A good day, Happy Birthday CD!

Today, the Amazing Connor Duncan turned two. The status on my Facebook page today included something like this, "...woke up today as the mama of a two-year-old." I can hardly believe it has been two years since Connor was born.

It was Memorial Day 2007. The Saturday before, we celebrated my nephew's birthday with him at his party. A couple of people commented to me about how "ready" I looked. More people guessed whether the baby was a boy or a girl. (All guessed boy.) That evening, I covered a graduation ceremony. It was a bit tiring, but it is my favorite graduation to cover and I enjoyed doing it. On Sunday morning, I went to church. Someone commented that she didn't think I would make it to my due date. I assured her I would... or as close to it as I possibly could. We spent the afternoon and evening with my parents. Darrel and I took my mom to KMart for a few things. I remember picking out a tomato plant or something among a couple of other things in the gardening section. Mom and I had walked every Sunday that we possibly could while I was pregnant. We counted KMart as our walk that Sunday. A week earlier, the doctor told me he didn't think I would make it to my due date. I told him I would, I had to because school let out June 15 and I needed to make it to the end of school. He explained, "you don't understand...you have a big baby, I don't think you WANT to go all the way to your due date." I conceded that the baby could come a little early, but I still wanted to make it to the end of school. I joked with co-workers about having the baby trained to change his (or her) own diapers right away.

That Memorial Day was certainly one to remember. I woke up around 6:30 a.m. and thought that perhaps something was going on, but I wasn't sure what. I posed a messaged on the moms board where we were going through our pregnancies together and then decided to go back to bed. Sometime around 8 a.m. I woke up again and had a pretty good idea that perhaps my water had broken. I didn't check the message board. I woke up Darrel and suggested we go to the hospital. Off we went. By 8:30, I was in L&D and they confirmed that my water had broken. Contractions were starting, but they were pretty irregular. Darrel made some phone calls. His mom and sister came down. My parents came a bit later. It was so nice to be surrounded by so much love. We chatted and enjoyed the time together. Contractions got closer together and a bit more painful, but I made it through unmedicated. I wanted an unmedicated birth and was happy to be going along so well. Connor was "sunnyside-up" as they say. We tried everything we could to get him to roll over. After two hours of pushing, I spiked a fever and his heartrate went way up. They told me I needed a C-section. I didn't want one. For a moment, I was devastated by the thought. Then I remembered what my doctor had said to me two weeks before...I know you don't want a C-section, but if you need to have one for the health of the baby, I know you will do it. And there we were. It was necessary. They wheeled me in and prepped me. I begged them to do something to make the contractions stop. I kept asking for Darrel. Finally he came into the room. I was relieved. Joy filled Darrel's face as he saw our new baby. "It's a boy," he exclaimed. Connor Duncan remained without a name for the next two hours or so. He was born with my fever and they took him to the NICU to stabilize him. Darrel came in and talked to me. We discussed his name and agreed that he looked like a Connor. Though, I still hadn't held my little guy. They finally brought him in to me. My heart was overjoyed. I was officially a mama.

Flash-forward two years...we have been through so much in the past two years. I look at his newborn photo that my dad took of him in the NICU, the photo from when he turned one and the photo we just had taken of him for his two-year photo and my baby, my precious little baby (who wasn't all that little weighing in at close to nine pounds over three weeks before his due date) is a little boy now, BUT...he still looks the same. I can see him in ever single picture we have ever taken of him.

