Tag Archives: loss

Beloved “Klo Klo”

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kloeSummer 2010 a tiny little Morkie (Yorkie + Maltese) with cute, pointy little ears, entered our family. At the time, we were living with my grandparents. It was the same summer I was bedridden in my pregnancy with Eisley. My grandma named her Kloe and soon she was being called “Klo Klo” by 12-month-old Chaseyboy. She quickly became his best buddy, in fact during our 2 year stay in Fort Collins, she was his only friend. In fall 2010 my grandparents bought an even smaller Morkie named Ginger or “Gin Gin” according to Chase. The two pups brought so much joy and excitement to our lives, especially Chase’s! When we moved from my grandparents’s home into our own March of 2011, Chase was pretty dissapointed. He would wander the house calling out for “Klo Klo”, we even got him a stuffed animal puppy which he slept with for a while. We visited them often and each time since, Kloe and Chase run around the house, playing and wearing each other out.

KloeCollage_2Above: Chase’s first time meeting her and a two of him playing outside with her that fall 2010.KloeCollage_3KloeCollage_1April 16th we received a surprising call from my Grandma, telling us that Kloe had died. I have never in my life felt so emotional about an animal until that moment. Perhaps it was hearing my grandma cry as she shared or  my grandpa crying in the background or knowing that I had to tell Chaseyboy. It was all so quick too; Kloe had puppies just 3 weeks before. She had collapsed and by the time they took her in, they told my grandparents it was too late. She died of calcium deficiency and often there are no signs for it until it’s too late. They were devestated. Kloe and Ginger go everywhere with my grandparents… and I mean everywhere. Kloe was especially fond of my Grandparents; she was always the first into the car when she knew my Grandma was leaving or she would follow my Grandpa Willard around as though she was his shadow. At ball games, Kloe and Ginger would hop up into my Grandpa’s lap and fall asleep in his arms. Needless to say, she is dearly missed.

20130501-195751.jpg(Above: Chase and one of Kloe’s puppies)

Telling Chase was painful. I knew I needed to tell him because we were heading up to Fort Collins for a family garage sale we do, just one week after she passed away. I shared with him how Kloe had gotten sick and she passed away and went to be with Jesus (I don’t know if that is “correct” or right, but I sure hope she is!) His eyes actually filled with tears and he wiped them away embarrassed. I said, “It’s okay to cry, buddy…” and he responded with, “I’m not crying… water is falling out of my eyes!” I explained that it was tears and it was okay and natural to cry because he felt sad. We’ve had  A LOT of conversations about Kloe and her passing since. He brings it up often and most of the time ends with “Can we just not talk about this anymore?” Which is difficult and sad. I know it is his first real loss he has felt and I know his age also makes this difficult as well. He recently said to me, “Eisley and Klo Klo are with Jesus?” “Yes.” “But I don’t want her to be with Jesus!”  I didn’t really know what to say, but went with what I felt and said, “I don’t either, buddy.”

OH MY HEART…

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(Above: Klo Klo’s puppies)

After she passed away, my grandparents scrambled trying to figure out how to save her pups. Thankfully Kloe had given them a good start. My grandparents described that first week of teaching them to bottle feed as though they had 4 infants waking them 2-3 times a night for feedings and waking early again for more. Thankfully they were able to bottle feed and save Kloe’s puppies.

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20130502-123117.jpg20130501-205226.jpg20130501-195833.jpg20130501-195751.jpg20130501-195715.jpgJust a little post to document a bit of our journey with Kloe and how she impacted our lives. We sure miss Klo Klo and are so very thankful for the time we had with her. Thankful for her little “friendship” with Chaseyboy and how she helped teach him to be kind and sweet to animals :)

And of course, we are so thankful for her little pups.(This little guy pictured above was my favourite and I was thrilled to hear a friend of ours had bought him! What a perfect fit! I would have kept this little guy if it weren’t for our landlord not allowing pets – barely allowed our fish! And the fact that we’ve got a pretty big move happening in our near future – how’s that for vague and secret ;) More “soon”… )20130515-132101.jpg

My grandma sent me this photo and shared that they are keeping this little guy. A little piece of Kloe. New adventures with Samson and two little boys await :)

for her. for them. for me.

