Happy Birthday Hart!

Today, Hart would have turned 7 years old. That is so hard to fathom. I can't really picture what our family snapshot would look like if he had lived. I cannot imagine the dynamics, the relationships, the dirt. But, I also cannot envision our lives had he not been born. He is a part of our daily lives, as a baby, an angel, a hero and completely dirt-free! We each have a relationship with him, he adds to the interactions of our family, but these are different than if he had survived.

Today isn't a sad day for us, but a day of celebration. We didn't think we would get a chance to celebrate Hart's life. We honestly thought his birthday and death day would be the same; that we would have one date to "contend" with. But what a blessing to be able to celebrate his life! That being said, I've already cried 3 times today (and it's only 7:30 am). But these are not tears of sadness, they are tears of gratitude, tears of happy memories, tears of remembering the kindness of others, tears of feeling love.

I had been warned by countless well-meaning folks, (folks are those people who open their mouths without turning their filters on first!) that Hart's first birthday would be unbearable. That the numbness that enveloped me from the moment of his death would begin to wain, and I would finally feel the true weight of my grief. Really, the truly unbearable part, was everyone telling me that. For weeks, I braced myself, waiting for the breaking point; waiting for the drop of water that would cause the flood walls to break. It never happened. (In the back of my mind, I wondered if I somehow had too much anesthetic and that my numbness wasn't wearing off on time-what on earth was wrong with me? I wasn't losing my mind like I was supposed to!)

Of course there were tears and moments of sadness on his first birthday, but mostly we rejoiced in knowing Hart. It was against all odds that we even got the chance to meet him, let alone create memories. A miracle that my children got to hold and touch and love him! Change his diapers, feed him! It was amazing, and we felt an indescribable joy in that! I finally understand what Alfred Lord Tennyson meant-

I hold it true, whate'er befall;
I feel it, when I sorrow most;
'Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.

This poem has nothing to do with the teenage angst I always associated it with!
Each year for Hart's birthday, we buy a children's book published in the current year. The thought is one day, our children will move out, take their books with them and we will still possess a lovely collection of children's books. 

This year we chose these two fabulous books!

 













Happy, happy birthday to my beautiful baby boy!

The Significance of Butterflies

Last night, steadfast husband and I went to a charity event, during which I became the proud new owner of a gorgeous butterfly necklace. Because I am celebrating Hart's memory this week, the timing couldn't have been more perfect.

We belonged to the most fabulous church when we lived in Indiana. We loved our church. A lot. The people in it, the programs they offered, the ministers, everything. Our favorite minister, Dr. Joan, was the most amazing woman. While I'm sure having a favorite minister isn't uncommon, it is probably totally Christian-ly incorrect for me to flagrantly admit it-please forgive me...but she was our favorite! Dr. Joan exuded peace, intelligence, love and all good things. She baptized most of our children (including Hart). We started meeting with her while I was pregnant with Hart in order to help us emotionally and spiritually prepare for the loss of our son. We also started planning his funeral.
Dr. Joan asked for our input and we added songs and bible verses that were important to us. We told her who would speak during the service and our overall vision for the service. (Okay, I can’t believe that we had an "overall vision" for the funeral, and even worse that I uttered the words “overall vision” out loud, but-my journal tells me it is so.) She said she had a special idea for our children and, if it was okay with us, she would work on that. We talked to Dr. Joan often during my pregnancy, when Hart was born, and during his life. When the time came for his funeral, it was a relief having had the chance to make the preparations in advance.
The funeral was absolutely beautiful. Several days after his funeral, I received a letter from the mother of my childhood best friend telling me that his service was the most beautiful, moving church service, of any kind, that she had ever been to. It made me smile.
A funeral for a baby is so sad, but it is also so beautiful and pure. It is love and light and brightness (and incredibly difficult to describe). One of the most amazing things about Hart's funeral was the butterflies. During the service, Dr. Joan called my children up to the front of the church to sit beside her on the steps. She had a closed box on her lap. She told them it was filled with Monarch Butterflies. She spoke about the brief, but beautiful life of the butterflies and compared their lives to Hart’s. She asked my children if they wanted to keep them in the box or if they wanted her to open the lid to let them fly. They said to open the lid (thank you, God) and when she did, butterflies flew throughout the sanctuary.
It was such an incredible moment. Dr. Joan had another box of butterflies and asked if we would like to take them home with us. We let the butterflies fly around our house. Having butterflies fly around the house brought moments of joy to our family during very grim days. Since his funeral, whenever we see Monarch butterflies we think of Hart. They have come to represent such a special, beautiful memory.

