Clarissa: 6 years

Lest you wonder, we did NOT forget our little girl's birthday on Sunday.

My mom came with us to the cemetery.  You'd think by the pictures that Jackson was missing her.  Nah, he was just ready to go home.  :)  Love that seven year old.

Memorial Day Weekend 2011

My parents came to visit again this year, and it was so good to see them.  It was a much-needed break for them, and I enjoyed the night my mom and I stayed up talking and giggling.  They even got to hear me give a talk in church, which, believe it or not, made me more nervous that they were there. 

Mom got to attend Jackson's school, too, and he kept her busy doing a lot of "homework," which was actually A LOT of drawing. 

The best part of their "school day" was when they came out to the living room for P.E., and he told my mom, "Okay, now do this," and he demonstrated a push-up.  My mom, who is long past doing push-ups laughed and said, "Uh, I'm not doing that."


On Sunday, we visited the cemetery and took pictures. 

That blue item you see in Jackson's hand is what Grandma bought for him -- a telescope!  He was so excited he got to pick something out. 

He really wanted to take a picture of all of us since we were all taking turns taking pictures.  He took the picture of the flowers, too.

Easter Recap

Apparently, I forgot to blog about Easter this year.  The condensed version for you:

• Trip to the cemetery to visit Clarissa's grave.
• Walked around the temple grounds to remind us that families can be together forever.
• Had a big Easter dinner with our good friends and then did some fun activities with the kids with marshmallows and dried spaghetti.
• Had some "Peeps Wars," but were unable to enjoy them because our microwave has such a good "screen" on the door.

Cemetery:

Jackson HAD to have a windmill for his flower garden, and we decided to pick one out for Clarissa, too.  Jackson asked many questions about her.  "Can she talk to me?  Can she come to my house?"  Then, of course, the conversation turned to, "Mom, I want my baby Emily. . ."  If you don't know, that's the name Jackson has picked out for a future baby sister.

Temple:

Apparently it was "Missionary Sunday."  It was packed with Elders (and a few Sisters) taking the classic "I'm-a-goofball-doing-goofy-shots-with-my-district" photos; and there were a few families taking Easter Sunday photos.  Apparently, we missed the memo.  We were the only family with the parents in Sunday best with a child (who had stayed home from church because of a cold) who was dressed in his basketball gear.  Yeah, I didn't feel out of place at all.

Dinner and Friends:
I wish I had taken pictures of the spaghetti and marshmallow challenges, but only Dave did that.  We sure had fun, even though the dads were sure to be on a team against everyone else.  Nothing like stacking a team to make sure you win.

Day of Hope

A very good friend asked if I would share my testimony of Jesus Christ as it relates to Easter and Clarissa in a few sentences for her children's music lesson in church.  I want to share it here today because my heart is full as it always is on this Day of Hope.

Easter has become my favorite holiday because of its meaning.  Over five years ago, I had a baby girl who was born too small to live for more than a few minutes because she was born so early.  She was one pound and the size of a small baby doll.  She was the most precious thing I ever held.  When she was born, I knew she wouldn't live for very long, and that broke my heart.  After she died, I was the saddest I had ever been.  Only one truth gave me comfort.  That truth is the resurrection. 

Over 2000 years ago another baby was born.  He grew to be a man, and he suffered for our sins, our pains and our sorrows, and then he died for us.  Three days after he died, he conquered death by being resurrected.  This gift is given to all of us.  I know that one day my little girl will be resurrected and that she, too, will conquer death because Jesus Christ did.  One day my little girl will live again, and she will be able to be reunited with her body again.  I will get to hold her and be her mommy again if I keep my covenants.  Easter means hope.  Easter reminds me that we will live again and be reunited with those we love.  I know that Jesus Christ is our Savior, that he loves us, and that he lived and died for all of us.  I bear my testimony of him that He lives again.  In the name of Jesus Christ.  Amen.

Replaceable but Meaningful

Two days ago I was talking on the phone to my sister-in-law when I heard the crash in the living room.  At first I was confused, but as I looked around the corner, it became clear.  My heart sank, and I couldn't bear to analyze the wreckage for the first moments.  I could see that something was completely smashed, and although I didn't want to look, my heart knew and just sank.