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This summer I began running – or really, jogging (I’m still so slow.) It was very therapeutic for me this summer as it was one of the most difficult summers in my life. I have written a bit about it here on the blog before. I was so proud to make it out of this summer and into fall. And now, into 2013 feeling much better and ready to face a new year. Eisley’s passing date and birthday this year was one I didn’t share on my blog. I guess I didn’t really know how to best convey my heart because honestly, I didn’t even know what was happening within me. I was a complete wreck this year, 2 years later. I can’t explain it and I guess if you’ve ever lost anyone, you’d understand that – there really sometimes isn’t a way to explain your grief.

To top it off I had thrown up walls with every person in my life (Ted too). I had two friends (nearby) that really continued to pursue me despite my walls and pushing away – my “funk” - or whatever you’d call it. They are the ones I asked to join me in a 5k I did, not because I didn’t still love my other friends or anything! But because it was, at the time, what I felt was best for me.377847_10151065744211989_890910759_nA verse of truth that I still cling to, especially in troubled times where truth is hard to remember. (a piece of a letter I wrote to E in the hospital)
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This year, we had a simple picnic lunch on her birthday and did a balloon release. each year we write notes on pink balloons and release them. 267197_10151068118951989_1913800824_n  Chase was way more involved and understanding this year and that made our hearts both full and ache simultaneously. 380053_10151072238656989_1697785671_n

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our family photo on Eisley’s birthday September 17, 2012

EisleysbirthdayfamilyphotoCollage2011 // 2012
426795_10151068722831989_1162516962_nwe went out to a local ice cream shop, Scrumptious, for Eisley’s birthday after the balloon release.
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I knew I wanted to run a 5k around Eisley’s birthday and last minute, I found one. The {PERFECT} one. Colour Me Rad. How incredibly fitting. The final stretch was PINK powder too which just made my heart so very happy and thankful, like it was truly a run in honour of her.

This run was so much more to me than words can describe. The physical victory was amazing – 3.2 miles (mostly ran, I was sick with a cough and strep throat – which at the time I didn’t know that!) – but more than anything, the significance of this run meant more than anything. I felt like it was a declaration – one in honour of Eisley and also as a declaration that I WILL keep going. That I can. That despite everything I am FEELING, I can do this. I can live.

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for her.
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for them.
620886_10152252958760727_15126740_o for me.

a {different} beautiful dream.

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It’s a moment I will never forget, probably because it was one that would either scar a person for life, or move them to tears. It was the very first time I witnessed a birth, at the young age of 13. I was watching the kiddos of my mom’s friend while she labored away in their home. My mom was there and as the time of their daughter’s birth neared, they asked me if I would like to be in the room. I decided I did and I have never regretted that decision since. It was beautiful and I knew at the moment, that was what I hoped for some day. I always knew I wanted a family (being the eldest, I always did), but now I knew how I wanted to birth my children. In the peace of our home.

Years later, I was 24 weeks pregnant, I had a wonderful midwife and a beautiful birth story all planned out.  But they were telling me that I was Group B Strep positive and I was told that I wouldn’t be able to have the home birth I had always dreamt of (I later learned, you actually can be GBS + and still have a home birth, but thankfully He knew what we needed at the time). I was crushed. I mean, devesated. I balled and balled. Ted, who was never fully at peace with the idea of a home birth, finally felt peace and knew this was the best decision for us. Then, at almost 42 weeks they told me the likelihood of me having to have a c-section was great. Many factors that weren’t adding up. I felt like the biggest failure, frustrated with my body for being unable to have my baby naturally.

I won’t go into detail Chase’s birth story, if you’re really curious – just click here as I have written his birth story online once before. To sum it up, 42 hours of labor, 3.5 hours of pushing, making it all the way to 10cm only to have him get stuck and unable to fit and come out. I had him by c-section, totally exhausted and drugged up and unable to remember anything or hold him until a day later.

My perspective has greatly changed since we’ve lost Eisley. I have since realized, through our own life experience, that any birth story that is able to bring the baby to your arms, alive, is the really best birth story there is.

Words can’t express how incredibly thankful I am that I was able to have Eisley naturally (vaginally) 73 hours of labor later I met our sweet girl face to face. It wasn’t what I had dreamt when I thought of having a baby but I am so very thankful that I was able to hold my daughter, to see her precious face before we said goodbye, and because of that, I wouldn’t trade any of those 73 hours in for anything. (we just recently had the 2nd anniversaries or her death -september 14th and her birthday – september 17th. Blog post about those precious anniversaries, soon.)

I decided to schedule a c-section with Shailo. There was really no question in my mind. I knew I couldn’t go through another long labor that would potentially result in a c-section, again. And also, I felt a natural birth was too traumatic from going through what we had with Eisley just shy of 14 months before. So, in regards to a c-section, even though it was a dream lost – I was able to have two beautiful boys due to them. So very thankful we live in a day and age that it is possible.

