Wednesday, December 17, 2008

One Year: Happy Birthday, Baby Ty

It amazes me that this moment is here. Last year at this time, I was in extremely painful and progressed labor, then at exactly 12:13 am, our little baby Tyler Michael was born. Following his birth, we experienced the long-awaited pride of being Tyler's Mommy and Daddy. Then hit the indescribable low valley of losing a child... way too soon. At that point, we felt like time wasn't going to move on, and we were going to be in that pit of intense pain forever. We are so thankful that the joy of remembering our baby has slowly replaced that pain of knowing he's not with us. So today, I will share one of those memories that captures how we feel about our little man...

Mike read a little book to Tyler. His Aunt Melissa (my sister) gave it to him, and it's one of the best memories we have. I first attempted to read it, but I'm happy now that my tears didn't let it happen. It was a moment meant to happen between Tyler and his Daddy.

To Tyler~ We hope you felt our immeasurable love in every word of this story, in every touch, and in every word we ever spoke or whispered to you. We will love you forever, Baby Boy, our little "Nutbrown Hare."...
~Mommy and Daddy

"Guess How Much I Love You"

Little Nutbrown Hare, who was going to bed, held on tight to Big Nutbrown Hare's very long ears. He wanted to be sure that Big Nutbrown Hare was listening.

"Guess how much I love you," he said. "Oh, I don't think I could guess that," said Big Nutbrown Hare. "This much, said Little Nutbrown Hare, stretching out his arms as wide as they could go.

Big Nutbrown Hare had even longer arms. "But I love you this much," he said. Hmm, that is a lot, thought Little Nutbrown Hare. "I love you as high as I can reach," said Little Nutbrown Hare. "I love you as high as I can reach," said Big Nutbrown Hare. That is very high, thought Little Nutbrown Hare. I wish I had arms like that.

Then Little Nutbrown Hare had a good idea. He tumbled upside down and reached up the tree trunk with his feet. "I love you all the way up to my toes," he said. "And I love you all the way up to your toes," said Big Nutbrown Hare, swinging him up over his head.

"I love you as high as I can hop!" laughed Little Nutbrown Hare, bouncing up and down. "But I love you as high as I can hop," smiled Big Nutbrown Hare--and he hopped so high that his ears touched the branches above. That's good hopping, thought Little Nutbrown Hare.
I wish I could hop like that.

"I love you all the way down the lane as far as the river,"cried Little Nutbrown Hare. "I love you across the river and over the hills," said Big Nutbrown Hare. That's very far, thought Little Nutbrown Hare. He was almost too sleepy to think anymore. Then he looked beyond the thornbushes, out into the big dark night. Nothing could be further away than the sky.

"I love you right up to the moon," he said, and closed his eyes. "Oh, that's far," said Big Nutbrown Hare. "That is very, very far." Big Nutbrown Hare settled Little Nutbrown Hare into his bed of leaves. He leaned over him and kissed him good night. Then he lay down close by and whispered with a smile,

"I love you right up to the moon-- and back."

(If you would like to celebrate Tyler's birthday with us, please read the words of that story to your own child or someone you love. Squeeze them a little tighter and love them more than ever...)

Monday, December 15, 2008


Mike and I went back to the hospital where we had Tyler. We wanted to just deliver a couple Christmas cards and trays of cookies. It was one of those things that we wanted to do, but probably dreaded at the same time. We wanted to show appreciation for the MANY awesome and caring nurses we had in labor and delivery and in the NICU there. It seemed to bring back more memories for Mike than it did for me. I'm sure that's due to the fact that most of my memories were confined to the hospital room; whereas, Mike was out and about the hospital more during those days.

The nurses were appreciative, and it was random timing, so we weren't sure which nurses or doctors we would see. Unfortunately, we did not see our "faves." Still though, I'm glad we went. I feel like each little thing like that is a moment of healing for us.

I will tell more of his story of "Six Days" sometime soon. Right now, I'm directing my heart to my sister. Please keep her in your prayers.

Monday, December 8, 2008

My Sister

Please be in prayer about Missy's next oncology appt. It's this Thursday, and she will find out if the chemo is working or not. I would REALLY appreciate it!!!

Saturday, December 6, 2008

The Days of December

Tyler's Ornament: Given December 2007

I can't believe so much time has gone by since I've written on this blog, and even more so, I can't believe that it is December already....and nearing the one year birthday and anniversary of the passing of my baby boy. In some ways it feels like it was yesterday, and it some ways it feels like a lifetime ago.

In losing a child, you don't just grieve the time you had together, you grieve all the moments that you'll never have. That's what makes grieving a lifelong process. There will always be moments when I think "Tyler would have been here."

I have really been okay with my friends' babies, and with holding them, and being sincerely happy for them. It's the random things that get me sometimes. Like walking through Old Navy and spotting that baby blue section that I used to browse. Or being in a grocery store and hearing a baby cry from 5 aisles away...the sound almost haunts me.

And now in December, it's the crisp cold air that brings his memories back even more. It's the twinkle of a Christmas light and the smell of our woodstove that bring back that ache in my heart and remind me of what I once had.

And in case you may wonder, with his anniversary may feel at a loss for what to do. You can do or say whatever you're comfortable one needs to feel like they need magic words for me. I'm okay with people talking to me about him. I'm always okay with that. I may not always be in the mood for a question though or a "how are you dealing with things." It's nothing personal...although I enjoy talking and sharing about him, sometimes questions force you to process something that a statement does not. I appreciate though any words of remembrance, thoughts or prayers that people have offered recently. It lets me know that he has not been that's my fear that he will be.

There has been so much on my heart and mind that I would like to write about on here. So many moments of healing, so many things I've learned, and so many moments that I've just missed my little boy. But mostly, it's the learning to let go of the pain, and instead holding on more tightly to the joy of the moments. It's been about the moving on from the "what-if's" and the "why's" and just letting the peace of God fill those spaces instead. It's been about me choosing to believe in the dark what I had always known in the light.

I have told a lot of his story on here, but I have yet to tell the story of "Six Days." It's taken me a while, but I'd like to give a bigger glimpse of our unforgettable time with him. I know all this may feel heavy to read, but it will be from my heart...and I don't know any other way to tell it.