beautiful baby girl! My feed as of recent has been full of announcements of deliveries or of expectant deliveries. I can't tell you how joyful that makes me for our friends and family members.

I don't have children. I've never been one of those women who lived my life to be a mom. I don't see anything wrong with that desire and I'm not opposed to it...it just was never very strong on my radar. I chalk it up to how I was created, how God designed me. I've certainly never been one to not celebrate the arrival of a new little one. The way they smell, how tiny they are, I marvel at creation, marvel at God's infinite wisdom in designing us...but there has always been a bit of hesitancy and relief as I return that little one to his or her mommy/daddy. I've never completely understood it...the hesitancy...I think until now.

Tonight - in the midst of a diaper cake, clipart, corsages, centerpieces; I took a moment to read a post. I stopped to read this particularly profound post because a friend of mine's name was attached to it.

She was a college mate of mine in grad school and we were project partners at one point. We became friends on facebook and like so many of you, I've followed her life transition post-grad school. I rejoiced for her when she finished pharmacy school because through my own sister, I knew what a challenge that was. When she announced she was expecting a little one, I was once again thrilled for her because it was her first-born. So of course I said a prayer for her when she posted her and her husband were awaiting the arrival of her baby boy, David, from the hospital!

Having recently married, Ricardo and I have had several of conversations about children...even before we married. Is it the right time? Are we ready?

There have a been plenty of selfish questions as well: Do we want to change our lifestyle? Are we prepared for sleepless nights? What about the expense? What about traveling? Can we financially afford to have a baby right now? What bout daycare...in the midst of a move to a new city, a new job?


I have several friends who have for reasons known or unknown delivered babies who never drew their first breaths on earth or drew their last, moments or days after their delivery.

We often want to say that we can't imagine what they are going through. There's a fallacy in that because I think we could. We may never truly understand or know the pain unless we've experienced it ourselves.

I'm an aunt to two little ones. I love those boy's more than I could ever imagine possible. They taught/continue to teach me about unconditional love. I could never compare it to the love their mother has for them...it's different, but it's deep and because I don't have children of my own - it's the only experience I can draw from. My heart hurts when they're sad...hurts when they're hurt...and in their short 10 and 7 years on this earth, they've taught me more about adult responsibility than I ever thought possible.

If you've had children or if you haven't - maybe you have nieces or nephews, maybe both: if you've waited for little ones to arrive and experienced the deep profound love that grows as your little one does, then you don't want to imagine the kind of pain that comes in losing a child...but I think you could certainly understand the depth of it.

My friend's son, David Maddux Moonjian, was called from our life to join God in Heaven on September 15, 2015. They go on to say:

In faith, we believe God has a greater plan for our baby boy in His design of our lives. Although we struggle as parents in accepting God’s plan we are comforted in knowing David will only know the love we shared for him as expecting parents and the love of family and friends awaiting his arrival in all our lives.

Just one week ago...seven days...I believe in the significance of numbers. Seven being representative of completion and perfection.

Creation Day 7 (Genesis 2:1-3)
God rests. This in no way indicates He was weary from His creative efforts, but denotes that the creation is complete. Further, God is establishing a pattern of one day in seven to rest. The keeping of this day will eventually be a distinguishing trait of the God’s chosen people (Exodus 20:8-11).

After reading my friends post, I've decided to stop asking those questions. My husband and I had already decided that if we should get pregnant then so be it and if not then the Lord has other plans for us. I believe that the Lord will give to us (child/ren) when He deems we're ready and whether we have what we need or not, He'll supply. He always has...and if He blesses us with a baby, I promise to look at our child with very different eyes...to be thankful, grateful, and present...


To my friends who have said 'good-night' to their little ones: we think of you and pray for you often!

I pray the Lord continues to be your comfort and give to you what you need in those moments you need it most!

For Eleanor, David M, and so many more:

There seem to be so many friends of mine and Brian that have either recently had babies, are soon to have babies, or will probably be expecting babies in the future. This is my plea to you:

There will be times your child will scream and cry any time you try to put him or her down. Or they'll cry even as they're in your arms and you've done everything you can possibly think of to get them to stop. There will be sleepless nights, multiple diaper changes in a matter of minutes, spit up in your hair, pee on your shirt, and poop in your hands, and again - so much screaming from the baby, and probably from you as well. Every time that happens, every time you feel frustrated and want to run away, please remember my story:

My sweet, sweet Eleanor Josephine was born sleeping September 11th. I went to bed the night of the 10th, and she was kicking away. I woke up, and she wasn't. I couldn't find the heartbeat on the home doppler. I knew. I just knew. I didn't want to know...I wanted to be mistaken, but I knew.