I kind of digress, but I wanted to share a bit of my heart behind what I’m about what I am really blogging about. When I was pregnant with Chase, Eisley and Shailo I enjoyed looking through photographs of birth stories – home births, c-section births, hospital births… I was constantly moved to tears by them. In my pregnancy with Shailo I really felt that God gave me an incredible dream. I wanted to be a birth photographer. I wanted to capture “that moment” for another. You know, that one moment when the mother first meets their baby face to face. The moment when they birth their baby and he/she is placed on their chest. The incredible emotion, the overwhelming love… that moment. That specific moment was one that I was unable to have but I wanted to capture that for someone else.

And, the story beforehand and those precious moments afterwards. But especially the moment the momma (and daddy) first sees their little one.

The question, “How could you photograph…”that moment”… something you’ve never experienced yourself?” started to plague my mind. And while that makes total sense in a way, I had to battle that. I honestly think there will always be this yearning in my heart. Wondering what “that” moment would be like. And even without the experience of a home birth or a completely natural, un-medicated birth, I feel that yearning so strong that I am able to truly capture the moments I would believe to be beautiful – as if it were my birth story. What would I want captured?

Another thing that began to draw out insecurity from within me was knowing that I wasn’t a professional photographer, so how could I just jump right in. My wonderful hubby jumped on board with my dream and wanted to help me in any way possible. So he has been teaching me. :) I have a lot to learn but I can already see a change in the work that I do. And also, I don’t want to be a professional photographer, maybe not ever, right now I just know I want to understand the camera and how to best captures those moments for someone else.

So how do I begin?

I knew that I wanted to start with friends, but even with close friends… how do you ask something like that? “Hi, I’d like to photograph your birth story, what do ya think?” The first thought of many is most likely – “I don’t want …down there… photographed!” haha. Thankfully, I was spared that awkward conversation and just 3 weeks after I shared this dream with Ted (October 2011), a friend of mine called me. She asked if I would consider photographing the birth of their son, Seth. I literally got goosebumps and tears filled my eyes. I was honoured to shoot my first birth in April.

During the birth of my friend Brittany’s son, I was asked to shoot my second birth by another dear friend, Bethany. She was Brittany’s doula and a long time friend and inspiration of mine. The amazing thing is that when I had shared with Ted about my dream, I had told Ted that I wanted to ask Bethany when they got pregnant with their next baby. And not too long later, they shared they were pregnant with baby #7! On September 15th, just a few weeks ago, I shot my second birth – the beautiful birth of their 4th daughter; Lilyana Elaine.

I hope to share both birth stories here soon. Today I will be posting the birth story of Seth Tyrus Maxwell (with permission.)

I am hoping for more wonderful opportunities like the two I’ve had this year. So very thankful for this dream I believe He’s given me and can’t wait to see how He will use this and bless others with it! Possible overseas someday? We shall see!

I just wanted to share a little bit about the story behind this dream that I believe God’s birthed in me (pun intended ;)) Thanks for stopping by!

simultaneously.

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i have realized something in the past few months and as it slowly but surely resonates with my heart and mind, i am finding freedom.

i am beginning to come to understand my simultaneously grieving yet, thankful heart. that it is really okay that they both exist. and that (for me) there cannot be guilt in this. i can’t really say i fully understand or comprehend this idea, but in my heart it resonates. it happens each and every day.

today is actually a good example of this very thing;

august 8th holds a fun new milestone as well as a precious memoury that we hold dear to our hearts.

today, Shailo is 9 months old, which is unbelievable to me! (photo taken today at his 9 month checkup)

it is also the anniversary of when we found out that our Eisley was a girl at our Pink or Blue party.

i’m reminded in dates and anniversaries, like today. and i’m reminded in the little every day moments. recently, i stood watching a moment happen at the Zoo and instantaneously felt full of both thankfulness and sorrow. thankful for what my eyes beheld before me in that second; my precious boys. sorrow in knowing their sister would never be apart of even the smallest moments like these.

both of these feelings, sometimes existing at the same time or sometimes one right after the other, it’s something that has burdened me and overwhelmed me with guilt until recently. but they no longer need to and it is this very idea that i have to let go. i have to quit trying to wrap my mind around it and just go with these feelings.

they are happening.

they are very real.

they are often and in my everyday.

i imagine that each and every one of us has come to know that life is oh so beautiful and oh so painful.

it is both bitter and sweet.