After I got off the phone, I stood at the edge of the couch looking down at the mess behind it.  Two of my shelves had fallen off the wall; one of which held several porcelain keepsakes.  Most of them I could see were intact, but there was one, just one, that I could only see the base, and the top of the shelf sat upside down on top of it.  I didn't want to look, but I had to confirm it.

My dear friend who is staying with us, helped me pull back the couch and move the larger shelf.  After a very quick surveillance, my head acknowledged what my heart already knew.  I had to turn my head and fight back tears and a sob.  I reached down and picked up the pieces to a beloved statue of Jesus Christ embracing a child.  It was a gift I had received from my brother's in-laws (who are just like family) at Clarissa's graveside.  Replaceable.  That's how I comforted myself.  "It's just a thing, I can buy a new one."  I vowed I would buy one within a couple of days.  Replaceable but meaningful. I couldn't bear the thought of the crushed statue being gone for more than a couple of minutes. I knew right where I could get one.

Last night as Matt and I sat visiting with our dear friends, their little girl approached me with a new statue.  Suddenly strange events that afternoon and evening made sense.  Matt had called me around 5:30 and said, "I'm in the truck with D------," and so I expected them home within 15 minutes, but they didn't arrive for another 45 minutes.  When they did return, they were outside for several minutes, and then our friend said he had to take off again.

When their sweet daughter handed me the statue, they explained what had happened.  The wife had called her husband and told him that he needed to buy a new one before I could.  She had noticed my emotions although I tried to contain them, and she knew just how special it was to me; and she knew I planned to go out and buy one today.  There are about three or four things that I treasure most, and that statue was one of them.

Apparently, the men drove to 3-4 different places scouring store shelves with no luck.  Matt suggested that they return to the house and pull the statue base out of the trash can because he remembered seeing a label on the bottom.  Little did he know that I had filled it with yard waste after working in the garden. After digging through yard waste and house waste, they finally found the base and took a picture of it.  The sculptor had a phone number on the bottom, and our friend called her.  He found where she sold them, and he quickly left so he could make it there before the store closed at 7:00 p.m.

I know it is just a statue.  I know it is just a thing.  For me, it is more than that.  For me, it embodies my emotions the day I buried my little girl.  Now the statue embodies that hope as well as standing for true friendship and love.  Now instead of just one meaning, it has multiple.  I'm thankful for things like true friendship and memories that are NOT replaceable and very meaningful.

Thank you to my dear, dear friend who was very discerning and her husband who was very diligent and persistent in finding it.  I love you!

P.S.  Don't worry -- no more sitting on high shelves that just might come crashing down.

Prematurity Awareness Day 2010

Did you know that today is Prematurity Awareness Day?  You didn't?  Well, I only found out a couple of weeks ago, so I forgive you.  (Is it just me, or does it seem like November is Awareness Month for everything?)

Well, I can't go today without honoring my preemies.    First up, my little fighter, Jackson.  To honor Jackson, I'm going to post one of the poems that I wrote for him on his first birthday.

Looking Back

You said it would be a roller coaster ride.

Actually, it was an amusement park.

You said that it wouldn’t be easy.

You were right – sometimes it was even dark.

You said he was going to be small,

But he was bigger than you’d intended.

You told us it’d be a long road –

Not about the way he would mend.

No, I don’t blame You.

He surpassed all of our expectations –

Even when we didn’t know what they were.

He held us in anticipation.

You said he could come at any time.

And he did.  There was no way to stop him.

He’d made up his mind that it was right then –

You told us the odds and the maybes.

He would listen and take it as a challenge.

Staring down Death was a sport to him.

You told us he wouldn’t make it,

But he did – it didn’t turn out so grim.

Everyday he reminds us of his courage and strength.

His determination pulls him through;

He seems to tell us:

Have faith in all that you do.

His story’s not quite done,

The author’s still writing.

More struggles and trials are yet to come,

Just don’t be surprised if when “The End” is near,

That Jackson, the determined warrior,

Has conquered all fear.

Written by LeMira

January 2005

Jackson's theme song is "Eye of the Tiger" by Survivor.  To this day, Jackson is a fighter (believe me, he fights me the most -- I would know!).  He's also a very sensitive little boy who loves life.  He loves to make people smile and laugh, and he just loves to have fun.  No one can make a funny face like my Jackson!  I love you, Bud!  Thanks for sticking around.