I couldn’t talk about Hart’s funeral without adding the beautiful words my sister spoke that day! She wrote the following on her flight from Beijing to Indianapolis following Hart’s death.

           I am finally alone, I have a sixteen hour trip ahead of me. Lord, I really need this time... solitude to think, time to talk with You.
       You know how hard it's been for me to be away from Erin and her family, halfway around the world. I can't get there fast enough...but I am also staring my complete inability to make it better right in the face.
      I want to fix it. I want to bring Your peace and comfort to them. Sometimes the pain seems more than we can bear. I thank you, Lord for those moments of joy, in spite of our broken hearts.
     The psalmist writes "I cried out-I'm slipping, and your unfailing love, o Lord, supported me. When doubts filled my mind, your comfort gave me renewed hope."
    So we come to you, Lord, as Paul writes in Hebrews: "let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God, there we will receive his mercy and we find grace to help us when we need it."
    We thank you that we can come to you, Lord, unafraid, raw honest....and lay it all down before you. Thank you that we can say: this hurts, we don't understand, this stinks! We can scream, cry out and this doesn't change how much you love us. Nothing can ever separate us from your love. You will never leave us, You will never forsake us.
     Thank you, Father., for the miracle of Hart. Thank you for choosing Erin and John to be his parents and his brothers and sisters to be his siblings. You knew from the beginning that they would love him unconditionally and not hold anything back, even though they knew his time here would be short and how hard it would be to say good-bye.
     Against all odds, he survived the pregnancy, he made it through labor and delivery, and lived with his family for 24 days. We thank you for his 24 strong, healthy and joyous days.
     I love Psalm 139 where David says, "You saw me before I was born, every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed."
     So many of the truths we know, Lord. But sometimes we need to convince our broken hearts to embrace them. Our hands ache to hold, our arms feel empty.
     Give us your grace in full measure. Let us feel Your hand on the small of our backs and help us console each other. Take us through this as only You can, to embrace our pain and Hart's death and still embrace life, to go on trusting and loving, knowing that You are faithfully meeting our every need.                               Amen

Beautiful!

Remembering Hart

Each year, as the anniversary of our beloved baby, Hart's birthday approaches, awareness of my emotions and those of my family, becomes heightened. A type of fear hovers over my existence as I wonder how we will manage this year. But for the 6 years we have celebrated his birthday and his brief life, it has never been bad. Don't get me wrong, it has been incredibly sad, we miss Hart terribly, but it has also been filled with celebration, reflection, memories and love. As Dolly Parton said in the movie Steel Magnolias, "Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion"-we have a lot of that! I just feel that it is my duty to be on the look-out for the day that we can no longer pull the joy from the tragedy; the day we give in and wallow in our heartache.

Hart would have been 7 years old on November 15. I can't believe it has been 7 years since I gave birth to this amazing little boy. It truly seems like a lifetime ago, I don't even remember the person I was before I knew Hart. I hope that there is some core part of me that remains, but when your life changes in such a profound way, you change along with it. There are times when I feel heavier than I'd like, that my grief weighs down my spirit, that my laughter has to work harder to take flight, that my joy has to shake off a layer of sludge before it surfaces, that my insouciant essence is like a balloon, low on helium, floating just above the carpet.

There are times when the burden of these ever-present feelings gets in my way, drains me, annoys me, makes me long for a time when I was weightless. But fortunately those times are rare. Would I trade knowing and losing Hart in order to purge the grief on my heart? Not for a second. The love that grew in this darkness knows no bounds-I have gained so much more than I could ever lose.

