The chairs of my kitchen...

It has been a long week.  As soon as anyone starts to sniffle or cough, my mind goes to worse case scenario.  A trip to our family doctor with the sickest of the bunch put my heart at ease a bit.  Today I played a lot of catch up and I'm happy to report while my house is a wreck, I just caught up on all of the work for my business and I'm ready to tackle a few appointments this weekend.

So in the midst of tripping over dirty dishes and laundry, I decided to tackle a new kitchen challenge.  Homemade granola bars. Even bigger challenge? Drafting the girls to work together to make it happen!

So the 3 of them measured, melted, combine, poured, and pressed with minimal bickering.  I ignored the "why do WE have to do this?" from one kid and another being a bit bossy. For the most part, they were working together and hopefully learning something along the way.  I stood back and watched and couldn't help but feel CJ's absence so desperately that I needed to walk away to wipe a few tears.  He should have been having chocolate chips snuck to him by his sisters while he played at their feet.  They should have been asking me to grab him because he was underfoot. 

What those sweet girls don't really realize is they were contributing to a decision we made for them many years ago.  From the first disgusting jar of baby food I offered to our oldest, I was determined to do better.  We couldn't afford fancy baby food making systems, so I simply cooked for my toddlers and froze portion in ice cube trays to be stacked in baggies in the freezer for when there wasn't something on the table they would enjoy.  When they started school, I was equally disgusted with the school lunches. Our oldest had a fresh lunch packed for her almost every day until she graduated highschool.  And now that she is commuting for a semester, we have added her lunch to the stack we prepare again. 

It's those simple moments that I am so proud of the effort we have put into raising our kids.  It's also when CJ's absence simply kills me.  I constantly think about how if we were old school with his sisters, he was destined to be raised old OLD school.  This would be to the dismay of so many well meaning people who live to constantly remind us how things have changed in parenting. 

CJ would sit at the table with everyone for daily home cooked meals. When older, his lunchbox would have fresh fruit,  homemade granola bars, and preservative free sandwiches on fresh rye bread just like his sisters.  My boy would have been raised on a crazy mix of Polish/Mexican cuisine that we all enjoy. 

You see, my kitchen in the center of our home. It's were there is always plenty for unexpected guests.  Dinner menus are text out to guarantee the kids chill at home with me for a bit on a Friday night.  He would learn that at home the kitchen is a place to explore (like making our own granola bars), spend time together, keep traditions and create new ones,  comfort and nurture, and even work out our differences typically happen around the kitchen table.  Our table that has 6 chairs.  A constant reminder of our missing child.

Tomorrow there will be a crazy big pot of pezole simmering for dinner.  Big bowls of hot food will be ladeled out, kids laughter will fill the house, and I'll sit back and soak it all in.  One sweet missing giggle will hurt and probably bring a few tears.  CJ's one year anniversary didn't lessen my pain.  Instead it only reminds me of milestones he's not here to enjoy with us. I should be spooning my sweet 1 year old homemade soup tomorrow, not visiting his grave. 

For now I have slip the dishes left over to deal with for tonight's granola bar endeavor.  I spent an hour individually wrapping each one just right.  Next is tomorrow's lunches and prep for tomorrow's dinner.

Make dinner as a family.  Be thankful for the souls around your table and mindful of the missing.  But above all,  go old school.  Turn off the electronics, make eye contact, and embrace those sweet moments.  #doitforcj

Get out of the damn house!!!

I have my days.  Those days when it's all just too much.  I cry and feel sorry for myself.  I've admitted to losing it in the cemetery and found myself on the ground next to my son singing to him through my tears.  Everyone knows about my sunglasses always propped on my head just in case. 

But one rule I follow is my 24 hour rule.  I must shower and leave the house once every 24 hours. 

This may seem like overkill, but I understand my limits have changed.  If I didn't put in this effort,  I could very easily turn into the crying lump on the couch. 

At first this wasn't easy.  My husband shared something with me weeks later that showed me how well he knows me.  When my doctor agreed to a c-section when I asked,  he gently nudged me towards laboring.   I will never regret going through the process and getting to push CJ'S beautiful body out of mine.  But what I didn't realize at the time was that Nate knew I would need to get out of the house.   Surgery would clip my wings for far longer than I have ever stood still.  That sweet man knew my survival depended on my independence.

Some days I just drive through for coffee or visit CJ. But more often now I'm enjoying my bit of time out of the house.  I still envy every stroller I see and need my emergency shades more than I care to admit.  With every outing I feel stronger to deal with difficult situations.  Nate and our kids are fantastic buffers when my anxiety gets the best of me.

Today my big adventure was driving Nate to work and stopping for dog food. Exciting, I know.   But hang on,  it does get amusing...

Walmart was my big destination. 99 cent DD iced coffee,  grabbed the cattlechow,  and I was ready for some serious isle cruising.  And of course,  my phone rings with a call I need to take.  

I wandered out to the garden center hoping for some privacy.  Bingo! It was empty.   I chatted at first as I pushed my cart in circles.  As the conversation lingered on,  I put my iced coffee down on a sample patio set to adjust the volume on my phone.  Then without thinking I sat down to continue my call.  20 minutes later my feet were up on another chair, tears were streaming down my face,  and I had left a big old water ring from my drink on the table.  As I hung up, I realized I had made myself at home and had to laugh.   As I was getting myself together to go back into the store a woman came around the corner pushing a cart. I smiled and went to walk by her.  She mumbled under her breathe "were you waiting for a refill? ".  She was obviously annoyed.