I can't do a preemie post without mentioning my angel, Clarissa.  I wrote the following poem for her scrapbook that I finish by her due date in January.

Tiny fingers,

tiny toes

A cute little face

With a button nose.

Angelic features,

And although small,

I’m sure one day

She’ll be at least

Six feet tall.

Small enough

In the palm

 of my hand,

but fills my heart

oh, so grand.

Written by LeMira

January 2006

Clarissa's theme song is "I Feel My Savior's Love."  It's the song Natalie and her sister played at Clarissa's graveside.  I can't think of that song without crying.   

In honor of my preemies, I have their songs on my playlist for a couple of days.

To my babies, Momma Loves You!  I'm glad you're mine.

Hold On

Grief. . . why do we hang on to the pain for so long? 

Five years ago the saying "Time heals all pain" was something I couldn't grasp.  It made no sense to me.  My pain blasted all reason.  My heart failed me almost every day.  I couldn't understand anyone "letting go."  What did that mean? A friend who had experienced similar grief told me that it would get better over time, but I couldn't imagine. For some reason it seems like if we let go of the pain then we diminish the memories and demean the love, the meaning of that person's life in ours.

I've talked before about the wounds.  The cuts are deep, and your heart is never the same.  I have friends who have experienced those same feelings, although our life experiences are very different.  The wound  scars over, and a dull ache remains and is a constant reminder.    Like a child, we hold our wound, nurse it ourselves.    The "Band-Aid" is there, but for some reason we can't grasp it, for that would mean healing and letting go, saying "good-bye." 

Sometime during the last year, I released my pain.  I feel different.  Don't get me wrong, I miss my daughter daily, and some days I still ache for her, but the ache isn't paralyzing pain anymore.   The thing is, though, I can't tell you exactly when I let go of the pain.  I just remember one day thinking, "it doesn't hurt."  Granted, I feel pain some days, when my heart and soul ache for my daughter, for my family to be all together.

Do you want to know the most amazing thing?  The pain is gone, but the love remains.  In fact, the love is deeper than I could have imagined.  When I think of Clarissa, my heart fills with a deep, abiding love.  Yes, absence does make the heart grow fonder.    Somehow I've held on to her, but let go of the pain.

(See, Jackson is holding on, but smiling. . . hehe. . . had to find somewhere in the post to put my cute boy!)

 

To my friends who are still aching, grieving, I know that it's a day by day process for a long time, and guess what?  That's okay.  I spent many, many hours wishing, missing, longing, and crying.  It's okay.  One day, yes one day, it will heal, and you will let go.  It will come naturally.  It's okay.  IT'S OKAY.   Hold on.


Last night as I lay in bed thinking about this post and trying to fall asleep, Wilson Phillips' song "Hold On" kept playing over and over in my head.  So, here's the link, just for you to click and enjoy. 

Wilson Phillips - Hold On

Time to Say Good-Bye

Did you miss the season finale of America's Got Talent?  Me, too, and so tonight I watched it on Hulu.  I've found a new favorite song; and I think I'm going to add Jackie Evancho's first album to my Amazon Wish list.  I hope she has this song on there.  Watch the video, and you will see what I mean.

Yes, that little girl is only ten years old.  Ten! The feelings I felt while listening to this song are indescribable, and a dear friend gave me a brief interpretation.  I decided to look it up.  Now I'm going to get real personal.  Next week is Clarissa's fifth birthday.  I can't help but watch those two sing and think of me and my little girl.  I love her, and I know you'll hear more about her in the next week. 

Sissy, I love you and miss you.  This song's for you. . .

Time to Say Goodbye
----------------------

When I'm alone
I dream on the horizon
And words fail;
Yes, I know there is no light
In a room
Where the sun is not there
If you are not with me.
At the windows
Show everyone my heart
Which you set alight;
Enclose within me
The light you
Encountered on the street.

Time to say goodbye,
To countries I never
Saw and shared with you,
Now, yes, I shall experience them,
I'll go with you
On ships across seas
Which, I know,
No, no, exist no longer;
With you I shall experience them.

