Happy Endings

A year or more ago...honestly I don't know as time as no real measure now, my sister told me to write my story. I told her it doesn't have an ending yet.

At that point I was 38 years into a life that had been touched by juvenile chronic illness, baby death, parent death, special needs parenting, and trauma. 

I thought what final chapter am I looking for here? Little did I know the most surprising turn of events would happen shortly later and usurp any chance at a happy ending I would ever be able to have. Yep, the police pounding on my door on that beautiful night last spring nailed the coffin shut on a pretty final chapter. 

I felt my heart shivering and head longing to understand how my husband's taking his own life could not be the death of all of us left without him. I often say my husband died and went to heaven and he left me alive in hell. I no longer believe that to be true...most hours. I see life as tragic journey with multiple happy endings along the way.

In the last almost 9 months I have thought a lot about a happy ending. People say it isn't the beginning or the end the counts but the dash between the dates of our life. I don't agree. The beginning counts, the end counts. It all matters. The happy endings throughout the middle are what keep hope afloat however.

I don't know a lot about a lot at the moment. I am in survival mode and likely always will be to some degree.  But happy endings along the way have propelled me to this point and have been instrumental in helping my living children and I not sink. Some of those happy things are more like sentences to the book of life: Teddy meeting his buddy Mickey Mouse or getting a perfectly timed text from a friend. Seeing Henry play a perfect baseball game. Hearing Amelie sing like an angel from the backseat of the van. Some feel more like paragraphs like the alarm going off Dustin's phone in the moments I need him the most or seeing a rainbow at the exact time and date of the month anniversary of his death. Then there are the chapters, like finding love again in the least expected of places. These are all happy endings. Big and small. They are important and essential in human survival on this crummy earth. 

Nope, I no longer expect some grand final happy ending, at least not on this side of eternity.
Those whom I love died. 

Those whom I love will die. 

I will die. 

All of it is awful. 

Death is awful always. 

My deeper understanding of life's fragility increased the happy endings I experience and by default has made more joy in the journey.

The end...for now.

Happy and Honest

It is with deep guilt I acknowledge an emotion I don't think I deserve to feel especially this soon in the game but it is what I am feeling, happy.

After Dustin died I prayed and prayed for God to send me love again. I naively thought it would be perfectly fitting and socially acceptable grief time frame of at least over 1 year mark, preferably 7 years since that seems to be the timing others actually are worried about you moving forward. Careful what you pray for right?!

....So I wrote the above a while back and went to finish this blog post and surprised myself to find that I have changed how I view my life to date.  I do indeed NOT FEEL GUILTY because I am indeed not replacing Dustin any more than Teddy was a replacement for Claudie. It isn't Teddy's job to make me feel better after the death of his sister. Teddy's mere presence does however create healing.

Dustin's love was complete and full enough to last me until the end of my days. I do not need a substitute for him. In fact, I do not even WANT a substitute for him. There is NO SUBSTITUTE FOR HIM! But what I never excepted to miss so much was companionship. You create a life of communicating the mundane and trivial and it makes you feel connected. I am so blessed to have found someone who understands this on a very core level since they are a widower.

And the same goes for my children. Although, I don't know that it needs to be stated I will state it because I felt it needed to be stated when my dad move forward after my mom dying: there is no substitute for my children's father. He was enough for them! Just as I need companionship my children find value in a male playing legos with them and listening to their stories. My children are happy for this. This makes me the happiest because I am seeing that they do not have guilt they just take life for what is was given to them and are living this cruddy life the best way they know how. Once again my kids teach more than I could ever teach them.

I am realizing life is weirder and harder than I could ever imagine. I realize that judgement will come from those who do not understand moving forward at 7 months. (Do not worry I gave myself way more judgement than you could ever dish at me. ) I realize life will continue to be harder than hard and I will never be "healed". But I also know as long as I am honest with myself and my grief that life can be more beautiful than I could ever imagine.

The funny thing is I want to share this happy news with Dustin most of all and know he would be most happy for me of anyone.

The End of And

As of 6:10pm it makes 12 weeks since there was last an "&". 

Dustin & Alyvia

We were pretty great together huh?

You completed me. You saw me.

It's scary to think I have to live the rest without being seen. Being loved so fully and completely as you did me.

I am desperately lonely without you.

Someone posted on my FB post that is nice to see you me "moving on". Not sure how they would gather I am moving on from a post about running. Truth is I will never move on. You are apart of my every future breathe and nothing can change that.

I am trying to move forward however. I have no choice. The kids need a childhood.  I have to make a conscious choice every second of every day to keep my mind intact so that can happen.  But it's more than surviving for the kids.

A young widow asked what is a widow's purpose for going on. 80+ comments and everyone said their kids. The young widow then commented, "but we didn't get a chance to have kids, so what's my purpose?"

I thought and thought about that because frankly I was about to respond that the kids were my purpose too. But no person can be another's person purpose for living. You were my purpose and now your gone and I am here. Your death can't be the death of me too...although frequently I wish it was.

I must make conscious choices to live the fullest life I can not only for your honor but because I am child of God that alone makes me enough. Most moments living the fullest is simply doing the next right thing and most moments that is VERY hard.

Five Minutes

Five minutes.  That is all could have taken to save my husband's life.

Sunday April 14, 2019 was a gorgeous day. The first warm and beautiful day after the longest winter I can remember. The kind of day in which the air invigorates and makes the hopes of summer circulate.

I was outside planting a tree to replace the one that died in honor of our stillborn daughter, Claudie. Dustin my 39 year old husband came outside with his briefcase and declared with a worried look on his face that he just couldn't finish a project he was working on. He had been working long, long days for over a week. This was not unusual especially this time of the year. He was a traffic engineer and worked for a private firm that when construction season came around it was usual for him to work round the clock to finish up projects. After 12 years of marriage and 25 years of knowing him, I knew better at this point then trying to lecture him on the effects of working such long hours or spending time with us instead of working all night again for a big project due Monday morning. Instead, I don't even look up at him. I just say "hurry back to us" and assume he is going to the office to work. I continue to dig a hole. Dustin mumbles something about he will come back as soon as he can. To lock the side gate. And he loves me. He ignores the kids who were excitedly planting each herb they had picked out. I don't respond. I don't care. I will see him soon enough. I think it's 5o'clock-ish.