We went to Labor and Delivery immediately, praying the whole way there. They tried the doppler - nothing. Before they put the ultrasound wand on me, they ran the heartbeat monitor over my belly - nothing. My heart was sinking fast, and I remember thinking "This can't be happening...this is just a dream...this can't be happening...They'll find something on the ultrasound...just *something*." But these were feeble hopes, because again, I knew. I could tell they knew, too, but no one said anything until Brian (who was parking the car) got there. I could tell they were delaying, "Oh, the ultrasound machine sometimes takes a while to boot up." "I think there's something wrong with the wand...." Finally, Brian was there, they did the ultrasound, and there was silence as they all exchanged nervous glances. Finally one of them matter-of-factly said, "Hi Natalie, I'm Doctor ______ (I don't remember her name, but you don't want to know what I call her in my head). I'm sorry...there's nothing there." I keep having flashbacks to that moment. It's a crippling, all-consuming feeling of utter suffocation, and a memory that will haunt me for the rest of my life. In that moment, I felt trapped as if the ceiling was literally crashing down on top of me. I couldn't breathe, lashed out, I screamed, I threw things, I threw up...and then a piece of me died with her. I was helpless to change anything. My body was supposed to keep her safe, and instead it killed her. I was 40w6d.

A couple of hours later, I was induced. They offered me an epidural, but I couldn't do it. I needed to own it. I needed the pain, the agony, and misery to mirror what I felt in my heart. It was the hardest thing I've ever done. Ever. Dealing with the unbearable contractions, the ring of fire, the tearing...knowing that all of it was for nothing. I was delivering a lifeless child. There would be no happiness at the end of it to help me forget the pain. The pain, unlike my baby girl, would live on forever.

Then finally, after those hellish hours of labor, she was placed on my chest - gorgeous, but lifeless. There was no reason to expect that first little cry from her. Instead, it was me who sobbed. I begged her through my tears to wake up: "Please wake up, baby girl...please, wake up. Why won't you cry for mommy? Please, please, please....just wake up."

She was beautiful. She was perfect in every way. I love her so much, and the devastation I felt, and still feel, cannot even begin to be described. We got to spend 6 hours with her. We took hundreds of photos. A photographer from "Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep" came by and took even more. We bathed her, we brushed her hair, we held her, kissed her, and told her how much we loved her. And I apologized over and over again for failing her. Oh, how I failed my beautiful baby girl.

They offered to allow us to say the night, but I couldn't stay there any longer. I couldn't bear the thought of leaving my daughter, either, but I knew I was just prolonging the inevitable. As time went on, she was looking less and less like the flawless child that I brought into this world. I couldn't keep watching her deteriorate in my arms. I knew she couldn't feel any pain, but I was feeling it for her, and I had reached my breaking point. I wanted to die with her.

Around 11:30pm, we said our final goodbyes. As I stood over her and spent those last few minutes with her, blood was cascading down my legs and onto the floor. I didn't care - my womb was crying. Everything about me was crying. Watching them wheel her away broke me. My life ended then and there. They wheeled me out of the hospital and I screamed the entire way.

Monday was the funeral, and we had to go through the whole thing again. Seeing her one last time (my legs gave out from under me at first sight), singing to her, touching her cold, lifeless face, telling her how much we loved her, and me, apologizing over and over again for not being able to protect her. It was a small, intimate ceremony - 9 people total. Immediate family only. We all took turns blessing her. And once again, we said our goodbyes.

Everyone gave my husband and I one last moment with her, just the three of us. And when we were done, he and I walked arm in arm down the aisle, as our family held the doors open for us as the end of the room. I flashed back to our wedding day as we walked down the aisle as husband and wife and the doors were held open for us. The memory was such a cruel juxtaposition to the current reality. Our wedding march was joyous. This was a nightmare, this was morbid, this was wrong. Everything about it was wrong. I can still see that tiny box draped in a white cloth that held her tiny body. I had to leave her there in that cold, empty room; all alone all over again. It's a nightmare that just won't end.

I say all that to say this: my womb, my heart, and my arms are empty. There are going to be so many of you who have babies who are going to cry every time you try to put him or her down. Or they'll cry for no reason even if you're holding them and you've fed them, burped them, changed them...everything. And inevitably you're going to cry too, because you will feel so helpless and so frustrated and so clueless, and you'll want to scream, "Why won't you stop crying?!" You're going to be exhausted and angry and fed up and all you're going to want in this world is just a little time to yourself so you can sleep or shower or or eat whatever. People will tell you to just let them cry it out, that you'll otherwise just be spoiling them, as if you can spoil a child with too much love. Feel free to slap those people for me.

But please just remember, while you're awake at 3am because you have a baby in your arms keeping you up that late, I'm up at 3am because I don't. And I would give anything in this world to have a baby spitting up on me, being colicky for all hours of the day and night, screaming, not letting me put her down, cracking my nipples from breastfeeding, keeping me up all night. Instead, I have a stitched nether region, painfully engorged breasts no baby will suckle from, a flabby stomach, an empty womb, and blood that will continue to pour out of me for who knows how many more weeks. As if her death and birth wasn't traumatic enough, I still have to live with the physical effects all these many days later.

All I ask of you is when you have your dark moments with your baby - when you're at your wits' end and feel like you can't go on anymore when you're only getting an hour or two of sleep a night - instead of begging your child to go to sleep and wallowing in your frustration and exhaustion, say a prayer of gratitude for your child, as difficult as it may be in that moment. And if you would, say a prayer for me and all the mothers whose children were taken from them too soon. Say a prayer for my sweet, sweet Eleanor who never got to know life outside my womb.

Please. Do it for Eleanor. And do it for her mommy who loves her and misses her beyond measure.

At heart I'm a musician, immediately several songs came to mind.  I've posted them below.