Today was a good day. I got up before everyone else and did a couple of things in the yard. I needed to do them and I needed some of the quiet serenity to get a few things out of my system. At one point, I cried. It is so hard to still be in the relatively early stages of grieving for Lawrence while preparing to celebrate with Connor. I prayed a little, too. And, I looked forward to wishing Connor a happy birthday. Darrel came out and checked on me a short time later. The rest of the house was up and moving. We headed to Delhi where we picked up beverages from our favorite coffee house on our way to Darrel's mom's house. Connor got a special smoothie (strawberry-banana, for the first time) as a birthday gift from the owner. We helped my mother-in-law with a few things and despite my being a little stressed about the time, we managed to complete our intended afternoon. We picked up the newspapers and then headed to the Ghiradelli Ic Cream Shop nearby where Connor got to pick out a special birthday gift and we enjoyed ice cream together. Connor napped on the way back home. We picked up some dinner and enjoyed a quiet night at home. Connor got to pop open his gift that he'd chosen and share a piece of chocolate for his final birthday treat. He'd chosen a metal lunchbox that has images of all of the state flags on it filled with a variety of the yummy chocolate squares. He had some milk and was down for the night before 10 p.m. Since most days he goes to bed around 9:30, he hadn't stayed up too much later on this special day. He seemed to have a great time. He finished off his day with a phone call to his nana and some snuggle time first with mama then with daddy.

He had his daycare birthday celebration yesterday and he has his birthday part on Saturday. Oh boy! This kid has it good. And so do we. We are so blessed to have the Amazing Connor Duncan in our lives. Happy birthday to my sweet boy!

I'll update after his party Saturday.

As an aside...on Tuesday, we received a call that the necklace I had ordered came in and so I went an picked it up from the mortuary. It is beautiful. It has Lawrence's footprint on the front and his name and angel day on the back. I put it on as soon as I got in the car and I haven't removed it.

Bringing home LJ

I'm in the middle of writing my column for this month's issue. Of course, I have been since sometime Thursday. I've managed to procrastinate far too much. Most of my computer time today has been spent checking out message boards, blogs and doing mindless quizzes on Facebook. All of this is a bit funny, of course, because I left off writing about the social networking sites in my column. I'll get back to it here in a few minutes, I think, but I needed to blog first.

We had a list of errands to run yesterday afternoon. We just had a couple of things we wanted to get done. So, we did. But, we had one very important errand added to our list. I spoke with the mortuary Friday morning and the death certificate was ready for us and cremation complete. It was time for us to go back.

Now, before I go on about that, I need to note something. Lawrence Joseph is already home. He went home to be with God nearly a month ago. This is something I believe, something I know. But, this was the earthly version of him coming home. Instead of bringing home a new baby to feed, diaper, love and care for, we were tasked with bringing home his remains. I thought I was ready for this. It had dragged out long enough. I was ready for this to be done...and so I thought. A week earlier, I had a telephone conversation with the mortuary during which they told me the cremation would likely be done Monday (or Tuesday, at the latest). Monday night, I shared with Darrel the thought I had when the woman told me that. "Can't I hold him one more time?" I didn't say it out loud. Truly, I don't think I wanted to. In fact, I know that since three weeks had passed, I did not want to see him again. But, for a moment, I thought about it.

When we arrived at the mortuary, it took all that I had in me to get out of the truck. I grabbed Darrel's hand as we walked up to the door. We entered. We sat down to wait. I thought I was ok. A woman brought out some papers that needed to be signed. Darrel took care of that. She handed us a copy of the death certificate in an envelope. Darrel was (I think) trying to close the clasp, but I took it from him, opened it, reviewed the death certificate, my heart sank just a little and then I returned it to the envelope and closed the clasp. The woman had two papers that Darrel signed and put them into a regular letter envelope. She also held a small plastic bag with handles. And she said, "I'll take you to where he is." (or something like that)

We walked down the hall and she entered a room. We followed. I was not prepared for what was waiting for us. LJ's urn sat on a strategically lit table, raised up a bit. I stopped dead in my tracks. "This is it....this is how my baby comes home...this is the end of the road...this is not my life..." all sorts of thoughts flooded through my mind. I started to cry and sucked it up all at once, Darrel squeezed my hand. At the same moment, I was overwhelmed by the beauty. The picture we had seen of this urn was beautiful, but it did not do justice to it at all. It's shiny (silver) and it had appeared with more of a stone look to it. It caught the light and almost glowed (for lack of a better word). It was breathtaking. I think that's partly what made this more difficult and yet more comforting all at once.