 6:09pm I get a text that said "Love you all so much, so sorry."

No explanation point. No explanation.

I respond "sorry for what??" and send him a cute pic of our 10 yo, 9 yo, and 4 yo who had just celebrated his birthday two days previous playing in the yard, thinking he was apologizing for pulling another all-nighter. He didn't respond.

6:10pm 911 operators start getting calls that "a man  fell from the overpass on K10 and 435." The highest point of the overpass. Over 60 ft. To gravel below. The overpass that HE designed a couple years previous. Notice I don't say jump. No one sees him jump. This combined with this being his old job site produce confusion and questions making it impossible to grieve fully. We still to this day don't have a death certificate as the coroner's case is still pending.

It would take over two hours for the police notify me of his death. I would live two hours in oblivion. Putting kids to bed and wondering why my husband didn't answer our son's calls to him at 7:16pm or respond to more texts of the kids cutely sitting on the couch.

Close to 9pm the kids were asleep...or at least quiet.  I would find out later they were awake and heard everything. I was sitting down to relax with an artisan beer I got for Dustin thinking he would enjoy the flavor but secretly excited I could enjoy a pineapple flavored beer. I turned on Keeping up with Kardashians. Why not? I could pick my tv show tonight.

Pounding on the door startles me and I start to call Dustin to say someone is trying to break in. My hands shake. The pounding gets louder. I think what could Dustin do to protect from all the way in Lenexa. I had just checked in with GPS finder and saw he was at his old job site. I thought he was going there to evaluate something for his new job site in St. Louis. Maybe he was. We will never know.  I switch from dialing Dustin's number to dialing 911 and start running upstairs to hide with the kids. As I pass the door I see the police.

...and I know. I don't know how I know or why I know but I know. My mind jumped out of my body and watched from above. They won't stop saying the same thing over and over. I have to call someone to come be with me. Why?? How?? What do I tell his family? What do I tell my family? What do I tell our kids!!?? I call him instead. He doesn't answer.

The next few hours and days and weeks have been a blur filled with details I will spare you and leave the PTSD to me and therapist.

I reason I do share all these details with you is this: Dustin was not "depressed". He was not "suicidal". He was happy and looking to the future. He was planning projects on the home. Had a date planned the following Thursday with me. Shoes delivered in the mail the next day. He had just bought a new truck he had wanting for over a decade. We were planning a trip to Disney in the coming weeks. He was a deacon at our church and loved God. He loved us fiercely and was a son, brother, husband and dad who had enormous pride in all those roles. He was excited about growing old with me and voiced it regularly.

While we never know the details leading up the last minutes of Dustin's life I do know as someone has teetered on the edge, despair mixed with opportunity is fatal. Dustin was overworked, under slept and extremely anxious about a project for work. This perhaps created a perfect storm for that fatal act.  The NY Times released an opinion piece the month Dustin died that states studies show it takes under 5 minutes for someone to get to that point of despair. https://www.nytimes.com/2019/04/26/opinion/sunday/suicide-prevention.html

So I share this tragic story of a man who won't see his 40 birthday, or watch his son lose his first tooth or start kindergarten or go to any father/daughter dances or see his oldest son pitch his first baseball game this Friday, because if it takes under 5 minutes to get to despair maybe it takes under five minutes to crawl out. Experts on brain/body connections states most thoughts last for under 90 seconds. They suggest feeling that emotion but letting yourself know it will pass.  I would give anything to go back and tell my husband this: give yourself 5 minutes. Set your timer on your phone! Chances are despair will fade and hope will rise in the distance.  

If you are a human I would bet that you have been close to or even hit despair. A wise friend and psychologist told me after losing Dustin "despair is the devil".  Despair combined with opportunity is death. So please when the next time despair comes knocking answer it's evilness with time. Give yourself 5 minutes ideally more time but even 1 minute and wait then another minute and wait then another and another. Call a friend if you are able. Going to a public place can also help replace those thoughts with reality. A friend of mine who is struggles with thoughts of despair has said saying her thoughts aloud helps ground her and realized how ridiculous it is to think the world is better off without her in it.

And if there is one thing I know the world is NOT BETTER OFF WITHOUT YOU!

Dustin Lee Elliott 2/19/1980-4/14/2019

Widow Maker

You made me your wife.
You made me your widow.

I was told today to spend two minutes writing what widow means to me from my "widow coach". Yep, I have one of those now that's how weird you made my life.

Widow means old.

Widow means broke.

Widow means lonely.

Widow means...I don't know. Truthfully, I haven't given it much thought prior to 8 weeks ago but now I know it doesn't mean old.  I am 38 years old...and you made me a widow. Why would you do that to me, especially when you worked so hard to make me your wife?

Maybe I thought widow meant hopeless. I am trying to be honest with myself and stick to the things I know and not speculate on the details of the things I will likely never know. One of those things I know is you want me to HOPE for hope is not clinging to what you wish will be but knowing IT WILL BE!

There is no title

I can't type a title for what I am about to update this blog with.

There is no easy way to say this or trite statement to sum up what has happened since I last wrote a blog post.

For those of you who are new to this page I will update a brief synopsis of the tragedies in which are now my reality.

In August 2011 we miscarried identical twins.
In May 2012 we lost my mom Claudette to a rare autoimmune disease.
In November 2012 we lost our daughter Claudette to an enlarged heart. Turns out Claudette means "dies young". Irony at its worse I suppose.
In June of last year we lost Dustin's brother, George Travis.

6 weeks ago Sunday...two days after we celebrated the 4th birthday of our youngest child, we lost "we". Dustin my husband of 12 years and my first love since we were teenagers died by falling 60 feet from a bridge in which he played a huge part in creating as a traffic engineer. He had just turned 39 years old.

I don't have much more to say than just that. I am sure you have lots of questions. I have lots of questions. The coroner and the detective assigned are trying to put together pieces of what happened and we hope to have an official cause of death soon but it will likely read "undetermined". There are just pieces of a puzzle we will never fully know. I don't how to process it or how to help our three small children process it, who have all already gone through more than any child ever should. We are still in shock and are grateful for that shock because in the moments the swelling lessons, which are coming more and more frequent, it literally takes our breathe away with its raw reality.

