Our Big 10 Month-ers!

Look how big our boys are getting! They have certainly grown our broken hearts and brought us joy... We are so thankful for these little guys! Before long we'll be planning birthday parties. Planning birthdays is a bittersweet moment in time. We are gloriously happy to be planning 1st birthday parties for our little men, but at the same time- it's a reminder that Ethan and Lila spent their first b-days in Heaven. It will continue to be this way every year until we hold those precious little people in our arms again someday. I have a smile on my face just thinking about hugging Lila so tight and looking over to see Wendi holding Ethan. :)))

City Babe: Quinn

Country Babe: Jude

Showing off his clapping skills for sissy. Not much of a baby anymore- starting to look like a toddler.

This swing ride looks uncomfortable, but he thought it was great."Oh, Mom, Did you put these away? Cuz I'm not done with them yet."

"I'll just drag them all out again- one by one."

City Mom: The Beginning

WARNING: THE FOLLOWING POST MAY BE HARD FOR SOME VISITORS TO READ DUE TO ITS RAW EMOTIONAL AND DESCRIPTIVE NATURE. This by far the hardest post I've written, and it discusses some of the real and hard feelings I felt immediately after my son's death. I felt the need to provide this warning because I know that some of our readers might be especially sensitive to this subject given their own personal experiences. Please refrain from reading if you are not emotionally ready. We will understand, I promise.

.........................

I was going to start this post by trying to explain what it’s like to have a happy, healthy baby one second, only to check on that baby a short while later to find them blue and lifeless - but you know what, I don’t think I can explain it. If you’ve been there, you already know, and if you haven’t been there, my words couldn’t even come close. It’s unbelievable to me still, and I’ve been there. It’s unnatural. It’s surreal, and for a long time I felt absolutely removed from myself… For days I would just look at my empty hands and feel that all of their purpose had been ripped away from them. And no matter how much I wanted WITH EVERY SINGLE THING I HAD IN ME for that to be different and for things to be back to the way they were the minutes before I found my son dead, it never would be.

Take a second now, and just think about how simple it is to breathe. Think about it…you’re doing it right now as you’re reading this - and probably before I mentioned it, you didn’t even pay much notice to it, did you?… It just comes natural to us…it’s just what our bodies are meant to do, it just feels simple…

But there I was, staring at my son’s small, lifeless body, screaming for him to please DO THAT SIMPLE THING. To just breathe…IN… OUT… IN… OUT…

A request that would ultimately go unfulfilled.

The paramedics arrive. My husband and I would then be led to follow behind the ambulance that carried my son as they transported him to the hospital. We screamed repeatedly in the car, at the officer driving us to please hurry, that our baby was in there, all while holding on to a shred of hope that this all might not be real.

But it was real.

I remember a desperate thought running through my head… “This can’t be right. He can’t be gone. He has a doctor’s appointment in two weeks, they can figure out what is wrong with him then.”

…

A split second after that, I’m remembering the tiny scab he had on his nose from where he had scratched himself by accident a couple of days before. The idea that I would never get to see it heal because his body had failed him was suddenly too painful for me to bear.

I lost it.

In the dark, wrapped in a blanket between the cold walls of a hospital room, I held my son for the last time. I remember not wanting to touch his skin... I was scared of what it felt like without life in it. How ridiculous of me, but at the time I didn't know what to do and I was scared beyond scared. But I held him, and I just kept asking WHY.

WHY HIM, WHY NOW, WHY NOT ME?

I didn't know how to say goodbye to him. I just wasn't prepared.

Despite not wanting any part of it, they medicated me to help me calm down. I felt like I was in a coma with my eyes open.

In the days after his death I had to make decisions I never thought I would ever have make in my life. From deciding if we wanted to donate any of his organs to different organizations, to going through all of the paperwork required for the obituary to run in the paper. Here I wanted nothing more than to just hold my son… to feel his skin and for it to be warm, but instead I was walking a cemetery, looking at different plots and trying to decide where to lay our son’s body to rest for eternity. I remember sitting with a lady in a dimly lit room at the funeral home. There were different samples of headstones hanging on the walls and in front of us, next to the box of tissues, was a catalog. She flipped through page upon page of little icons and pictures that we could choose to put on his gravestone... to decorate it. “We could choose 3”, she said. – I remember thinking… I can hardly breathe, so how can I make this decision right now? I don’t want to make this decision right now, or ever for that matter. I just wanted to scream at the top of my lungs for everything around me to just STOP, but I didn’t have the energy.