The woman asked if we'd like some time alone in the room. (Another flood of thoughts raced through my mind as I glanced at Darrel during her brief pause.) "Whatever you want to do," she said.

My thoughts at that moment: Whatever I want? I don't want this. I don't want any of this. I don't want to be here. I don't want to be in this situation. I don't want to take my baby home this way.

The words I actually spoke: "I don't want...(pause)...anything..." Nothing more made it's way out of my mouth. She walked up to put the urn into the bag she was holding. She handed it to us.

As we left, I dealt with new thoughts: This is it? This is how we take him home? I'm carrying him to the truck like a souvenir...in a bag. But he was my son. He's my baby. He's not some souvenir. Why a bag? What is happening here?

When we got home, I couldn't bring myself to just set the bag down someplace. I had to put the urn someplace nice. (Normally, I would have dropped the things from my hands and gone straight to the bathroom after errand running.) I placed it next to the family portrait we had done last year. The image on the urn is called "Going home."

Lawrence Joseph is now home in two places. He is home with God and he is home with us. He is finally home.

You got that right

This song is one I can relate to and I have loved it since I first heard it. Of course, I'm a little older than 20, but I think it still fits. Thank you, Francesca Battistelli for writing and singing this song. And now, I share it...First the lyrics, then you can have a listen...

At twenty years of age I'm still looking for a dream
A war's already waged for my destiny
But You've already won the battle
And You've got great plans for me
Though I can’t always see

(Chorus)
‘Cause I got a couple dents in my fender
Got a couple rips in my jeans
Try to fit the pieces together
But perfection is my enemy
On my own I'm so clumsy
But on Your shoulders I can see
I'm free to be me

When I was just a girl I thought I had it figured out
My life would turn out right, and I'd make it here somehow
But things don't always come that easy
And sometimes I would doubt

(Chorus)
‘Cause I got a couple dents in my fender
Got a couple rips in my jeans
Try to fit the pieces together
But perfection is my enemy
On my own I'm so clumsy
But on Your shoulders I can see
I'm free to be me

And you’re free to be you

Sometimes I believe that I can do anything
Yet other times I think I've got nothing good to bring
But You look at my heart and You tell me
That I've got all You seek
And it’s easy to believe
Even though

(Chorus)
‘Cause I got a couple dents in my fender
Got a couple rips in my jeans
Try to fit the pieces together
But perfection is my enemy
On my own I'm so clumsy
But on Your shoulders I can see
I'm free to be me

Speechless

What a weekend it has been. It's been packed full of ups and downs...a bit of a roller coaster ride for us. First a brief update. We still don't have Lawrence's ashes. I spoke with the mortuary on Friday. The doctor finally signed off on his death certificate sometime Friday and we should have his ashes by sometime Tuesday. It is unfortunate that this has dragged out so long. It makes it a bit more difficult for us. But, we are hanging in and doing the best we can. I'm still working my way through some books. (Thank you Heather and Shannah...you gals rock!)

So, about that roller coaster I (we) have been riding this weekend...

I went out to my first larger community event since we lost Lawrence. A gentleman we know was leaving part way through and as he walked by, I waved. He returned my wave, said hello and goodbye. All of a sudden, I caught him coming back to me. He offered his condolences, a handshake and a hug. All I could get out was, "thank you."
Speechless because of kindness.

At that same event, another business acquaintance of ours asked how I was feeling. I said, "ok." He gave a slight rub of my shoulder as if to offer some reassurance and caring. I appreciated that.
Speechless because of someone else taking a moment to let me know they care.

Just before I was set to leave that event, someone else approached me. As it turned out, this was someone who knew I was pregnant, but didn't know we had lost the baby. He said, "I see you've had your new baby." umm...yeah...I said, "he was stillborn." He said, "I'm so sorry" and offered his condolences. I was near tears, but tried not to let it show.
Speechless because of unintended hurt.

All of these people care and it's nice to know we have so many great people in our lives.

The speechlessness doesn't end there.