Dustin was a rock to everyone who knew him. To not have him on this already very difficult journey on earth with me feels like hell.  I hold on the to fact that he is in heaven and we will be reunited one day. Until then I will try to give my children the best version of a childhood they can have.

We appreciate all of those who have helped us thus far in too many ways to count. While I simply couldn't thank every person who has done something for us to hold us up physically, emotionally, spiritually and financially each act has meant more than words could express.  Please continue to do so because we will need you all in so many ways for the rest of our lives.

If you feel led to help us keep our insurance in the form of Cobra or could share our story so other's might that would mean so much to us! You can do so by clicking here: Help a Grieving Family Keep Their Health Insurance .
But really the most important thing you can do for us is PRAY. Pray for peace for the kids and myself. Pray for sleep especially for the kids. Pray for understanding and acceptance for all of us affected by the tragic death of a man whom I never dreamed living a day of the rest of my life without.

Preaching to the Choir

It is natural to like to be surrounded by those who have the same views as you, look the same as you, and reinforce your beliefs. Heck, no one wants to be constantly antagonized for a differing opinion. When other's opinions differ from our own, we have a choices: to ignore the opinion and move on, to fight back with our own opinion or to try to engage in active listening.

I know for a fact I am awful at the latter.

I like to preach to the choir. I like to get likes on my  wise and relevant FB posts. I like to hear back from my other 30 something year old Christian Caucasian women friends that I am speaking truth. It makes me feel safe. Like I am not alone. 

When I hear a voice of dissent from what I believe I sometimes tune them out by hiding them from my news feed, maybe even defriending or blocking them. 

Think about that for a second....

What a strange little world we live in now were we actually have words like "defriend".

But what if I started to ask and actually wanted to HEAR the words from others different from ourselves, rather than just preparing my super wise response back that is sure to get them to humble themselves and follow me...Oh wait! I am supposed to humble MYSELF and FOLLOW HIM, not get others to humble themselves and follow me on FB, instagram, pinterest, twitter??!  

Dan Rather said something that I think is so powerful. I am summarizing but essentially a YUGE (in the words of our president) crowd gathered to see Trump win. A HUGE crowd also gathered to protest Trump. Instead of comparing whose crowd was bigger, realize that there are millions of us who CARE and are all trying to be heard. 

In other words: LISTEN!

Let's build off this passion to achieve our goals. As far as I can tell most times when I actually LISTEN to others I hear them say essentially the same things I am saying. 

Of course there is always those who are driven by fear and hate and nothing is going to change that except the grace of God but our job is to be the best version of ourselves and cleaning out my FB friend list until I only see statuses that another white, 30 something year old, Christian woman would write does nothing to make me a better version of myself it is just further preaching to the choir and I need to hear some different voices to be the best version of me. 

So, I get it sometimes you need a break.
You need to hide someone from your feed.
You need to leave social media for a time or forever but PLEASE stop shutting out those voices completely out of your life that make you uncomfortable or uneasy.  
The voices that make our stomachs turn are often the same voices that help our minds open and our hearts widen. 

Eye of the Storm

I recently took a job as a school nurse at my kid's elementary school. One of my job duties is to ensure everyone is safe in a tornado. We had a drill recently and I couldn't help be left with the huge responsibility I have to ensure the safety of not only my own child but 100s of other little beings.
Since that drill I continue to have a nightmare wherein I can see a tornado coming from a mile or so away from the front door of the school.
I go running back inside and scream, "tornado, tornado!! Everyone run downstairs!" Then I wake up with guilt of thinking that is exactly what not to do when trying to keep kids safe in the eye of a storm. If you live in the Midwest you know it's not a matter of IF but WHEN you or those close to you will be affected by a tornado.

When I have this nightmare the following emotions happen:
Fear.
Lack of control.
Anxiety.
Sadness.
Worry.

I realized something today. These emotions are not going away when I wake up.
The political climate has brewed a perfect storm for a tornado and I feel like I watching it in the near distance. Right now it is affecting my neighbors. I see them wrapped unwilling in its damaging winds. I see debris being spit out toward others and I see it headed straight for me. For my child. For the children I vow to protect. For all of us.

In my dream I keep choosing to scream and run for sure that the tornado will hit us all and there is nothing we can do. But in reality there is time. I have a choice. No matter what happens with this tornado I have choices:
A. I can act like the tornado isn't there and continue to go on my life as normal.
B. I can run back inside screaming and create further chaos in hopes that it will make everyone so fearful they will run and hide quickly too.
C. I can do what has been proven to be the safest in tornados: plan ahead, have a plan that works the best for the situation and calmly guide others to safety and then use yourself as a blanket over the last few coming to safety so the least impact of the storm can hit them.

I know this seems melodramatic folks, but we are in a tornado America and it's affecting the world. We all should feel the not so settle breeze and hear the train in the distance by now. If you choose to ignore this then you are letter A and well maybe you be the miraculous person who survives but the rest of your world will be crushed around you so there simply isn't a way you will not be affected.
From what I can tell most of us letter B. It's a natural reaction but it doesn't work and has been found to cause further damage.
What I am striving to be is letter C. I want to be armed with facts and knowledge which will help subside fear and the bitterness that is sure to follow that fear. I want to be a soldier of Christ ready to fight in His army.  I want my anxiety to turn into action. When I feel my stomach turning for the things I can't control, I want Christ's love to shine through me so much that it can't help but pour out onto those who I may not know or understand because I know and understand this: we are ALL made in the image of God.

So I didn't tell you the end of my dream. The tornado doesn't hit our school. It ends up hitting a school up the street. I end losing my job because I used my energy creating more chaos than solutions. If I would have taken two minutes to read the weather reports I would have realized the tornado was headed east and we could have taken those students, our neighbors, that were in its direct path into our school and saved all their lives. Yes, I know this makes no sense in real life, but it's a dream people and perhaps dreams are the Holy Spirit's ways of speaking to our soul.

Four

It has been a long while since I blogged. Not because I don't have anything to say, but because I have too much to say.

But for your 4th birthday, I thought I would update you on the world in which you escaped. 