I felt like a zombie.

I knew I was alive, because I had to be, but I didn’t feel alive anymore. At that point, if a bus came screeching into the building, tearing away at the walls and taking me with it, I would have been just fine with it. I may have even wished for it. My will to live was about to get buried 6 feet under, right next to a little boy named Ethan.

……………

I’m just going to say it, anybody who has lost a child and is still here and able to get out of bed every day is a survivor. Seriously. It takes so much to find good in this world again after experiencing such a loss, but I am so glad that I fought that fight to get to where I am now. I could have never done it alone.

I owe my sanity to my amazing husband Jason, my Mom (only God knows how much I love her, and I mean it), my Pop for holding me that night in his arms, my Aunt Lala for just hugging me so tight for so long, my amazing sisters and brother who despite feeling the pain right along with me, pulled me onto their shoulders and helped to carry me through some of the darkest days (talking about you too Tine), My MIL and FIL for opening their arms and doors to us, my cousins, nieces and nephews for all of their unconditional love and for giving me a reason to smile again,… so many others (you know who you are). And of course, Carrie, for finding me and for being the support I needed to continue forward on that difficult, but worthwhile road to brighter days…

This has been hard to write. I realize that I didn’t have to share this, but I wanted to. In order to see how far I’ve come in my journey, you’ve got to see where I started.

City Mom: Picnic Pics

The weather was lovely today here in the city. It actually felt a bit like a Spring day. After Quinn woke up from his nap I decided we'd head outside for a mini picnic to take it all in.


Then, Quinn decided to surprise me by saying "ba ba!" ba ba!" -- Ok, so I don't know if he knows exactly all that he is saying, but he will repeat after me very clearly if I ask him to say it so I think it counts :). This is technically his second "word" since he's been saying "Da Da!" on demand for a couple of months now. You have no idea how many times a day I am in his face saying "Noooo, you meant to say Ma Ma! MA...MA!!". I suppose one day he will say it, if I don't traumatize him in the process :)

I think about how when Ethan was here, I never got to hear him speak a word, nor did I ever get the chance to feed him real baby food... I can truly say, without a doubt, that I cherish these moments with Quinn about a bajillion and one times more because of that. It's those little things that mean so much. Ethan has enriched my life in so many ways, and for that, I will always carry a grateful heart.

Our Big 9 Monthers!

If you haven't already read our story about getting pregnant at the same time after our loss- Check that story out HERE. Here are our big 9 monthers!

City Babe: Quinn

Country Babe: Jude

Hey, It's me! - City Mom

Hello our lovely blog readers! Carrie, aka Country Mom, has done such a fabulous job with keeping this blog going nicely, hasn't she? I apologize for my bit of absence recently. The family and I have been partaking in some good old fashioned house hunting. Fun, eh? :)

Well, I just have to say... When Carrie and I started this blog, all we could hope for is that we'd be able to pass along a little bit of support and love to other Moms out there just like us - and guess what? We've met some amazing Moms so far! We look forward to continuing to build and work on those relationships, so thank you for sharing your story and your child with us. We are so honored.

This blog has begun to grow and flourish into something truly wonderful. So thank you, all of you, for trusting us enough to confide in us, for believing in us enough to vote for us, for reading along with us as we reveal some pretty big parts of ourselves to you, and for being ridiculously awesome enough to allow us into your hearts. It truly is a great feeling; we are so appreciative, and it's rather comfy in here I might add. :)

Vintage City Mom

I found some photos of my twin brother and I when we were just little babes! I'm taking you back people. Back to when City Mom's life was easy-peasy, her hair was blond, and all she cared about in the world were Lisa Frank Stickers, Hello Kitty Stationary, Freezer Pops, Capri Suns and Ramen Noodles (For the record, I still care about the Ramen Noodles. I'm pretty sure they eat those in Heaven).

Enjoy!

Hanging on our Grandma and Grandpa's deck in Rockland County, NY during a family soft ball game. My Mom dressed us so cute. :)


I'm pretty sure this one was taken on one of our Birthdays... 4, maybe 5? I remember that we both got big wheels from our Aunt Billie and as far as young kid life goes, this qualified as THE BEST DAY EVER.

Back in the day at Seashore State Park I believe. That's my Aunt there in the back - the one who got us the Big Wheels. I LOVE YOU AUNT BILLIE - :)


School photo, back before they brought in the lasers
YOU KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT.