Yesterday afternoon we went out to do some shopping for Connor's birthday party. Here is the story of the store clerk who did not know when to shut up...or, shall I say, stop talking. ugh!

We had finished our shopping and we had a LOT of stuff. As the clerk started ringing up our things, she started chatting with us. Connor is a natural conversation starter. Everyone has something to say about his hair. And, "those curls." So, she's talking away and we're interacting with her. Then she asks, "is he your first?" We answer, "yes." Then she starts going on and on..."not ready to have anymore? I'm sure he's a handful..." (by this time, we are looking at each other and our faces drop) "I have a three-year-old and...I can understand why you're not ready...." and on and on from there. I didn't say anything. Darrel didn't say anything. I stopped making eye contact with her. What should I say? We opted to say nothing. We couldn't quite bring ourselves to say anything. And, of course, she just kept talking. and talking and talking...then she asked us about his binky and how much he has it and this, that and the other thing. I said, "well, he just started needing it more again within the past couple of weeks." She said, "oh, is he teething?" I started to say something but before the words actually reached my lips, Darrel said, "yeah." We exchanged another look. We could read each other's pain. What I had started to say was, "His brother died." I said nothing. I have felt like writing a letter to the store, but I don't know what I would say. I just don't know...
And so, I was once again speechless and apparently remain so.

The final episode of speechlessness came today from a considerably more positive experience. Some of the ladies from the June 07 moms board got together to do something for us. One of them made a beautiful box with Lawrence's name on it. We love it. Of course, we wish we didn't have to have such a thing, but we appreciate it. The words "thank you" seem so inadequate. We are blessed to have so many kind and supportive people in our lives.
Speechless because of the sincere thoughtfulness of others.

I have picked up a couple of new journals and will start one this week. We'll see where the journey takes me. It will most certainly be a journey. The journal I am about to start will be complete separate from my usual journal.

And with that, I suppose it is time to bid goodnight.

More music

These two songs are ones I've known, but they have especially struck me when they've come on the radio the past couple of days. Before I post them, I have one addition to the post I made below. Last night, I finally decided that I was ready to open the envelope with the pictures of Lawrence. I sobbed. I smiled. I was comforted. I was pained. I survived. I am glad that I looked at them. I had previously felt this want to see them, but inability to look at them. I said to Darrel, "I really want to see them, but I really don't want to look at them." He understood. He was beautiful. He was tiny. He looked like Connor. He was like a smaller version of our newborn Connor. Also, we received and have read "We were gonna have a baby, but had an angel instead." Connor read it with my mom this afternoon and my dad this evening, too. My sweet boy has started saying the word cries. Pray for the three of us. This is definitely affecting Connor in ways I don't think any of us will ever know or understand. But, like us, he will be ok. More than once in the last week, I have had to snuggle, rock and sing him to sleep. I am going to make the most of that time when he wants it. onto the music...

Thank you Chris Tomlin for recording this...


Thank you Tenth Avenue North for the reminder that God is by my side and holding me.

Notes about the service

I didn't include much in the way of specifics about the service we did for Lawrence on May 5, so I thought I would go ahead and do that now. First, an update. As you know, we received the autopsy results this week. We followed up with the mortuary yesterday and they were still waiting for the doctor to sign off on his death certificate. Apparently they had some difficulty in getting that taken care of, but it seems to be falling into place now. The doctor was supposed to sign off today and we should be able to pick up LJ's remains tomorrow. This, of course, has led to me occasionally wishing I could hold him one more time or do something. This is bringing more of a sense of finality to all of this and it hurts some. It is also a relief that his earthly being will finally be at rest. Every step that allows us some bit of forward movement is good, even when it is difficult. Tomorrow night, Darrel is taking me to a movie at the State Theater and I'm looking forward to that. Connor will get a night with his Auntie, Uncle and cousins. I'm sure he'll enjoy it. It will be quiet, though. Today was my last ESL class for the spring term. I'm going to use the summer to revamp my lessons and likely work on writing my own citizenship book (we'll see how that goes). I also have a lot of reading to do and, of course, the business needs some of my attention. Our journalism program will also go through the summer and we are looking forward to that.