It's a scary world little girl. I am thankful for your safe heavenly cradle, but I still selfishly ache for my empty arms.

Your little brother is now 19 months. He is a bucket of energy and keeps us on our toes. As soon as he was born I felt complete as a birth mommy and decided I was content with a closed for business sign on my womb. But we still long to foster and/or adopt one day. We would like to start that process more formally after Teddy turns two. 

Your big brother is now 8. He is amazing and challenges me daily to be more patient and understanding. He struggles a lot with fears and obstacles that most of us take for granted. I still long for him to learn a ride a bike. I have to admit it embarrasses me he can't. But then I realize it doesn't embarrass him. He is confident in who he is and often tells people "I have Asperger's syndrome, so I am overwhelmed by this situation." Hiss vulnerability and insight is inspiring. I'm so proud of him.

You could say if Henry is my pride, then Amelie is my joy. Her 7 year old personality is infectious and fun. She lives in a dream world I wish I could escape with her to. She is also insanely creative and feels every thing around her as if it is happening to her personally. That sensitivity has caused some anxiety and she longs for you more than I can express. Because of this she has become obsessed with the animal we decorated your room with, elephants. She surrounds herself with them and every time she sees one on a picture or in real life she screams, "CLAUDIE!" as if it's the first time she has saw you.

Oh sweet little girl, how I miss you. They say time heals all wounds but this wound will never heal. It scabbed for a while and would often rip open and bleed in the first couple years. By year 3 it turned more into a bruise.While I still feel bruised at times especially when my wound bumps up against the insensitivity of others, the memory of you is mainly a scar now.  A scar that is a constant reminder of the little girl who fits so perfectly in our hearts but will never live in our home. 

I would rather be running around doing errands for your birthday, but I will settle for more Kisses for 

Claudie in your honor this year and hope you will continue to inspire others as you have me to be a better version of myself and perform random acts of kindness in your honor.

Love always and forever.

See ya soon,

Mommy

The Day I Told My Son He Has Asperger's

This weekend Henry was a having another "melt-down". This time it was because...hum honestly, I can't remember. It could have been because his legs itched or the smells were too pungent or his belly felt weird or he didn't like the way his shoe felt. Heck, it could have been the way the wind blew.
I really never know when Henry will be overwhelmed by seemingly tiny issues. In fact, they don't happen that often and some people who are very close to him have NEVER even seen a melt down once.

But this melt-down I saw something in Henry's eyes. He was searching. He knew it wasn't about the discomfort but something more.

I remember my first question for his therapist after finding out he most likely has it was do I tell him?
Her response, "Did your parents tell you had diabetes?"

I looked to my husband, "I am going to tell him!"
My husband said, "okay" maybe because he knew recognized the seriousness in my voice or maybe because he too realized Henry needed an answer finally to his question that he didn't even know he was asking. We had discussed telling Henry dozens of times before and every time Dustin's response was not yet. I think both knew it was time now.

I said Henry, "Stop! I need to talk to you."
Henry immediately stopped his shaking and whining and looked my direction although of course not in my eyes. I know better now then to ask him to do that. Looking in my eyes only makes he more distracted and overwhelmed.

"Henry, we think you might have something called Asperger's. It's not a bad thing. It's just something that makes you think differently. A lot of really cool people have it. [I am paraphrasing now because I can't remember what I said and frankly at this point I am wondering why in the heck I am doing this in a restaurant rather than a controlled environment without a thought-out game plan. Then I realize because there is NO such thing as a thought-out game plan when you tell your kid this and because Henry needs an answer now.]
...You are really cool Henry. You know more about Russia then most adults. You study baseball better than most professional players and you have a ton to offer the world. We all just need to learn how to access your brain better so we can see all your mind and heart has to offer!"

Silence.

Henry stares off into the distance. He says nothing.

Then a little squeaky voice of a six year old that I forget was listening chimes in, "I am kinda sad for Henry. But I am also really glad too because he is going to have a wonderful new life!" Tears are in her eyes.

Oh no, I canNOT see my kids cry. I start to well up with tears. This is when it is nice that Henry won't look in my eyes.

"Henry," I say, my voice cracking, "do you understand what I am trying to say, buddy?"

"Ya. I know."

"You know what?"

"I know I have it. Why else would I not like going down a slide or stickers or wasps when I love animals all the things that make me scared. I already knew."

"Well, now we can have a word for it and it can help us all help you be the best version of yourself!"

The squeaky voice again, "Do I have it, mom?"

"No, Amelie. But I want you to be the best version of yourself too!"

My anxiety lessened at that moment because I realized that is my job for ALL my children. It doesn't lessen that I might have to find more creative ways and work a little harder. And it WILL be harder. Like two days later on the 4th when he screamed bloody murder and shook during the fireworks but wouldn't go inside because he still wanted to watch them and wouldn't wear earplugs or doing anything that I suggested, so I just held him and whispered over and over and over, you will be okay, you will be okay, you will be okay. But the fact remains whether it's Henry's quirks or Amelie's spunk or Teddy's tenacity my job as their parent is to make them the best versions of themselves and frankly they do a pretty good job of making me be the best version of myself.

The Day I Told My Son He Has Asperger's

This weekend Henry was a having another "melt-down". This time it was because...hum honestly, I can't remember. It could have been because his legs itched or the smells were to pungent or his belly felt weird or he didn't like the way his shoe felt. Heck, it could have been the way the wind blew.
I really never know when Henry will be overwhelmed by seemingly tiny issues. In fact, they don't happen that often and some people who are very close to him have NEVER even seen a melt down once.

But this melt-down I saw something in Henry's eyes. He was searching. He knew it wasn't about the discomfort but something more.

I remember my first question for his therapist after finding out he most likely has it was do I tell him?
Her response, "Did your parents tell you that you had diabetes?"

I looked to my husband, "I am going to tell him!"
My husband said, "okay" maybe because he knew recognized the seriousness in my voice or maybe because he too realized Henry needed an answer finally to his question that he didn't even know he was asking. We had discussed telling Henry dozens of times before and every time Dustin's response was not yet. I think both knew it was time now.