and while we will never truly understand how the two can really coincide, how they can often go hand in hand, i know that His grace, His mercy, His peace… they carry us through these moments.

i’m super sleepy and i really hope  that despite my inability to think straight, i was able to share what i really wanted to tonight. i guess i just wanted to share (publicly) with the hope that maybe in this blog post, in my sharing this vulnerable bit of my mind, maybe it could help someone.

i don’t have answers for why things happen. why often there is the bitter with the sweet. but i know that He carries us.

maybe we ought to let go of trying to comprehend all of this and feel what we need to feel.

maybe in this, we will find healing.

maybe if we let go, we will find a greater understanding of what it means to really live life – because we come to feel these very things.

yeah, that makes sense in my head, hope what i am trying to get out resonates in someone reading this now.

xoxo, jami

on the mend. whatever that looks like, that is.

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i struggle with what i believe most momma’s struggle with and that is, doing things for ourselves. myself. me. i remember before i had Chase i wanted to be sure that i really focused on yes, being a momma, but also still being who i am too. what makes me, me. doing the things i love all while being his mother.

over the years – and through everything we’ve walked through in his “short” (almost) 3 years – i’ve really began to push that aside. it has {really} hit me recently though. it’s taking it’s toll on me. it’s another reason i decided to keep blogging. i’m a verbal processor, just in case you haven’t figured that out yet ;) and i need the time to process. like really process everything. and i do mean EVERY thing. i’m just wired that way. i often wish i wasn’t.

we recently moved  back to a city where we lived just 2 years ago. {So much} has happened and changed within our family and within us since we’ve moved. i kind of expected a lot out of this move and instead i found that my high expectations were crumbling as i watched the reality kind of set in. and oh so quickly. we are so different than we were when we lived down here. our lives were too. we’re in a completely and totally different place in almost every way than before. i didn’t expect to feel what i feel now.

when we left (YWAM) we still felt young, carefree and adventurous. we left feeling hopeful for a new season and where we felt God was leading us. it was a hard and difficult step to take leaving the (structured) ministry of YWAM and jumping into the (not so structured) ministry of being out here and pursuing our dreams, away from what we had known since graduating High School. we stepped out, rather naive to what we’d be facing. the reality hit us full force. ( i feel like it {still is}). we found out soon after leaving YWAM that we were pregnant with Eisley…

it’s hard to say that “everything went downhill from there” because even though that is true, we wouldn’t trade one minute of {any} of it. we had our beautiful baby girl and for that we could never be more thankful and never regret a moment. yet the reality is, everything did go “downhill” from there. after we lost her, i’ll never forget, around a month after losing her – we were living with my grandparents, broke as could be. we sifted through our things in storage and sold the items that we were using that could bring us in a little money to help with groceries and to pay for diapers. all while grieving and feeling confused (and at the time, still an incredible amount of shock). i remember sitting outside in the sunshine of autumn (thanks, Colorado for being so sunny year-round) and pulling Chase into my arms and just crying my heart out. it felt like it couldn’t possibly get any worse, but to be honest, it hasn’t felt much better (besides the awesome addition to our family! he blesses our hearts so very much!)

i really thought, 2 years from the time we left YWAM, that we’d be in a different place (in so many ways) than where we are now. like i said, we don’t regret anything, but it’s freaking hard out here. and then add to the mix… just everything… we sometimes joke (but are kind of looking at each other like, are you serious, yeah..confused haha) that we need to go back on staff so we can live off with support again. it’s not a bad thing, (please, please, please don’t assume that’s what i’m saying here) we just remember what life was like before and sometimes miss it.

i turned 25 in march. (i have completely avoided my 25 by 25 list, because it’s really too painful, more reminders) i hit my first official identity crisis. no, i am not exaggeratting. i thought many a times wondering, “who am i anymore?!” should i be admitting this to the “world”, maybe not, but i guess my way of thinking is that if you stop in to read my blog, you might care just a tiny bit about us/me.

i was sharing with a dear friend of mine – who has walked beside me literally every step of the way since 2005- about all of this (much more drama and tears while sharing face-to-face ;)). she encouraged me and had a thought and perspective that hadn’t had. during our time away, even though just 2 years, it seems like so much longer and now as we come back, it makes sense why there is this struggle within us. we have changed so much (which i know) while some of the surroundings and even people, have stayed the same. but also, more than that, during our time away, it was a constant fight for our daughter’s life, and our life and survival. now we are here and God has seriously provided us with a beautiful (temporary) home (sunshine galore here, thank you, Jesus!) Ted has a new job that is more uplifting (for the most part and obviously not his dream job) and now we are busy with things in life that are productive for us and our dreams, rather than just busy with survival mode.