7 years ago, I was a small part of something that was so much greater than the sum of its parts. Our little boy, who wasn't supposed to live outside the womb, lived for almost a month. In that month's time (and beyond) we were enveloped in prayers from across the world, were eye-witnesses to unexpected grace, were recipients to anonymous acts of kindness, we experienced unimaginable amounts of love and support from our friends and family. Strangers reached out to us and became our friends. We felt peace-not an easy thing to feel when you are anticipating the loss of your child, but that is what we prayed for, and that is what God gave us. I have never seen anything like it, let alone lived it.

When I was pregnant, we were told Hart wouldn't survive the pregnancy-he did. When I was in labor-we were told he wouldn't survive labor-he did. When I delivered him, we were told he wouldn't survive delivery-he did. On and on it went-an hour, a day, a week. Hart lived for almost a month. Although he was terminally ill, he was able to live with our family, in our home as any other newborn would. It was such an unexpected blessing, an amazing gift. One that I must admit, I was a bit reluctant to accept. We had completely prepared for an alternate ending! I didn't feel equipped to take a baby home, a baby who I knew was going to die. I felt like I needed some books, courses, a support staff, even some well placed stickers with helpful tips-anything! But thanks to the wise words of a friend of mine, (who also happens to be a fabulous neonatologist), who incredulously said "What do you mean you've never done this before? You've done it 5 times! You guys are going home!" I was able to switch gears psychologically, letting go of the idea that "I have never done this before" and starting to celebrate and rejoice in our baby!

In celebration of Hart's 7th birthday, I will be honoring his memory by sharing stories from his amazing life. Over the next week, I will share several special stories that illustrate the impact his short life had on so many people.

Thank you for sharing this special time.

Baby Girl Turns 5

Today, my youngest moppet turns 5 years-old! I really can't believe it! It seems like only yesterday that she was born-yet, at the same time, that she has been in our family always! (Isn't it funny how that works?)

Five seems so much older than four, and I am really having a hard time accepting it! Not only for Baby Girl, but for our entire family. As much as I have resisted it, our family has turned a page. I feel a little like Grover in "The Monster at the End of This Book."  I, too, have tried rope, nails, and bricklaying as means of preventing the pages from being turned!  

By virtue of being the youngest of a large family, Baby Girl has been a "baby" for longer than any of her siblings. When First Born was 5, he was practically driving the car and doing our taxes, Oldest Daughter was putting laundry away when she was 4 and Middle Daughter was making pancakes at age 3. The next two changed their own diapers, mixed their own formula and read themselves bedtime stories. But not Baby Girl. I have learned that children don't go to college with diapers and pacifiers (well, usually) and that there is no need to rush things-it goes too fast as it is! I have also confirmed a long held belief that being the youngest rules!

Lately, when I look at the landscape of our family, I hardly recognize it! I grudgingly acknowledge that we are no longer a family with children that are "free with the price of admission". As we celebrate Baby Girl's 5th birthday, (and she no longer lets me buckle her in to the infant seat on the top of the carts at Target) I am starting to accept, even look forward to, the next page in our book!

                                     

The Secret of the Universe or How I Accidentally Made the Most Amazing Chocolate Chip Cookies!

Many of the fabulous things in my life happen by complete accident. I will paint a wall and when I realize it's a bad color, I'll paint over it and paint over it again until it turns out that the layers of colors have created an accidentally beautiful effect! Hurray, happy happenstance! I'd say my gift is knowing what doesn't work, and in undoing, or covering my mistakes, something fabulous sometimes occurs. So I can't really take credit for these things (although I often do).

This is exactly what happened the other evening when we decided to make chocolate chip cookies at 8:30. Steadfast Husband was out of town, and we were all in our pajamas, preparing to bid our day adieu. That's when it hit. I was totally jonesing for a sweet treat. I could hear the siren call of the recently purchased 5 pound (thank you, Costco) bag of chocolate chips in the pantry. I summoned my sweet 14-year-old (the chef/baker of the bunch) and oh, so sweetly asked if she thought chocolate chip cookies sounded good. She wholeheartedly assented, and generously offered to make them! Okay, I may be a little foggy on this point. It is very possible that I suggested that she make them, (please, because she is the best baker in the whole wide world) as I pulled mixing bowls, measuring cups, and the mixer out onto the counter. Either way, she started pouring, cracking, mixing, and sampling. The recipe doesn't even mention eggs until near the end, and with the impromptu nature of our cookie making, we didn't set the ingredients before we started. Oops! We were out of eggs-and frankly, no amount of cookie desire was getting me out of my pajamas and into the grocery store!