I said Henry, "Stop! I need to talk to you."
Henry immediately stopped his shaking and whining and looked my direction although of course not in my eyes. I know better now then to ask him to do that. Looking in my eyes only makes he more distracted and overwhelmed.

"Henry, we think you might have something called Asperger's. It's not a bad thing. It's just something that makes you think differently. A lot of really cool people have it. [I am paraphrasing now because I can't remember what I said and frankly at this point I am wondering why in the heck I am doing this in a restaurant rather than a controlled environment without a thought-out game plan. Then I realize because there is NO such thing as a thought-out game plan when you tell your kid this and because Henry needs an answer now.]
...You are really cool Henry. You know more about Russia then most adults. You study baseball better than most professional players and you have a ton to offer the world. We all just need to learn how to access your brain better so we can see all your mind and heart has to offer!"

Silence.

Henry stares off into the distance. He says nothing.

Then a little squeaky voice of a six year old that I forget was listening chimes in, "I am kinda sad for Henry. But I am also really glad too because he is going to have a wonderful new life!" Tears are in her eyes.

Oh no, I canNOT see my kids cry. I start to well up with tears. This is when it is nice that Henry won't look in my eyes.

"Henry," I say, my voice cracking, "do you understand what I am trying to say, buddy?"

"Ya. I know."

"You know what?"

"I know I have it. Why else would I not like going down a slide or stickers or wasps when I love animals all the things that make me scared. I already knew."

"Well, now we can have a word for it and it can help us all help you be the best version of yourself!"

The squeaky voice again, "Do I have it, mom?"

"No, Amelie. But I want you to be the best version of yourself too!"

My anxiety lessened at that moment because I realized that is my job for ALL my children. It doesn't lessen that I might have to find more creative ways and work a little harder. And it WILL be harder. Like two days later on the 4th when he screamed bloody murder and shook during the fireworks but wouldn't go inside because he still wanted to watch them and wouldn't wear earplugs or doing anything that I suggested, so I just held him and whispered over and over and over, you will be okay, you will be okay, you will be okay. But the fact remains whether it's Henry's quirks or Amelie's spunk or Teddy's tenacity my job as their parent is to make them the best versions of themselves and frankly they do a pretty good job of making me be the best version of myself.

July 6, 2016

It has been a while.  A long while since I updated the blog. I am sure you all are crazy-bored without its banter and insight in your lives.
...no?!
Okay, well then I will just updated for the benefit of my own boredom.

We are deep into the throws of summer about now. Over 1/2 way through 2016 already.
July 4th was this weekend and it is always a pleasant reminder that while the world spins round and round nothing changes really.  There is a sense of unity in that we all still love to eat ice cream and blow things up in celebration.

Yes, this year has been perhaps the embarrassing for us as a nation, but I have a feeling the present will pale in comparison to the years to come. But I am not going to get into that today. I don't have it in me. Not today.

Today, I am just feeling tired and insufficient. So I am going to hang on to hope with a death-grip because I have witnessed firsthand that it doesn't matter how much darkness surrounds you, God is bright enough to be a light you when you can't see. But I also know God uses us to be that light while we are this earth, so tomorrow...tomorrow I will search to fix the injustice's of the world.

Dear Claudie

Dear Claudie,
I'm sorry. You didn't deserve what happened to you
You were young and fragile. You were supposed to be protected in my womb, but my body portrayed me and you paid the price.
My job was to protect you and I couldn't. Or didn't. I am not sure anymore.
Where are you now?
Who are you now?
Do you think of me as much as I think of you?
I will see  you soon. Until then keep inspiring me to be the best version of a mommy I can be.
Love,
Mommy

2015: The Elliott Family

I hate addressing cards and sending them. Most times I don't finish them until months later. I am horrible at it. But I am going to make myself feel better and say I am helping out the environment by sending a digital Christmas Letter this year. So here goes...

2015 was incredible year for our family.

I unfortunately had to spend a good part of the beginning of it in/out of the hospital and high risk doc's visits, but it TOTALLY was worth every second when Theodore Lee Elliott graced this earth with his presence on April 12. He was perfect in every way and has brought joy that is indescribable to our family. 

We were able to do a lot of traveling this Summer, including an epic trip when we packed up all the kids including 9 week old Teddy and my niece AKA baby whisperer, Marya, and traveled over 2000 miles total to Disneyland in July. Teddy did incredible in the car and the rest of us heard 999 of the 1000 jokes out of Henry's joke book he decided to read to us. I will be happy if I never hear another knock-knock joke again. It was a magical time and we are so happy we were lucky enough to do it.

We have committed to traveling WAY more as a family and are planning our trip for this summer. Henry wants Banff, Canada. Amelie wants Branson. The cheese making  factory on the way down was enough to inspire a life time of return visits for her.  This pretty much sums up their personalities.


In August Amelie started kindergarten at the same french immersion school Henry attends. She ADORES it and speaks and especially sings french very well already. Henry is thriving as a 1st grader and excels at math and English skills the most. As his teacher says he is an old, wise soul in the body of a seven year old.

The both get on the bus everyday except on days that I sub as the school nurse, then mommy gets to go to school with them. They love having me there.

As if our home town couldn't get better, Kansas City celebrated a  ROYAL win as WORLD SERIES CHAMPS! We joined over 3/4 a million of our closest friends and went to the parade downtown. 

Our beloved city continues to be lit up in blue and we love it!

In November just days before the third anniversary of Claudie's death, we had to put down our beloved black lab/border collie mix, Faith. It was extremely hard for all of us. Hattie (our 3 year old shih tzu dog) is taking it most hard losing her big sis.

Thankfully, the Shermans (my sister Audra's family), the Groners (my sister Allyson and her family) and my brother John and niece Renee came for Thanksgiving and were able to give our family a much needed fun distraction.

Dustin continues work very hard at his engineering job wherein he takes lead on the Gateway Project. So if you are frustrated by roadwork you can take it up with him. He diligently provides for our family while balancing home life. His company is so happy to have him...and so are we!

The holiday season has been packed with pageants and festivities. Amelie and I were able to attend The Nutcracker from the KC Ballet. It was so special. 

Santa visits were interesting this year in which Henry decided to go rogue. His original plan was to ask for a nintendo DS but once he say Santa he decided to ask for a St. Bernard puppy. (NO WE ARE GIVING HIM ONE! And if you think it's a good idea the dog can stay at your home). 