Two weeks from today (I haven't been to bed yet, so it is still Thursday), Connor D will turn two! I can hardly believe it. We need to finalize a couple of things and get invitations sent for his part. Time has slipped away from me in the midst of the emotional and physical blur of the last (almost) three weeks. Has it really been that long already? How is that possible?

ok, so for the promised notes about the service. My dad did the Old Testament Reading. My sister-in-law did the New Testament reading. Our dear friend (who is Connor's Godfather and likely would have been Lawrence's Godfather) read one of the Psalms. We had three clergy present -- Father Glenn, Deacon George and Reverend Kathie. Having such an amazing and prayerful clergy team made for a beautiful service. Our friend Fil read a couple of things on our behalf. Darrel had written something detailing his experiences from that dreadful night and his feelings that followed. I wrote a poem. I also put together a prayer using pieces of what we'd written and other prayers from the Book of Common Prayer (1979). The service included a full Eucharist. Our friends put together a lovely reception that followed the service. And as people left, we offered them each a balloon to release. Some wrote on them. Some did not. I am blessed to have watched a handful of the releases. We allowed everyone to do it in their own time and own way and I think that was a good way to go. Everyone also left with a blue and pink ribbon in recognition of stillbirth awareness. The day before, Darrel, our cousin and I worked diligently on preparations for the service...the most time and effort went into carefully putting together the ribbons. It was time well spent and we've found that even people who weren't at the service want ribbons. We still have a few left (although most of them do not have the pins attached) if anyone would like one.

We are being remembered in thoughts and prayers around the world. Among those, we are being remembered during prayer at the daily masses at St. Peter's Basilica in Vatican City. Lawrence Joseph also has a page in a book at the Church of the Holy Innocents in New York City. We are most thankful for all of our friends and family who are remembering us in their thoughts and prayers...and for all of the support we have received. I'm even thankful for the well-meaning people who don't know quite what to say and those who despite not knowing quite what to say, open their mouths and say things that aren't particularly comforting. (At least once I heard, "well, you look good" at a time when I really didn't care...it was less than a week after we lost our angel and how I looked was the farthest thing from my cares and worries. But we've heard all sorts of odd things since then, too.)

To close tonight, I will include the poem I wrote and the prayer I put together. We are hoping that there is some way we can help get some form of official stillbirth acknowledgment to be put in place in the Episcopal Church. And, we are hoping that if there is anything we can do to make this possible, we will have the opportunity to do so.

From a mama of an angel

We never got to know you
or see your sparkling eyes
We never saw you crawl or run;
God took you, by surprise.

How we long to hold you,
watch you grow and play.
We wish that you were with us;
You are in God's loving arms
as we are left to pray.

You are with your Papa now,
as choirs of angels sing.
We love you and we miss you
And pray for comfort that
only God can bring.

We pray you'll be there waiting
with Jesus by your side
He loves the little children and
He is our only guide.

*******************************

Prayer for Lawrence Joseph
(including excerpts from BCP prayers)

O God, our times are in your hand. We know that in Jesus Christ there are no goodbyes. We humbly beseech thee graciously to behold and bless those whom we love, now absent from us, especially Lawrence Joseph. Grant that we may be bound together by thy love in the Communion of the Holy Spirit, and in the fellowship of thy saints. We entrust all who are dear to us to thy never-failing care and love, for this life and the life to come. Look with pity upon the sorrows of thy servants, especially Darrel, Rebekah, and their family. Remember them in mercy, and bring them peace. Helps their seeds of faith and hope to grow. Hold Lawrence Joseph in your loving arms. And, be with us all, through Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen.

Even "good" news hurts

Connor had a doctor's appointment today. After we finished the very simple part of the appointment, we were informed that the results of Lawrence's autopsy had been received. Did we want to know? Were we ready?

Well, since I think knowing they were due any day and not knowing the results have had a lot to do with my recent anxiety attacks, I felt ready.