We were too far in to abort operation sweet treat, so for the 42nd time this week, I said thank you to Al Gore (he invented the Internet, right?!) and hopped online to search "egg substitute baking". Actually, I initially googled "egg substitute", but quickly saw the need to narrow the search parameters. We were out of applesauce, the most commonly suggested substitute. Then, I stumbled onto the suggestion of a mixture of baking powder, oil and water. I must admit, I doubted that the cookies would taste the same and I was right! They tasted even better! They were the best chocolate chip cookies we have ever had. They were a little crispy on the outside, soft and chewy on the inside. Scrumptious!!!!

I baked another batch when Steadfast Husband returned from his trip. He couldn't believe how delicious they were either! Really! So here is the recipe for these amazing treats! Enjoy!

Chocolate Chip Cookies without eggs

2 1/4 Cups flour
      1 teaspoon baking soda
      1 teaspoon salt
      1 Cup (2 sticks) butter
  3/4  Cup sugar
  3/4  Cup brown sugar (packed)
     1 teaspoon vanilla extract
eggs substitution-mix together 4 Tablespoons water, 2 Tablespoons vegetable oil, 4 teaspoons baking   
                          powder-mix well. This is amount is the equivalent of 2 eggs.
     2 cups semi-sweet chocolate chips
Mix flour, baking soda and salt. Set aside
Beat butter, sugars, and vanilla extract. Slowing add egg substitute mixture. Beat well.
Add flour mixture. Mix well.
Stir in chocolate chips.
drop tablespoon-size dollops onto baking sheet

Bake at 375 degrees for 9-11 minutes (until golden)
Enjoy!

The yummiest french onion soup!

Every once in a while, we have a something yummy for dinner that the majority of the family likes, even rarer is when we have something most everyone LOVES! My homemade french onion soup is one such dish! Not long ago, we were at a fabulous restaurant for dinner and I noticed French Onion soup on the menu. I suggested to my first born that he order a bowl. He said, "I don't want it, it won't be as good as yours!" He is absolutely horrible at sucking up, so I know he meant it. It is a chilly, rainy, fall day, so I decided to make it today and share my recipe. I hope you enjoy it too!

Ingredients
4-5 large sweet onions
4 T butter
2 T flour
1 cup white wine-not sweet (can use red in a pinch)
8 cups beef broth
1t salt
1t pepper
french baguette (sliced)
grated Parmesan cheese
sliced Swiss cheese

slice onions, cook in butter until soft, slightly brown (about 35-40 minutes) stir occasionally
add flour, cook 3-4 minutes, stir often
add wine. cook until most liquid is gone (about 8 minutes) stir often
add broth, salt and pepper, simmer for at least 30 minutes

lightly toast baguette (in toaster)
ladle soup into oven-safe bowls (individual servings)
place toast on top of soup
put 1 T Parmesan cheese over bread
place a slice (or 2) of Swiss cheese on top of bread

set bowls on cookie sheet,  place in oven, bake at 450 degrees until cheese is melted and golden about 8 minutes.
Bowls will be very hot, so please be careful!!!!
Enjoy!

smart aleck comment or true wisdom?

Last night at dinner everyone was talking at once (typical) and I was trying to get everyone's attention. Baby girl said "Shush guys, only mama can be talking right now." (Love her!) Of course, everyone continued chattering away, (baby girl doesn't hold a lot of clout when it comes to bossing the group). I exclaimed, "Ugh, why is no one listening to me?!" Without missing a beat, firstborn piped up, "That's what parenting is, talking when no one is listening!" I honestly about wet my pants! It's funny because it's true! I'm thinking about having t-shirts made!

Tales of a Fourth Grade Everything

There are times in my (motherhood) life, that things just, well, are. I don't mean "it is what it is" are, I mean the state of being that exists when there are no extreme highs, no devastating lows. With six children, a myriad of pets, and a steadfast husband (that, let's be honest, is only steadfast most of the time) that doesn't occur very often. But at this moment, this very second in time, I am experiencing that phenomenon! It is really a cause for celebration. It is also Sunday night and most of the moppets are working their way to sleepy town! (Thank you, school night). But I'll take it when I can get it!