Teddy is LOVING discovering Christmas. The lights and sounds and especially the trains at Union Station are his favorite.

Overall, 2015 has been a great one. We are so blessed to have each and every one of your in our lives and hearts.

Love,
The Elliotts
Dustin, Alyvia, Henry 7, Amelie 6, and Theodore 8 months

Three years later: WE FORGOT

We made a promise to these first graders to not forget...

I told myself as I sat on my couch watching on the TV the horrific coverage weeks after burying my own daughter, I would never forget. But we have forgotten. We have forgotten the innocent faces of little first graders forced to die in fear at the hands of a coward hiding behind an assault rifle.

We have forgotten the 100s of lives that have since met similar fate and will continue to meet similar fate.
Rhetoric and political agenda has made us forget that goal for innocent lives to be saved!

Shame on us for not pouring ourselves into research to provided data on prevention like we do on other matters like drunk-driving, drug-overdosed, and SIDS.
Instead, the fear paralyzes us from doing anything that would promote any real change.
But do me a favor: look into the eyes in the picture above. Imagine they are your first grader, your brother/sister, your nephew/niece, grandchild. Imagine they are the little child's voice you hear playing outside every evening when you arrive home from work.

Here are some tweets shortly after Sandy Hook from parents:

Picking up my 9YO from school today was shockingly hard. Sadness, anger, and also reason, screaming for us to talk about #GunControlNow

I can't believe anyone believes the solution to this problem is more guns. I'm going to enjoy my weekend w/my kid & hope common sense wins.

7yo: "It should be impossible for people to get guns." No kidding.

Please, I know several of your first reactions are going to be to dismiss those tweets for various reasons and some of those reasons might be valid. But please answer why does a human being need to own an assault rifle? Sure there might be reasons for handguns for personal protection, and rifles for hunting but an assault rifle??!! And sure people can still use any gun or a knife or a stick for that matter to kill someone. But, aside from a bomb, an assault rifle is the only other single thing used to others so quickly.

And for those of you who continually state, it's a HEART problem, not a gun problem. I urge you to think first of the logic of that. . It's also a heart problem to drink and drive. We have laws against that. Should we do away with them? It's also a heart problem to rape someone. Welp, if someone wants to rape someone they will. So let's do away with that law too. Of course it's a heart problem, OUR HEART problem. EVERY SIN IS A HEART PROBLEM. BUT THE ONLY HEART WE HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT IS OUR OWN AND FRANKLY MY HEART CAN HANDLE ANOTHER INNOCENT PERSON DYING NEEDLESSLY!

For those of you who want to create positive change there are some things you can do to support it:
This is a great group similar to M.A.D.D. on FB that does walks and lots of other great things to promote awareness and research as well on info on what politicians are doing and what they are not doing to help the cause: https://www.facebook.com/MomsDemandAction/?fref=ts

This is another great site for Sandy Hook victims that helps us keep our promise: https://www.facebook.com/SandyHookPromise/?fref=nf&pnref=story

And for all the hateful responses I have gotten on the past on this topic and the ones I am soon to get in the future, I will reiterate: It IS a heart issue...your heart and MINE and I am only responsible for mines, so I will not engage in futile debates.

Stop Saying, "I will pray for you."

Okay, so the title might be a bit misleading. I am not going to stop saying, "I will pray for you" ever again, but I am going to try to say it less and do more.


I mean I know I am not alone here. If someone post on FB a need or hurt in their lives and we say, "I will pray for you."


If you are like me you either :
1. stop what you are doing and immediately say a quick prayer.
2. Add them to a mental prayer list and hope that their status comes up in your feed later when you are less busy so you can pray then.
Or 3. Simply forget to pray completely for them after you have said you would. Too bad I am not catholic cuz I sure could use some "hail Mary's" for how many times I have done that one.


Don't get me wrong prayer is VERY important, powerful and life-changing. I am writing this as my infant son, who I believe is here directly as a result of tons of prayers from some of you and myself, lays napping next to me. Read my FB, I obviously pray and believe in prayers and think they are very important. Heck, my cousin's 6 month old son is recovering from open heart today and needs tons of prayers and I have pleaded for them from my FB praying family, because what a better platform for prayer request.


But while it is fine and GOOD to pray for one another as Christians, isn't that a given. When someone reaches us out to us, shouldn't we be the hands and feet of Christ and not just the often empty words.


Let me give you an example. My mom is deceased and I don't want to throw her under the bus but I think she changed so much as she came closer to her death bed that she would appreciate me telling this.


My mom was a super mom. Like really incredible mom of 8 kids, had a horrible case of Rheumatoid Arthritis that left her in excruciating pain most of her life but still did it all seemingly seamlessly, including make all 3 meals a day by scratch, homeschooling us kids and most of our life nannied for other children full time. Enough said.


When I was in younger another woman in our church reached out to my mom and asked for help on how she seemed to have it all together. My mom's response was to push it off in embarrassment.


My brother said, "mom, you should go to her and help her! That is what she asking!"
My mom's response back was, "Oh I can't help her. I will pray for her."


But my brother was right! Yes, my mom was right to pray for her, but what she needed and what could have answered HER prayers was to HELP her. My mom could help her. While she saw it as embarrassment to be seen as a mom who had it together when she thought she didn't, that vulnerability would have been very helpful to this other mom in crisis.


I mean it's silly if we think about it right? If we were in a boat drowning and looked at person in the big ship and said "HELP!" We want them to throw a life-jacket, not scream back to us, "I will pray for you!"


Well, friends I am here to tell you, your friends are screaming HELP! Some of these of friends may even be atheist. Saying, I will pray for you when you can do tangible things that actually help them isn't being Christ like. In fact, it feels a bit like a cop-out.
Okay, I said I was praying for you, you know I care.
Check.
Think of how loving that really is, especially to someone who doesn't believe there is anyone out there actually listening to your prayers. I am not saying to not pray, but what I am saying is to DO!