The bad news: The cause of death was determined to be the result of a true-knot in the cord. There was nothing we could do.

True knots are said to occur in 1% of all pregnancies. False knots are believed to be far more common. We were told (and we both understood it this way) that of those 1%, 6% will result in fetal death. That puts us in a very, very small minority. As Darrel summed it up at the doctor's office, "So, it was really bad luck."

The good news: The baby checked out perfectly. He was as he should have been at 25 weeks. I checked out fine. The placenta checked out fine. There was no indication of any placental abruption. There were no genetic anomalies. All was seemingly fine. There was nothing we could do.

This news has brought both feelings of relief and great pain to me. I have more questions that I will likely ask at my appointment tomorrow, but the answers won't help me feel better or hurt me more.

Please keep other moms in your prayers. One mom on the August Expecting board is watching her daughter fight for her life. She was born at 27 weeks. Two other moms are, like me, recovering physically and emotionally from losing their babies at birth. Only one do I know what happened. It was the result of the baby getting tangled up in her cord. Pray for all of the August Bullfrogs and Butterflies. A mom from the June board sent me some books and I think all of them will be helpful. It looks like I will spend the summer reading instead of preparing for a new baby. She also sent a beautiful wood figurine of an angel holding a baby. It has a special place on our shelf in the living room. Darrel picked out the place for it. He, too, is having a difficult time. I hope people remember that dads hurt too.

We thank everyone for your continued thoughts and prayers. Down the line we will start pursuing a fundraising event. For now, we are focusing on that which is important. We will keep you posted.

For Mother's Day, I received a single rose hand-delivered to me by my sweet Connor and a pair of sandals (that I got to choose). We went to church with mom and dad, then went to their house for brunch. Dad, Darrel and Connor cooked. It was great. I spent the afternoon working on thank you notes. I have a couple more to write. And then last night we went to dinner with Darrel's mom and his sister and her family. It was really nice. The day ended with a concert put on by Connor just for me (and grandma, too, I think) in our living room. He got out a box that he used for a stage, played his (toy) guitar and sang for us. It was a perfect ending to a lovely day.

Tonight, Darrel, Connor and I stayed in and had dinner just the three of us. We watched a movie, but took a break to play ball around the living room. All three of us had a wonderful time. I am so blessed. That is what I am holding onto during this strange, difficult time. I'm still in a bit of a fog, but I am doing everything I can to hold onto the blessings. They keep me strong.

The story at the beginning of the video below is worth listening to, but if you would prefer to skip to the story, let it load and go about two minutes in and the song will start. This song has gotten me through some tough times before, but it just re-entered my mind today and I pray it helps me through this time as well.



I thank God for our friends and family. I pray they are blessed and watched over each and every day. Thank you all for everything you have done for us, especially the past couple of weeks. Words cannot express our gratitude.

MercyMe hits home

I'm admittedly having a difficult time today. We made the ribbons, copied and folded the bulletins, shared some things that we wrote...

Something Darrel wrote made me think of a MercyMe song called "Homesick." This is one of my favorite bands right now and even though they have come to the Valley more than once, I have never had the opportunity to see them in concert (much to my disappointment). This song touched me before, but it holds even more meaning to me now. And so...I express myself in my blog through yet another song.



Tomorrow at 9:30 a.m. PDT is the service for Lawrence Joseph. Following the service, we will do a balloon release. Wherever you are in the world, please feel free to participate.

A huge thank you for all of the love and support and prayers we have received. Thank you, thank you.

Wrap me in your arms...

This song has been in my head off and on for the past couple of days. I am finding some comfort in it, but it is also at times yanking some of the emotions from me. I had a good cry when it was performed last night by BOOK (two-thirds of the band you'll hear performing it below). If I had asked them to play one song at the service on Tuesday, it would have been this one. But hearing it last night was probably even better. I needed it.

A thank you to our friends Fil and Tim for playing at the art show closing last night. And thank you for being our friends. Thank you to everyone for your hugs, prayers and support during this very difficult time. We love you all.

Wrap...