In the absence of extinguishing fires, comforting sad hearts, shoring-up fragile constitutions, I have the opportunity to do a bit of homework that was assigned to me by my son's fourth grade teacher. I am supposed to write him a letter that will be read in front of the class. The letter is supposed to tell him how I feel about him and include funny stories about his childhood (so far). I would guess telling about him wearing his sisters "twirly dress" until he was three is not a story he would want me to share. Fourth graders can be so judgemental! So I decided the teacher's idea of funny stories and my idea of funny stories are probably quite different and in an effort to not embarrass my son, I have chosen to go with endearing as a theme for his letter. I must make it clear, I completely believe in embarrassing my children, but only when the time is right, and when I can be there to enjoy it. He is still a little young for the full force of intentional parental embarrassment, and hasn't behaved in a way that warrants it yet!

So here is my letter to my sweet little boy.

Dear sweet fourth grader,
       You are an amazing person. You are sunshine and joy and you spread your light wherever you go. You embrace your life so completely. It is awesome to watch the exuberance you have for everything you do. You grab the opportunities life presents you! I still laugh when I think about you getting to sit up front at your very first Broadway show when we were in New York last spring. When the gentleman ask  if any of us wanted to use his extra ticket for a seat closer to the stage, you didn't hesitate to accept his kind offer. In my recollection, you said "I do," vaulted over the seats in front of us and were half-way down the aisle before I even registered what the man had said!  Opportunity knocks, and you swing the door wide open and say "what have you got for me today?" I love that about you!
      The first time you got on a two wheel bike, you just took off. No training wheels, no crashes, not even a wobble. Your dad was so tickled by this feat, that the next morning, he began his business meeting by telling everyone about your super bike riding skills!
      It is a joy to watch you perform on stage. It is clearly a place you feel comfortable and confident. You have such an amazing natural talent for theatre.
      You are a thoughtful brother to your siblings and make everything we do as a family much more fun. You are hysterically funny, and make us laugh a lot!
       You have creative ideas and creative solutions to problems. It is through your eyes that I see things for the first time again. What a gift that is to me! You are very smart and  have a wonderful stick-to-it-iveness, you work at something until you get it right. That is an example to all of us. You find joy and follow your passions. I feel like the luckiest girl in the world to have you for my son! We are blessed to have you as a part of our family!

We love you like crazy,
your adoring family

Baby girl's first day of school!

Baby girl started school this week. We thought school started Tuesday (I swear they said "see you Tuesday" as we left "meet the teacher" day), but it turns out, it started Monday. We were still sitting on the sofa in our pajamas, watching the Today Show, recovering from the exhaustion of getting the rest of the moppets out the door, when the phone rang. It was the preschool director wondering if baby girl was sick! Oops! Grabbing clothes from the floor that "smelled clean" and promising she could wear her first day of school outfit on her first full day of school, I rushed her over to her school. We were only an hour and 20 minutes late! Missing almost half of the school day didn't seem to take away from the fabulous-ness of her day. When she got home, she said that it was her "BEST FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL EVER!" (She actually screamed, "BESTFIRSTDAYOFSCHOOL, EVER"  three times before I finally was able to discern what came before the "ever".)

Yikes, we almost missed the first day of school!

I must explain the reason I was searching for clothes that smelled clean. Baby girl changes her clothes about 14 times a day. She has it in her mind that every "event" calls for a different outfit, and when you're four, almost everything you do is an "event"! She works hard to find the perfect ensemble for each occurrence (meaning, lots of the rejected items get dropped on the floor along-side the previously worn outfits). As she has not yet perfected folding and cannot reach the rod to hang her clothes back in the closet (although pulling the sleeve of a shirt until the hanger breaks or otherwise releases its grasp, doesn't seem to be a problem for her), most days end with a pile of clothes on her floor.