and now that we are here, in this place where burdens that once were, seem a little lighter. it hits us. the reality of what we’ve gone through. the shock far gone, and the survival mode no longer on full speed. it hits us. and it’s hard and dark and icky and sucky and frankly, the overwhelming thoughts are hell. hell. hell. how do you even process certain things? … how?!

i know that, really, there is just so much to process and so little time to sit down and actually do that. it’s a matter of being intentional and setting aside time to do so. also, just learning to do this as we keep up with the busyness of life. we’ve realized lately the importance of taking care of ourselves, saying no to this or that so we can actually maybe even process some things. and sometimes maybe it’s just the opposite that we need, saying yes to this or that to get ourselves out of this funk. we’re trying to take this all step-by-step, little by little. in hopes to find a way and time for our hearts to begin mending.

here i am – yet again – admitting i’m (we’re) struggling, broken and confused but this time seeking peace for our family. peace for our broken hearts. peace all the way around. peace amidst this chaotic life.

thanks for listening. :)

I will lift up my eyes to the hills—
From whence comes my help?
My help comes from the Lord,
Who made heaven and earth.

{Psalms 121}

an all-over-the-place post about nights and Chaseyboy

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(this post has been in the works for a month now so even as i re-read some of this i can see how much God has really been working in my heart and mind – so very thankful that my eyes have been opened or whatever you want to call it…read on if you dare ;)… no but seriously, do because i want to hear from those who may have walked this road before us)

Chase is almost 3-years-old. 33 months to be exact. and there is something i have rarely (if ever, really) shared. definitely not on the blog – maybe you caught a glimpse of it in my post about the “ba-bas”  and even when sharing with close friends and family, i haven’t shared what nights with Chase are really like.

i don’t think i ever made the conscious decision to not be honest, i mean people who are around enough, know that Chase has “rough nights”. but within the last month as i’ve gained more perspective i’ve started to share honestly about what it’s really like. mostly to process it and try to understand it.

the perspective that i’m talking about – about our (my- not Ted’s but not his fault as he is seriously the deepest sleeper i know) nights with Chase –  is that what we are going through is {not} normal. it’s like my eyes have been opened to what’s really going on and maybe, if i’m being totally honest, i’m facing the reality of something i haven’t wanted to for far too long.  the reality. the truth.

sometimes, it’s feels easier to go through the motion of things than to really deal with the root cause, the deeper issues. or maybe it’s just that i don’t even know where to begin, or i’m afraid of what i’ll really learn if i allow myself to face everything honestly.

yeah, obviously i’m still sorting through all of my thoughts. i’m overwhelmed by them. and, i’m afraid to share. but i {need} to share. i {need} to hear from others who are/have walked this road before. because i am baffled. because it’s recently started to take it’s toll on me.

there isn’t really a “gist” i’m getting at. it’s actually bunch of things jumbled into one big mess. and we go through this every.single.night.

i am slightly afraid that people might say, “well you’ve brought this on yourself”. and maybe that’s partly true. i love co-sleeping. i read this or that for and against it before i had Chase and decided i’d just do what i felt was right for us in the moment. after we had him, i pulled him into bed around 2 months and until a month before Shailo was born, he was still in our bed.

now he is in his own toddler bed, beside our bed (really don’t want to get into the full answer of why he’s next to our bed…basically,  it’s a fear-based thing within me that i’m working through. and also, because of our nights with him.) so, yes, he’s in his own bed. and Shailo sleeps in his little bed beside ours and I pull him into bed around 5am every morning (i would co-sleep with him, like i did Chase but after losing Eisley, it’s again, another one of my fear-based things. freaks me out now.)

the truth about our nights is that they are sleepless, long and exhausting. i am going to share honestly with the hope that {someone} can say they’ve walked through this too and can help me. here goes.

Chase doesn’t sleep for more than an hour and a half at a time. he wakes me up either every hour or hour and a half. (edit (because this has been a draft for a few weeks now): Chase slept one night for a period of 4/5 hours and i slept so deeply that when i woke i felt i had overslept and could barely get out of bed. cra-zy awesome and also, more perspective that this isn’t normal.)

he wakes me and asks me to do things like to straighten his pillow case. to fix his blanket because it’s no longer the way he likes it to lay. he wakes me if his jammies are on weird, or the ankles slid up to high but he can’t {not} wear jammies because if he doesn’t, he itches his skin until he bleeds (eczema) so in a way, some things seem kind of hopeless although i know they probably aren’t.

he’s totally inconsolable if he asks for milk and doesn’t get it. part of that is because he’s half awake and mostly because it’s a {major} comfort thing. i tried water for a time and that worked a whopping two times. he was doing much better in this area but again it’s gotten worse. we go through a gallon a day – maybe a day and a half if we’re lucky.