We tend to talk and quote verses and do a lot of rhetoric as Christians. But when you read the bible, there isn't that much in red when you really think about it. Maybe, I am reading my bible incorrectly, but I just don't see the verse where people struggling with sin and life are met with I will pray for you.  Of course, he does go to God on our behalf, but his tangible ACTIONS are how we see that HE is the son of GOD!


If we are striving to be like sons and daughters of God, then I urge you to think differently the next time someone says I am having a bad day. Instead of I am praying for you, maybe ask why their day bad. Or maybe buy them lunch. Or send them a card. Yes, we can even do this over FB for people we have never met in real life. I say this as someone who has recipient of such love over the last 3 years. In fact, this blog post was inspired by others who have taught me when someone's mom dies you GO to the funeral. YES, even if you didn't know her mom. And when someone says, they aren't feeling well you have pizza hut delivered to their door for the kids and husband that are feeling well. Simple things like just inboxing a friend a word of encouragement when they post publicly a struggle can CHANGE LIVES PEOPLE!


My pastor said something Sunday that keeps resonating this week, Paul would be ashamed of us for being Sunday to Sunday Christians. You know what I mean. You come to church and then you say see you next Sunday, have a nice week. Or maybe see you Wednesday if you are a really good Christian. Yes, I know life is different 2000+ years later. We all can't walk the road to Damascus and check on our brothern everyday. But, in some ways it's easier. We all have text and FB and tons of ways to communicate and regularly encourage and love on each other as a COMMUNITY OF CHRIST.


I am rambling now but my point is maybe, just maybe I can do MORE than pray next time. I know I am going to try.

Just Show UP

A few weeks ago on a daily conversation to my sister  she informed of this new plan she had to just show up for things. Like you know everyone of her three kids thirty birthday parties a year they are invited to, all the extracurricular things at her church, school and social calender while working full time AND going to school for her MBA.

I promptly told her she was crazy.

See my husband and I decided exactly the opposite after Claudie died. We were over-committed. We decided both directly and indirectly to hide from the cruel world within the comfort of our home with Netflix and take out.

But then on another call to my sister a few days later she told me an incredible story. That weekend they were incredibly busy and made a point to take their daughter to her kindergartener classmate's bday party. It was the beginning of September and they didn't even know this little girl yet. But they made every effort to go Saturday, only to find out it was the following day. Tempted to give up, my sister decided to follow through on her goal of showing up and went Sunday. Upon arriving to the park, my sister wanted to turn the car around. No other kids were there. It was mainly what appeared to be aunts and uncles and grandparents. The little girl and others were so excited about my niece's presence that there was no turning back however. My sister quickly noticed there was a solemn overtone to the event. Then the birthday girl announced I wished my daddy was here.  The grandma seeing my sister was confused said her son, the birthday girl's daddy, had been killed in a car wreck over the summer. This was there first celebration since. My sister showed up. In turn her daughter showed up. In turn it could become about a little girl turning 6 a little bit more and the sting of a missing daddy a little bit less.

Then a few days later on a rare alone time on my bike and ear buds, I heard the lyrics to this Rachel Platten song:
She dreams of where she's never been
Her story starts where it should end
And she keeps a bible close 
And folds the pages down she needs the most
The faded walls are closing in
So in her head she leaves again
And they've painted ceilings blue and green
And brilliant colors she's never seen

And nothing ever happens if you stay in your room
Nothing ever happens if you leave the party too soon
You'll never be a winner if you're not in the game
Nothing ever happens if you always play it safe
Make a little space and get out of your own way

A ticket out sits on her shelf
But gathers dust upon itself
Cause chasing chance is for the brave
Maybe soon she'll feel that way

But nothing ever happens if you stay in your room
Nothing ever happens if you leave the party too soon
Nothing ever happens if you don't get hurt
Nothing ever happens if you never get dirty
Make a little space and go on, get out
Go on, get out 

Leave what you don't need
You're free and the pieces will fall into place
You and you only
Who can make a little space and... and get out of your own way

She sees the sunlight through the cracks
It's only her who holds her back and... 
And so she takes her deepest breath
Shuts the door and walks down the steps

And nothing ever happens if you stay in your room
Nothing ever happens if you leave the party too soon 
Nothing ever happens if you're not in the game
And nothing ever happens if you always play it safe
Make a little space and get out of your own... 

Oh, get out of your own way
Get out of your own 
Oh, get out of your own way
Get out of your own way


OK! OK!
I get it. Show up! 
...but seriously was that song written about me? Is Rachel Platten stalking me?

So tonight I knew I had to show up to this Story Teller's Event from women who had learned to trust God despite pain and loss at a local church...period pimple and all (you know, you know what I am talking about).

It was so incredible to see women speaking words of vulnerability and ugliness and watching into turn into beauty and light. 

One comment (or at least what I got from the comment) stuck with me from a women whom had struggled with infertility for years, often we pray for God to bring us THROUGH the time of suffering, when really IN the time of suffering is God's gift to us. 

So thanks sis and sistas' in Christ for the lesson. 

Slow Leak

It started over 3 years ago at the precise second my mom drew her last breathe.
You could even hear me make a loud exhale.
The leak popped.
I knew in that moment life would never be the same.

A big nail was lodged right in the middle and unless I patched it quickly I would soon have a flat. At first I/we tried everything to patch it up and make the best out of a horrible situation.
Special gatherings in mom's honor. Tense, but healing.

But it is always there. You can hear it in the background. The settle buzz of air leaking at every turn. The big turns create even a louder buzz of leaking air.
Christmas.
Fourth of July.
Birthdays.
Fights.
I worry that one day I will wake up with a flat beyond repair.

The fact is there is a hole that can only be fixed by a mom-shaped patch. It's insidious leak effects every aspect of life. Teddy's giggles aren't the same without mom's giggles in response. The days I long to hold my Claudie is harder without mom there to understand. There is nothing that can change that.

Nothing.

This is my new normal.

No it is not all depressing and horrible, but now every joyous moment brings a tinge of sadness. Every hard moment makes me long for mom's wise counsel.

Although hard to swallow, this is not a bad thing. This is LOVE and evidence that I had it unconditionally in my life for 31 years by a human being who cannot be replaced. What a great gift.

A Gift From God

Everyone likes a happy ending.

A distinct start and a distinct stop to a story.