When you are far away
I dream on the horizon
And words fail,
And yes, I know
That you are with me;
You, my moon, are here with me,
My sun, you are here with me.
With me, with me, with me,

Time to say goodbye,
To countries I never
Saw and shared with you,
Now, yes, I shall experience them,
I'll go with you
On ships across seas
Which, I know,
No, no, exist no longer;
With you I shall re-experience them.
I'll go with you
On ships across seas
Which, I know,
No, no, exist no longer;
With you I shall re-experience them.
I'll go with you,
I with you.

Easter 2010

Easter this year was pretty low-key for us. On Saturday afternoon, we colored eggs,

and then after the snow finally melted (by about 4 p.m.), we did an Easter egg hunt for Jackson in our backyard. I don't worry about what I put inside the eggs because he's more excited to find them and to count them. We actually told him how many there were (15) so he could keep track. With a little help and a few hints, he found all of the eggs that Daddy hid.Ken, Aimee, and Annie came for dinner that evening. Ken and Matt went to the Priesthood Session of General Conference, and Aimee and I visited. You know, the best thing about having so many brothers is that I get to meet and enjoy six wonderful, amazing women that put up with my brothers, and that are some of my greatest friends. I sure love them all!

On Easter morning, Jackson found the basket (yes, you read that right - we get a family Easter basket) that the Easter bunny left. Jackson was sad the bunny didn't stick around for breakfast; but he didn't complain what was left behind (candy, a bubble blower, and a new set of scriptures for him).
After our traditional ham dinner after we watched all the sessions of General Conference, we visited the cemetery, sang a primary song for Clarissa, and thanked the Lord for the gift of Resurrection. I do not fear death. I only fear the pain that comes from the loss of death, but I do not fear Death - especially when I have a special girl that will be waiting for me to go home.

Giving Back

This morning I woke up feeling very undeserving. Very. To sum it up for you: "Mom Guilt." It was during my cool-down portion of my exercise routine that I got the undeserving phone call.

Let me back up/review my past for you. Six years ago, I had a 25-week preemie. At my six-week follow-up appointment, my OB/GYN wrote off the balance we owed him as a "professional courtesy" because he said that we would have too many other worries, and he didn't want us to have this one. I left the appointment in shock.

One year and a half later, I once again sat in his office at my six-week follow-up appointment following my short-lived (22-week) pregnancy with Clarissa. At this appointment, my OB/GYN lovingly (sounds odd, but my doctor is a great man) recommended that I never get pregnant again. The health risks (dying) were too great. Once again he told me that he would accept whatever our insurance paid and that should I get a bill that I should send it to him with the words "personal" written on it, and he would write off the balance again as a "professional courtesy." Again, I was speechless. I tried to thank him, but it just didn't feel enough.

I decided that the best way to pay him back was to keep giving him my business although I knew that I would not need him to be my OB, just my GYN. I would always pay the bill. He deserved to be paid. (I failed to mention that during all four of my pregnancies, he was always very comforting and supportive. He ALWAYS took the time to listen and answer my questions no matter what they were and when I asked them-- for instance, in the middle of my C-Section with Clarissa).

With my doctor, I talked about several "birth control" options: IUD, tubal ligation, hysterectomy, the pill, etc. After 3 years of being on the pill, I was done with that option. When I mentioned tying my tubes, he said he'd do it that week if I were absolutely positive that's what I wanted to do, but he wouldn't do it if we (meaning my husband and I) weren't emotionally ready for that step.

We decided on an IUD. My insurance, however, decided against the IUD. I was left to pay the full price. I got the IUD, and my doctor left on sabbatical (LDS medical mission) for a year. I began paying what I could when I could on the bill. I was determined to pay it off as soon as I could and in full. My doctor deserved it.

By now, you've probably guessed my phone call. Two weeks ago I called the doctor's office because I hadn't seen a bill in about two months. I knew my doctor had returned from his mission and was probably getting readjusted (he decided to join the medical group next door). This morning, my doctor's secretary, his daughter, called to inform me that he has decided to write it off as a "professional courtesy."

We have been recipients of a great gift. This doctor is not the first doctor to do this for us multiple times. Jackson's eye doctor has written off our bill several times as well when it was getting financially stressful to pay bills.

Matt and I feel that we can no longer sit back and just say, "Thank You" to these giving men. We want to give back/pay it forward. I have a couple ideas of what we can do, but I would love some more. Have any ideas for us? We'd love to hear them.