A) My sweater is awesome, but I should have been wearing THIS ONE that my Nana bought me (and for the curious, my brother got MC Hammer).

B) FRECKLES!!!!!! Believe it or not, I no longer have them.
Who knew you could outgrow freckles?

Just For Today

I came across this several months ago and saved it - Now seems like the perfect time to share it..

Just For Today

Just for today I will try to live through the next 24 hours
and not expect to get over my child's death,
but instead learn to live with it, just one day at a time.

Just for today I will remember my child's life, not just his death,
and bask in the comfort of all those treasured days
and moments we shared.


Just for today I will forgive all the family and friends
who didn't help or comfort me the way I needed them to.
They truly did not know how.


Just for today I will smile no matter how much I hurt on the inside,
for maybe if I smile a little,
my heart will soften and I will begin to heal.


Just for today I will reach out to comfort a relative or friend of my child,
for they are hurting too,
and perhaps we can help each other.


Just for today I will free myself from my self-inflicted burden of guilt,
for deep in my heart I know if there was anything in this world
I could of done to save my child from death,
I would of done it.


Just for today I will honor my child's memory
by doing something with another child
because I know that would make my own child proud.


Just for today I will offer my hand in friendship
to another bereaved parent
for I do know how they feel.


Just for today when my heart feels like breaking,
I will stop and remember that grief is the price we pay for loving
and the only reason I hurt is because
I had the privilege of loving so much.


Just for today I will not compare myself with others.
I am fortunate to be who I am
and have had my child for as long as I did.


Just for today I will allow myself to be happy,
for I know that I am not deserting him by living on.


Just for today I will accept that I did not die when my child did,
my life did go on,
and I am the only one who can make that life worthwhile once more.


-Vicki Tushingham

City Mom: The Desire to be Happy Again

As much as it is a very personal matter for me to discuss the loss of my child, I realize that a lot of people feel that it is too sad or too dark of a part of themselves to share... something that is better whispered or abbreviated in conversation (if not skipped altogether). But for me and other parents who have experienced the loss of a child, it is a very BIG part of who we are. Oftentimes, however, we can't help but feel that we should only talk about our child with our head hung low - but why! In my heart, I feel so blessed and grateful to have had that time with Ethan that I COULD SHOUT IT FROM A MOUNTAIN TOP! (OR THREE!)

But, here's an honest fact: Sometimes it's just hard to talk about in few words, and confessing to a friendly stranger who asks how many children you have that you really have 2 and not just 1 because 1 died, equals a really awkward situation. For me, being asked that question was difficult, but mostly because the honest answer to the question was likely going to make the person who asked it feel incredibly sorry for asking it in the first place. I hated that feeling; that making-them-feel-sorry feeling.

One way to handle this situation is to not answer the question honestly to try to avoid said awkwardness. Not the best solution. I know this, because I did it once. After Ethan died I didn't leave the house for weeks. When I finally ventured out, a woman who had seen me previously in passing when I was pregnant asked with extreme enthusiasm "Ohhh, where is the baby!???" --- I froze. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know how to talk about it, nor did I want to hear myself say it. And then there was that whole making-them-feel-sorry thing I mentioned. So, all I could manage to get out was "He's at home with my husband...".

The conversation ended without further incident. SUCCESS! I had managed to avoid THAT conversation... the one where I had to say my son died.

It was the first time I had been faced with that question, AND OH THE GUILT that set in from what I had said just to avoid the truth. It was horrible. Beyond horrible. There I was feeling that way just for trying to keep someone else, a complete stranger, from feeling bad for asking me a simple question... Why was I doing this to myself?

Feeling comfortable and confident in my own skin again became a new focus for me, and one critical to my healing.

Overtime, I realized more and more that, despite how much I wish it didn't have to be, my son's passing was always going to be a part of me, my story, and my life -- and I had to accept it in order to accept me. Of course I would always feel sorrow in connection with his passing, but even greater, and even stronger than that, was the absolute joy that I felt for his life and for the time that I got to share with him when he was here. It was in learning to fully accept my son's passing and accepting myself as a bereaved parent, that I was able to learn to handle and deal with those questions confidently and with grace.