(-kind of TMI- side note: because he drink so.much.milk i have totally put off potty training all together. in my brain, the way this has to work it to get him to stop drinking so much fluids daily first. then begin the training. he pees SO much as you can imagine a child his age would, going through a gallon of milk all by himself in one day. he also poops like a baby still. mushy poos, rarely solid. (how’s that for TMI) so our nights our putting a damper on even things like potty training and saving money in diapers and milk…)

i was lying awake one night, around 3 am and trying to wrap my mind around our nights and i felt so clearly God reminded me of the first night i had to leave Chase to be hospitalized for Eisley. i suddenly realized that this could be a huge factor in why he freaks out at night. why he is unconsolable and needs the comfort of milk.

he was (is) traumatized too.

my heart aches every day lately as i’ve really let that sink in. i’ve known for a {long} time now this is an area i need to face. since we lost Eisley, i’ve struggled with anger towards Chase for things that aren’t his fault. things that are totally out of his control and to be honest, my hearts knows a major part of why he struggles with sleep is because he’s traumatized. by what happened while i was on bed rest and suddenly unable to to the “normal” things with him anymore. traumatized because his mother – whom always slept with her arm wrapped tightly around him – suddenly left him (when i hospitalized for Eisley – which once i had her, was 1 month. 1 month away from Chase)

traumatized because the woman who was now back wasn’t the momma he knew -watching me come back home – a changed, confused, grief-consumed and broken momma, not the momma he’d known his whole life (he was just 14 months at the time). i sometimes feel like she’s gone. the carefree-light hearted-cheery-rarely angry-momma.

i felt so consumed by the loss of Eisley that i stopped taking care of him in the loving, natural way i had before. i felt angry at him at times because i wanted to just be left alone in my grief, and friends, i feel like i’ve traumatized my son. i know i have.

i love him so very deeply and my heart has been changed by the love i have for him. from the very first time i learned he was growing inside my womb. from the very first time i heard his heartbeat, felt his movements within and saw his little profile during an ultrasound. and from the moment i held him in my arms, it’s like i now stand watching my heart run around in him. in my memory of eisley. in shailo.

it’s this deep, unbelievable and inexplicable love.

and my eyes have been opened again to this beautiful boy before me, my firstborn love, my Chaseyboy. my first baby to claim a piece of my heart. i love him so much and i know i’ve hurt him so deeply in my actions. in my season(s) of coldness and depression.

i’ve prayed my heart out during our nights but have i really meant it beyond my own selfish desire for sleep of my own? until recently, i don’t think so. i’ve been so selfish and so consumed.

it’s eating away at me. lately i watch him run around and i’m in awe at him and who he is, again. i’m starting to see him the way i once did before, and not just through the eyes of a grieving, confused and broken momma. i still feel broken and confuse and somedays, consumed, but mostly i feel like God is showing me what is before me in the here and now, and how i can live my life with my two beautiful boys and husband and still carry on Eisley’s legacy. it’s okay to feel these waves of grief and sorrow all while intertwined with living a full and happy life here. what’s before me now.

 i am so blessed to call Chase Journey, son. my firstborn. whom from the very beginning his life has truly been quite a journey. so much has happened in his (almost) 3 years of life, it’s unbelievable.

 one night, i was lying in bed with him, reading books before bedtime and i decided to video him reading this book to send to his Grandma Anisa in Alaska. it was a book about construction vehicles and it was so cute. when i pushed play and watched it back, i felt kind of stunned. thanks to having a phone with video capability now, i can watch him now from a perspective that most would see him, not sure if that makes sense. you know, like as a mother or auntie or whatever, you are around the kiddo enough to understand them and how they say things, so while we understand them, others are like, what did they just say? i had that moment. and brain suddenly registered the reality as i listened to his young voice; Chase is still oh so little. my heart stung a bit at that reality. i treat him and expect more out of him as if he were so much older.

i actually goes through these “roller coaster” emotions when it comes to Chase and how i feel i have/haven’t treated him. they go hand in hand with the season i’m in, so in my seasons of feeling more hopeful i feel guilty in how i’ve treated him during my seasons of depression, fear and anxiety. it’s a really hard and draining battle within me but i want to face this.