I am completely thrilled that she loves school. She has a blast, plus it's some much needed time away from mama! My darling husband calls baby girl my "mini me". As endearing as it sounds, in real life it means that she is attached to my side. All. The. Time. If I sit down, she races for my lap. When I make my lunch, she abandons hers and decides "we can share" mine. If I dare to go to the bathroom, she follows me, "so you won't have to be alone, Mama." We often share an afternoon coffee (my other children had tea parties-baby girl has Starbucks parties). More nights than not, she wanders in to our bed (where she promptly falls asleep with one leg draped over my middle-just in case I get the notion to get out of bed without her). She also tells me "Mama, I love you so much," about a hundred times a day and reaches to hold my hand "just because" almost as often. I absolutely adore her! She is my last baby, and I know that her desire to spend every moment of the day and night with me is fleeting (at least I hope it is-I don't want to think of her 16-year-old self climbing into my bed every night). But honestly, I truly don't need visitors in the bathroom (formerly known as alone time).

This was the first full day of school! Don't you love the gloves? She refused to take them off for the pictures (I guess she thought it was formal) then immediately doffed them in the car on the way to school-where I'm sure they still are!

So, thank you, sweet little preschool! Thank you for a safe, joyful, enriching environment, thank you for a happy baby girl and most of all, thank you for making it possible for me to go to the bathroom all by myself!

The End of Summer Vacation!

Congratulations team Vinyl! Their team pulled off a victory in the upcycling challenge! Thank you to everyone who voted, and to everyone who checked out the fabulousness, but didn't vote! Sorry team 5finger, your monkey was darling! (You may want to check on him though, I think I saw a stuffed teardrop on his cheek! Stuffed monkeys are quite sensitive!)

The moppets went back to school this week. I have such mixed emotions about their return to school, or rather their mass exodus from the cottage. There is so much excitement attached to the new school year, new clothes, new supplies, new teachers, new friends, and (for two of my children) new schools. My own internal calendar is synced with the school calendar. None of that New Year's resolution business for me, my yearly fresh start is triggered by the diesel fumes of the old yellow school bus!

With their return to school, comes the thrill of almost having my house to myself (my loving husband is working from home right now and my darling youngest child doesn't start preschool until next week!), but my appetite has certainly been whetted! Glimpses of the Today Show, almost getting to hear the snarky comments Matt Lauer makes under his breath, sitting down-it doesn't get much better than that!

On the other hand, I kind of miss my moppets! I know, I know, it's CRAZY! But, I truly enjoy my children (most of the time), and they make me laugh. I also haven't quite prepared myself for the onslaught of meetings, back-to-school nights, homework, bed time and schedules! And the forms! Good golly, I have writer's cramp from filling out all of the stinkin' school forms! I'm fed up with the forms!

     Dear Scrupulous School Officials,
            Whilst filling out one of the 118 school forms I've had to complete over the past four
     days, it has come to my attention that you neither realize, nor care, that all of my children have
     the same address, phone number, emergency contact information, persons authorized to pick them
     up from school, etc. I realize it boggles the mind, kind sirs and madams, but our children even have
     the same exact siblings today that I painstakingly listed on yesterday's forms (with their
     corresponding schools indicated in parentheses behind their names as requested). As you may or
     may not realize, if there was a change in siblings between yesterday and today, I would likely be
     filling out annoying hospital forms rather ridiculous, unbelievably redundant school forms.
          While I appreciate your complete lack of awareness of the aforementioned information, I would
     like you to know that I do not enjoy writing our home address three times on the same form, nor do
     I understand it. Might I suggest looking into a way to streamline the collection of this information
     and even store it for future use?
           Finally, I humbly propose a completely off-the-wall idea for your consideration. If you really
     need twenty-two copies of the same information, I've heard of a machine that makes copies of
     papers. It's hard to believe, but from what I understand, you can hardly tell the difference between
     the original page and the copies. (I know, it sounded like hocus pocus to me too, but it might be
     worth looking into.)  The only problem I can foresee is that you would have to decide on a
     standardized format for your forms rather than the twenty-two different versions you currently use.
           There, there, loving school officials, I understand, change makes us all a little nervous, but
     really, enough's enough!
       

     PS: Could you kindly return to me the 118 forms I filled out last year? I would like to recycle them.
     Thank you

I apologize for the rant, I am suffering from an acute case of form rage! I am off to find a cure-I think it is in the kitchen, and rhymes with boffee! Coffee? Toffee? Either way, I'm feeling better already!