It is easy for parents who have lost a child to feel emotionally isolated from others who haven't gone through what we have. It isn't always easy to bridge that divide, but sometimes you've just got to wake up, look yourself in the mirror and say "Other people have gone through what I've gone through. Yes, my child's passing has changed me. Yes, it hurts like hell, and at times it still feels like a fresh wound, but I'm not going to feel defeated any longer. I am going to be strong for myself, and strong for my child. I am going to take all that I've learned from this, and I'm going to RUN WITH IT. I'm going to keep growing and flourishing and reminding myself each and every day that I am loved, that I am blessed, and that I am not alone."

And that, my friends, is when I decided to begin my journey to find happiness again.

- and although it wasn't bright, sunny days for a long time... I did begin to see fleeting moments of beauty again against my gray, clouded sky...

Progress.

City Mom: A Lovely Winter Wedding

Quinn, Jason and I attended my twin brother's wedding this weekend, and seriously, saying it was a beautiful and touching and proud moment for me would all be a complete understatement. It was HUGE in my heart, and a day packed with so many wonderful moments that it will definitely stick with me forever. I couldn't feel any more grateful to have been there to witness it all.

A photo of the lovely bride and groom :)

But, I wanted to add something here. On the way to the wedding, my husband and I decided to turn on the radio in the car. THIS LIKE, NEVER HAPPENS. We are iPhone junkies and our itunes playlist could probably play for 6 years without a single song repeating, I'M NOT KIDDING. BUT, for whatever unheard of reason, we had the radio on at this time.

And wouldn't you know... as soon as the song which was playing finished, in starts a song very near and dear to my heart. The ONE song I would play and dance with my little Ethan to. A song I had not heard in quite a while due to my lack-of-radio-listening. OUR song. Bubbly.

And in that moment, Jason and I both stopped talking. We just looked at each other and instantly all the stress of planning for the day was lifted from our shoulders. It was as if Ethan had hopped down from Heaven just long enough to give our hearts a great big squeeeeeeeeze!

I love him so much.

What a GREAT day :)

A Pic from City Mom

I'm so very grateful for this little guy <3 It feels so awesome to be able to share my day with him. I cherish every moment.

City Mom + Photos of Quinn!

I hate being the kind of parent who has more iPhone photos of her children than real ones, but I enjoy the ease of snapping a few photos of my little guy throughout the day. He totally melts my heart. Here he is today showing pride of ownership in his new found ability: deconstructing his playmat into a bajillion and sixty-five thousand pieces (at least he hasn't tried eating said pieces yet... FINGERS CROSSED).

I too cannot wait for warmer spring days. This kid loves the swing too much to keep him cooped up much longer.

On a side note, my husband and I have been house hunting lately and have yet to decide upon where we'd like to go next... what a HUGE and scary and exciting decision to make! AHHH! But, one thing is for certain, I'm ready for a new adventure.

Dear Life,

BRING IT.

Yours Truly,
City Mom

City Mom..

Hello, internet! My name is Wendi and I am an absolute city girl at heart. I thrive off of the simple and smallest things in life; local book stores, warm hugs, city park benches for sitting, green grass for picnics, reading, snuggling, babies!, iced caramel macchiatos, DIY projects, crafty things, and mid-century furniture collecting... I could go on and on... but, even more important than all of those things put together, the very core of my being, is my family. My husband and I met in high school. After 7 beautiful years together, and on a warm summer day, we gave birth to a beautiful little boy named Ethan. Words could never express how seeing that little guy for the first time made us feel - instantly our world was a little brighter, our purpose a little clearer, and our hearts...how they began to overflow with such a love that we had never felt before. Although we did not know it at the time, our little Ethan would only be with us for a short while. At exactly 3 months and 15 days old, he passed away in his sleep, suddenly and unexpectedly. To us and his doctors, he was a normal, happy and healthy baby; but in what felt like a mere blink of an eye, he was gone from us. Losing him was beyond devastating and the grief that followed was something that life could have never prepared us for. We also went on to try again, and two and a half years later, we gave birth to baby boy #2 -- Quinn! At now 8 months old, he is definitely keeping us busy in the most wonderful of ways. As Carrie mentioned, having Quinn in our arms certainly has helped to fill some of the emptiness in our arms from losing Ethan, but truth be told, you can never replace a child that has been lost. Having others who understand what you are going through, all while providing a positive influence, is so very important. Carrie has been that person for me, and I don't know what I would do without her. --- Well, that is me in a nutshell - just a simple twenty-something girl, meeting life's challenges one by one, all while trying her darnedest to come out on the other end a better, wiser person.