For once I was struck speachless.  As I went back to isle cruising,  it hit me.   I had gotten my refill. That call was a chance to talk about CJ.  The voice on the other end of the phone was asking me sincere questions about my son and my journey.   My soul was refilled.

Having a crappy day? Get out of the house.  Don't forget your shades.
#doitforcj

Speaking up. .

What a crazy week!  Since CJ was born, there was one major goal that I hoped to achieve one day.  I wanted to help our hospital do better.

I'm not speaking medically.  And for the sake of my own privacy,  I won't go into the medical issues that surrounded our outcome.   But spiritually.

Gasp! Spiritually?  In a place of business?  Because let's face it,  hospitals exist to turn a profit.   But when the tag line they use is "sharing the healing ministries of Christ", they could have done better.

My journey began with the coordinator of a program for infant and pregnancy loss support group through the region.  She and I had several long, tearful conversations.   I have yet to utilize the support group through the hospital to it's full potential because of the burdens I was holding in my heart.

Then an invitation was made.   I was asked to speak in front of a few department heads.  Nervously I accepted.  For the sake of my own healing.   Our simple scheduled meeting turned into 20 clergy/managers/nurses/ support staff crowding into a small conference room to hear my sweet baby boy's story. Tissues were passed, hugs were shared, as I honestly cried my way through the hardest story of my life.

The meeting was recorded,  and with my permission is becoming part of a mandatory curriculum were any hospital employee who deals with grieving families must view.  So many changes have already been implemented because of my sweet little boy.  Instead of changes, I should really say additions.  Additional services and support will be offered for every family facing this nightmare. Hopefully families can walk away with beautiful memories made with their baby.  Every baby.

All because of one little boy.

The fire this has sparked inside of me brings such joy. Even through the tears every moment I get to speak about him is my tangeable proof that he exists.  To see tears of love and support running down the cheeks of so many showed me what I have known all along.   Christian's imprint on this world will be everlasting.

So that's where I've been,  plus recovering from a frantic er trip with kidney stones. As always, your continued prayers are appreciated and needed.  Physical pain seems to aggravate the emotional.

Love, jen

set in stone...

Set in stone...

I have a completely different understanding of that phrase tonight.

So here is how this a very odd series of events played out this morning... Nate left to lok at some side work.  Completely annoyed that I really wanted some company with me while I ran a few errands, I went to the cemetery first thinking maybe his stone would be there and I could selfishly have a few moments to absorb the reality.  No stone, but a quick visit left me feeling alone and really wanting some time with my hubby.

So I called him..

And text him...

and got more and more annoyed that he was not responding.  I even began to stew a bit.  Then a text came across that got my attention- he was trying to call but my phone kept hanging up on him.  A few cryptic text msgs later and we managed to meet up in a parking lot. This has been an ongoing issue with my sometimes working phone, so we left his van parked and went over to TMobile.  An hour later, I had a new phone and we were off to finish my to-do list together.

Then a message popped up on my new phone from our girls that they were going to visit CJ.  So we headed that way thinking we could talk to them about grabbing a quick bite.  And of course, we missed them.  Typical to how our day had been playing out!  I decided to go say a quick hello again anyway.  Lingering a bit (not really sure why) I suggested we walk to the other side of the cemetery and visit a cousin's grave.  As we wandered over, a truck from a monument company pulled in.  From far away, I knew the second I saw the base of his stone on the truck with another monument what was unfolding.  I immediately started to cry as I walked to the truck.  In disbelief we saw the parts to his stone.  The kind man told us he had another to set up first, then would drive to the back to do CJ's.  I went back to the van to grab my new phone to call the girls.  20 min later we were all together sitting on a blanket under the trees and quietly watched as CJ's stone was assembled.  We thanked him and he kindly expressed his condolences.  When he drove off, we all just sat there quietly for a few moments.  It was as if the moment was too surreal to wrap our minds around what was in front of us.  It was my son's legacy set in stone. 

We couldn't have planned it better if we wanted to.  We were all together.  The unplanned nature didn't give anyone a chance to get too worked up.  The sun's position behind the black stone was making it near to impossible to get clear pictures with our cell phones. This was causing giggles and acrobatics while we tried every angle we could com up with.  And of course, the photographer of the family had a new phone that I didn't know how to use! 

I wondered how today would feel.  It was sad.  There were tears.  But there as also great peace is seeing that permanent monument.  My son existed on this earth.  His life was finally marked for all to see.  Not in the temporary (yet loving) way we have held vigil over for almost a year.  It was a moment of pure love having us all together. ALLLL of us.  And CJ had to be cracking up watching us decide which decorations to leave and his sisters taking selfies in his reflection.

I have spent so much time and energy on this moment.  It is almost stressful to wonder where to direct all of that energy tomorrow.  I pray it can be channeled into healing. Just a few more weeks until his 1 year angelersary.  1 year... that's is really hard to believe.

#doitforcj

A simple refection in my laptop is all I have to share tonight...