Christmas Afternoon

After relaxing, watching Jackson play with his toys, putting in a movie or two, calling family on the phone and on the computer, we ate our Christmas dinner together.

I was amazed that we only had one casualty, a poor stemware glass that didn't dodge Robert's elbow fast enough.
Oh, well, at least the glass didn't get in the food, right?

It was an easy dinner as I planned much in advance and use a lot of ready-to-eat food. Still, it was yummy.

(Kristin, Robert, Jackson, LeMira, Matt)

Following dinner, Matt, Jackson, and I took our trip to the cemetery to do one last special Christmas tradition.

It was cold, and so we didn't last long, but Jackson still wanted to share his microwave with Sissy for a few minutes.


I, of course, shed a few "Missing My Daughter" tears, then thought of the grand celebration in heaven, and smiled. She was probably enjoying Christmas, too.

Thanks, Robert and Kristin, for coming and enjoying Christmas with us.

Christmas in Heaven

I read an uplifting poem called Christmas in Heaven. I know my Little One is celebrating, too. I'm sure the celebration is big up there. . .

We'll take over a poinsettia for her tomorrow.


For those of you missing Loved Ones this Christmas, here's a cyber-hug!

Merry Christmas!

Angel's Embrace

I've thought of what to post for a couple of days now. I've had the start of a poem, and many emotions running through me. If I'd written this yesterday, it would have been very different. Yesterday, I was a flood. Emotions were flowing, tears were stinging, and my soul was craving. This morning, however, I am calm and at peace. Yet, I do still have a wish list.

I WISH:
I could just reach down and hug and kiss my little girl.
There were days (probably every day) that I would have to break up fights between Jackson and his little sister.
Jackson would know his sister, that she wasn't just someone we talk about.
I could hold her for a minute longer.
I could buy pink, girly things.
She could play with her cousins, she has five of them that are all within 6 months age of each other.
We could have her four-year old birthday party today with her blowing out the candles on the cake that she chose.

THINGS FOR WHICH I AM GRATEFUL:
I do not have to worry about where she will grow up, or what she will be exposed to.
She did not have to endure the roller coaster ride of the NICU.
Friends and family who love me and who tell me.
Those who do not forget.
My Savior, Jesus Christ, who makes it possible for me to be with her again.
The Temple of the Lord, where I can feel her spirit near.


Finally, I want to say a big "thank-you" to my sister-in-law, Amy. Right now she is dealing with her own set of challenges, and yet she thought of us. She has sent a present to each one of the "cousins", and she did not want to leave out Clarissa. I love what she sent, and I too am most grateful for the angels that surround us.

Angel's Embrace

THANK YOU, for all of you who have been my angels, embracing me when I need it.

A sign of healing

In my dreams last night (or this morning, however you look at it), I dreamed that I was holding the cutest dark-haired, dark-eyed baby girl in a beautiful white blessing gown. It was not Clarissa, and I was not feeling guilty. When I woke up, I quickly rolled over so I could see that baby again in my dreams. I think I'm ready for a baby for my family, not to replace a void in my life. After four years, I can say that I'm truly ready to move on. I can separate my grief for my daughter from my longing for a new baby.

3 Years

I remember reading a blog about a year ago of a mother who had lost her sweet little boy in a tragic accident. She mentioned that she is not the same person since then. Although saying good-bye to my little girl was not nearly as traumatic as this other mom's story, I can agree about not being the same.

Anyway, today is Clarissa's third birthday. The pain of losing her is not nearly as hard as it was, however, the pains of missing her come and go quite acutely. For instance, today as I was sitting on a ride at California Adventure, I realized that I could have been there with two kids instead of one. I realize that having two kids would have been chaotic, but seeing little girls dressed in princess and Minnie Mouse dresses made me miss her more. I longed to buy the girlie toys just for her.

While visiting Bonnie, I found another Sharon Creech book I hadn't yet read: Chasing Redbird. I had no idea what it was about, but it was the perfect book to read this week. A little girl starts to understand grief, and I needed this book. I needed to grieve again, otherwise I feel empty and depressed holding it in. I could relate completely to the characters in the book, and it kept me connected to my grief. I know it sounds slightly morbid, but it's really not. The book gave me an outlet to reflect on my situation and allow to be with Sissy although I'm not home this week.