i want to be clear that i have never ever hated Chase or anything like that. i have always loved him and i always will. i’ve struggled with knowing how to grieve the loss of one child and still really, truly care for my other children the way i can best.

i guess i just wanted to share and see if there may be anyone who has walked this path before and has wisdom for me. whether it be about the nights or about grieving the loss of another child while caring for your children here with you and if you get me and what i’m failing miserably at trying to share here.

please pray for us as we keep processing all of this. please pray that we can find a way to get through these nights and most importantly how to really understand and work through any trauma that Chase is going through.

thanks for reading. i often hit post and know that those who really stick through to the end here (hi, you :)) must really, seriously like me or something for sticking around long enough to go through the ups and downs of my emo processing here. thank you.

love,

jami

suffering.

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many times within a short 2 week span, i’ve heard a different take on suffering. repeatedely and in different ways. today, at a mom’s group i attend, it came up yet again and i sat stunned. but this time, hot tears fell onto my cheeks and i let myself breathe it in.

another momma was standing before the entire group, sharing what we call a “mom minute” of something the Lord was speaking to her heart lately. she shared this passage from James;

My brethren, {count it all joy} when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience. But let patience have its perfect work, that you may be {perfect and complete}, {lacking nothing}.

she shared how she often wanted to run from suffering and then ended with (i’m summarizing but here’s the jist); what would happen if instead of running from it, what if we embraced it?

please note that what i am {not} saying here is that what he is saying in the passage with the “testing of your faith” is that same as “to teach us a lesson”. ugh, no. when that is said to me or when i hear it, it baffles me and to be honest, it’s hard to swallow. that’s not the Father heart of the God that i know. not at all. 

to think that our Father God would ever intentionally wound us or have us walk into a harmful situation or cause a child suffer with disabilities or have a fiance or husband just walk out and leave or let us watch as a loved one dies or permanently disable us or take away our ability to have a child (or another child) or cause a husband to verbally/physically assault a wife or let your child die… – to think that that is what is meant in “the testing of our faith” makes me feel kind of sickened. that is why i completely disagree with the statement that God does things to “teach us a lesson”…the passage says that “when you fall into various trials”, when suffering comes our way remember that “the testing of our faith produces patience”.

when.

then our faith is tested and that then we may learn something while walking through it. (i hope i’m making sense here) …

when we do fall into trials…pain… sorrow…

…suffering.

we can try to hide from it.

we can try to run from it.

we can’t try to suppress it someplace deep within.

oh and do we (i) try. we can temporarily “push it away” and what good does that do. to not face it one day doesn’t mean it won’t still be there tomorrow.

besides, not facing it or pushing it away causes it to fester up, to come up in other ways in our lives, like for me personally; anger towards my love and kids, unbelievable anxiety and fear…

someone i love so dearly is walking through the most difficult season of their life. they are in the midst of suffering and pain. she recently sat on my couch and astounded me with her view on suffering. with tears welling up in her eyes and a pain that was almost tangible she told me that she wanted to get the most out of this season and her time of suffering. for a split second i thought, why?

then it hit me, why not though? we cannot deny suffering when it comes our way. again, we can try, but to truly deny our suffering… no way. it’s there.

we can’t run from it. we can’t hide it away, deep within, without it festering up in some other way and then in the end, we still must face our sufferings.

I read this passage in The Message version (which i personally love) and this is what it read;

 Consider it a sheer gift, friends, when tests and challenges come at you from all sides. You know that under pressure, your faith-life is forced into the open and shows its true colors. {So don’t try to get out of anything prematurely.} Let it do its work so you become mature and well-developed, not deficient in any way.

i love that. “don’t try to get out of anything prematurely”.

i sometimes hate this word but “the reality” is that suffering is here. there is no denying suffering that comes our way or the suffering that is in this world.

so what if, instead of trying to run from it or suppress it, or instead of letting our suffering have a tight grip on us, immobilizing us, we instead turned and embraced it?

what if we counted it all joy?

 my “embracing” my own suffering is probably different from what “embracing” your suffering would look like just as our sufferings are also different and unique.  i’m still not even sure i know for myself what all of this fully means. but what i do know is that instead of trying to run from our reality of suffering that we’re in right now (and maybe until eternity, i don’t know) and instead of letting suffering have a tight grip on me, i will turn and embrace it.
we lost our daughter one year and 5 months ago, and here i am just coming to this realization. that the reality is she is gone to heaven, never to (physically) be a part of our little family here on earth. never to run with her brothers, never to dress like momma and to kiss her daddy’s cheek. and it hurts like hell, this realization. our suffering. but i will embrace the reality that this is how it is right now.
i will embrace our suffering and “count it all joy” knowing that there is promise of new life and a renewed spirit. 
i will “count it all joy” that she is no longer suffering, no longer fighting for life and that in the end of all of this, we will see her again.
i will “count it all joy” that rejoicing will come with the dawn.
i will no longer fear my suffering but embrace my sorrow, my grief, my suffering.

2 months.

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 here are my littlest man’s 2 month photos (he’s almost 3 months now, can you believe that?!)

be ready to {melt} from cuteness

big brother wanted to join in again this time. i. love. it. 

this past month we’ve seen the most change…so far. full of real smiles and coos. oh my WORD, he is a joy.

also, i could swear he’s teething already (Chase began early at 3 months but his first tooth didn’t pop through until 6 months)! chew, chew, chew. drool, drool, drool

he is a super chill, {peaceful} and happy baby (once i figured out a few things for his sleeping and stuffiness)

 he absolutely {adores} his big brother Chase and thinks he is HILarious. (like you see here, ha! no, but seriously, he does. ;)

{melts. my. heart} Chase thought Shailo was tickling him. so stinkin’ funny and cute!

he prefers to sit upright and look around at his surroundings. and while he really does adore his daddy and big brother, he is {such} a momma’s boy already. loves to be in my arms… and i love him there. he’s just a tad “spoiled” some would say.

Shailo Valour, we absolutely adore you and are so very thankful for you.

(in other news, kind of related to this… i have really struggled lately with our loss of Eisley. missing her being apart of even such things as our monthly photoshoots. i should be photographing 3 of my babies; my 2 month old boy, my 2.5-year-old Chasey-boy, and my 15 month Eisley-girl.it’s hard not to think about the “ifs”, especially when i’m reminded daily. i know it would be a tad bit crazier than it sometimes feels now, but i’d give anything for that. anything. the constant reminder that she’s gone is still really hard for me to grasp, especially some days. anyways, my heart just kind of aches a lot lately. i am so grateful for my boys and their LIFE. so very grateful, beyond words. yet i do still ache so much knowing one of my babies isn’t with me anymore. didn’t want to make a post out of this bit, just i guess asking for your thoughts and prayers for me as i walk through this new place that i am. thanks for stoping by and for caring.)

this is not the end.

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I had “planned” on sharing a DIY tonight will you all, but my heart is heavy and somber tonight. Instead I decided to share a song that I was planning on sharing with you Sunday. It’s one that brings {hope and peace} to my heart. And tonight it seems especially fitting. Today, a friend from our days at Youth With A Mission went to be with Jesus. Just shy of 5 months ago he received news that he had a tumor growing on the stem of his brain. 5 months. There are just no words…

This life here is so fleeting, so swift compared to eternity. Oh thank you Jesus, death is not the end. Thank you that there is life, healing, wholeness and rejoicing to come.

This is truly not the end of us.

Celebration of her life.

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September 17th the one year anniversary since Eisley’s birth.

We decided to get away as a family and it was truly what we needed. We spent 4 nights in Denver, some days around our friends and others just as a family. It was a time of remembering her, grieving our loss of her here and celebrating her life.

I really struggled as the anniversary of her passing and her birth came, for many reasons but mostly because it was the first year and I was wondering how on earth could I possibly do anything to commemorate her life in such a special way. I had many ideas on my “list” and was terrified that I wouldn’t honour her in the best way possible. As the time came, I let go of what I had planned and went with what we were feeling. Everything just fell into place naturally and traditions that we will do each year just came about. I feel we did the best in honouring her and no matter how much or how little we could have done, she’ll always hold a place in our family and in our hearts. There are a few things we really wanted to do this year and some things every year and I won’t share everything we did but here are some photos from out weekend.

We decided to do a family photo and a balloon release each year on the week of her birthday.

Another thing we would love to do each year is to make cupcakes with the kids and celebrate her life as one in our family. We want our boys and future kiddos to know their sister and who she was and is to our family.

Left: Chase’s god momma                                         Right: Eisley’s god momma

Melts my heart. <3

Pink Gerber Daisies remind us of her. Chase is blowing the flower to “make a wish” like he does with dandelions.

It was a bittersweet yet {healing} weekend for our us.

Eisley-girl, you are forever in our hearts and apart of our family.