So, when I get home in a couple of days, you can bet we'll have some better posts about the last few days of our vacation and our lessons from Disneyland. It got better with each day. That much I can tell you.

Happy Birthday, Sissy! We love you and miss you!

"Til' Next We Meet"

FYI: A Lesson in Grieving

(Clarissa's burial dress)

Over the last several months, I've occasionally heard some sad stories about grieving friends and others whom I have never met. In several of these cases, the grieving people talk of loved ones who are trying to help, but have no clue that what they're really doing is adding stress and anger. Coming from someone who grieves a little each day, here are some dos and don'ts to help you know what you can do to help.

DO: Pray for them that they can find comfort and peace.
DON'T: Lecture or tell them how they can find peace. For example, don't say, "You don't need to cry, your loved one is in heaven." Most of the time, we already know this, but it doesn't take away the pain of LOSS. The truth does give comfort, but usually grief is not for where the person may be but it's about what we don't have, what we are missing, or the pain and trauma of how we lost that special person.

DO: Call, send a card, give flowers, send an email or note, or drop by for a visit if you feel like you get those promptings in your heart. It's always nice to know that someone is thinking about you. Also, if you happen to remember an anniversary of someone's loss, don't be afraid to call someone and let them know you were thinking of them. You can bet they're thinking of it that day, and it's so nice when someone calls. My mom and dad are great at this!

DON'T: Expect someone to be "done" grieving. Grief never fully goes away, but the pain lessens over time. NEVER, EVER tell someone that it's time for them to "move on." Nothing can ever replace the loss, and grieving is different for everyone. You may think you know someone who seemed to move past the loss quickly, but let's be honest and admit that we never truly know the inner strugglings of someone else. They may wear a happy face in public, but in private they may shed many tears.
Story: A friend of mine asked me once "How long is it okay to grieve?" I told her to take as long as she needed. She then proceeded to tell me about a cousin of hers who told her that she needed to get over her loss because her emotions and depression were hard on the rest of the family and bringing them down. Ouch! That's like saying, "we're done comforting you, so you're on your own."

DO: Expect the grief/emotions to hit at unexpected times. Although the pain of my loss has greatly lessened, the grief and pain every once in a while hit at random times (at least it may seem that way to others). Remember my Toys R Us experience?

DO: Let the grieving person talk about their experiences and loved ones as much as they need. It's very healing to be able to let your emotions, thoughts, and feelings out.
DON'T: Feel uncomfortable when they talk about their experiences, they're not trying to get you to feel bad, it's usually because that's is what is on their mind. Also, the more you're there for someone, the easier for that person to find peace and comfort. (Thanks to Natalie who was at my house EVERY day for a long time afterwards, and who never chides me for my moments. Love you!)

Finally, thank you to all of you who try your best to help someone who is mourning. Overall, I know that people in general are trying to be helpful, but they sometimes say things that hurt, and they don't realize it. (It happened to me.) I hope this helps somewhat.

(Clarissa's shadowbox that hangs on my living room wall.)

Clarissa Moment

Yesterday I ran to Toys R Us for my mom to pick up some doll accessories for my little niece for Christmas. Unexpectedly at the check-out, I thought of my little girl (who would be the same age as my niece), and I wished I was buying these for her. I hadn't had a "Clarissa Moment" in a while, and of course it had to come in the middle of the toy store. At least being in public helped me to keep my emotions in check because I really did want to cry. I'm grateful for Jesus Christ, and that he is the reason for the season because it's He that saves us and He that allows my little girl to live.

Special Day

"But Jesus said, Suffer little children, and forbid them not, to come unto me: for of such is the kingdom of heaven." Matthew 19:14

Happy 2nd Birthday, Clarissa! We love you and miss you.

Dreams

Dreams

In my dreams I see you again.
I hold you,
hug you,
kiss you,
keep you safe.
I look into your beautiful eyes,
pleased to be your mother,
proud to call you
DAUGHTER.

In my dreams, we're reunited.
I taste a bit of Heaven,
feel the love,
long for more,
spark a connection in our hearts.
I hold you close and shed some tears,
some of remorse
some of longing,
some of hope,
but most are of
LOVE.

In my dreams, I see how you've grown.
I miss you,
love you,
long for you once more.