This is why we love movies and get so upset when the artsy/fartsy ones leave us hanging without a clear ending or an unhappy one.

I haven't blogged in a while. A long while. It's been hard for me. Not because I don't have anything to say. I just felt pressure to write a final chapter of some sort. My mind and heart were so confused on what to say and how to say it.

But I am ready to try. Tomorrow marks a month since Theodore Lee Elliott came into our lives. He came out screaming and I couldn't stop laughing hearing his screams. See I had prayed and asked many others to pray we would hear a cry upon his arrival. It was the hardest thing for us not hearing Claudie's cries and I just needed to hear his as soon as he arrived. Well,  I think I prayed too hard or asked to many people to pray because his cries turned to screams and he didn't stop. I kept giggling uncontrollably through the tears even when his cries stopped and contentment set in the moment he came close to my face and I could smell him and take in his incredible beauty.

We named him Theodore because it meant gift from God.  (Get it now? As in Teddy...as in Teddy Bear, hence Baby Bear. See I told you I already told you all his name.)

It was a magical day. The day started off stormy and i noted the clouds parting from the large window in my labor room right as I was being wheeled off to my c-section.

I remember thinking if there is a rainbow in the sky I am going to totally eat my words. For those who don't know there is a term called rainbow baby. It is for a child that is born after the loss of the previous baby. I have been vocal about my distaste for the term because first off not everyone gets their rainbow. Secondly, I feel it makes children interchangeable. As if one baby heartbeat negates the one that didn't.

The statement that goes along with rainbow baby is:

After every storm there is a rainbow.
The rainbow does not negate the storm, but is a promise of God's blessing to us.
 (this is one definition, there are variations)

But this statement simply isn't accurate. First off, Claudie was our rainbow and she died. Also, there are tons of people who simply will not have another child after their loss. Secondly, it is taken scripture a bit out of context. A rainbow is God's promise but he never says if I take a child, I will replace it.

I still feel this way but I have to say as the months went on with my pregnancy with Theodore I started to understand the rainbow term a bit more. The pain and suffering of our loss was being replaced with the promise of a newborn and a future with another child. The immediate moments after Theodore was born I felt like an idiot for ever thinking rainbow was a bad term. I was elated. I felt peace that had been missing since our first miscarriage in 2011.  I held him in our arms and I thought this is it! It was all worth it for this.
I began to believe it for the next few days. Theodore filled a void in our world. Big brother Henry and big sis Amelie were happier than I have ever seen them. Friends and family rejoiced in a way I didn't realize how deeply they had been affected by our losses.

Then as the days went on, something felt wrong. It hit softly at first. I would sob quietly as I fed my newborn in my arms in the overnight hours. I attributed it to hormone shifts. Then Mother's Day came and it hit me, HARD.  It was NOT all worth it. Teddy's life wasn't worth Claudie's life. They are two distinct human beings. Two separate souls. I felt guilty. Guilty for trying to replace our daughter. Guilty for not being able to give others our happy ever after they all wanted so deeply for us. I want so badly to have the happy ending, the final chapter to a long, pain-ridden story. This is not the way life actually happens though. Life is not a straight path with some ups and downs in between.

My mom knew she would die for one week before she passed. She knew this reality on Mother's Day three years ago and she had until Thursday evening to say things most of us will never get the chance to. Something that has struck me about that time with her is there was no final grand statement to summarize her life. Sure there were lots of profound statements to each of us and tons of intimate moments but no dramatic quote at the end of her book. Instead her last remarks were about the life that was to come.

I see it! The light. Do you see it? I am ready- my mom said faintly in her last few breathes.

It seemed to us as earth-dwellers that her book was on its last page, but as a Christian she realized her life was not ending but she was transitioning into something everlasting and beautiful.

I guess what I am trying to say is while Theodore is an incredible answer to prayer, he isn't an answer to our daughter's death. I wouldn't want that incredible burden for my a child to carry anyhow. He is another chapter in a book, another chapter in a beautiful, rollercoastered, loopied-looped, upside down, backwards, sideways book that will last forever and will reach its perfection only after we die--THIS is ever-lasting promise is that God gives in the form a rainbow!

Prayers Answered

So after my last blog entry, you might have a clue to the anxiety that has crept in and continues to get worse and worse with each passing week.


It became clear to Dustin and I that going past 38 weeks would be very hard for us since it was the week we lost Claudette. Actually, her autopsy put her time of death sometime within 48 hours of her 37 week biophysical profile.

This is what terrifies the most. That we can perform all the test available but still lose her so quickly after they are normal.

We decided we would ask very direct questions and try to have the docs understand the need to take the baby some where before 38 weeks, even if nothing was showing up wrong. We came up with a script of sorts we would take to our docs at today's 34 week scan. I was anxious about doing this because I didn't really know if it was best to take him sooner. Was I letting my anxiety get in the way of rational thinking?

I grew more anxious thinking about this and decided to bring very direct prayers to God. I prayed all night that it would be clear. That we wouldn't have to make a decision, but it would be made for us. I walked to my car praying out loud like a mad person, not even realizing what I was doing until I got a strange look from the guy walking next to me. I prayed things like, "make her [our doc] answer the questions we don't even know we have."

We went into my weekly BPP not expecting much from him, since he failed last week's for practice breathes. He exceeded our expectations and then some. He was showing offsomething fierce. The sonographer kept saying things like, "you don't want to do a NST today little boy! Wow, you are so active!" It was such a relief. He kept licking his fingers...odd... and opening his eyes...more odd. He was cracking us up and couldn't believe how much he looks like his daddy.

After getting lots of great pics we waited for the doc. Both of us still thinking we need to talk to the doc
about what to do with the next few weeks of this pregnancy. As we were discussing the door knocks, in walks our high risk OB and says, "I need to ask you something. Because of your erratic blood sugars and your history are you open to doing an amnio and taking the baby if lungs are okay at 37 weeks? This would be April 10."

I almost fell out of my chair. I had envisioned this baby being born on April 10th since the day I found out I was pregnant. I knew 38 weeks was too scary, 36 weeks was too early. 37 was what I hoped for. We discussed risk/benefit of the amniocentesis versus steriods ect and agreed this was a good game plan.
So in 17 days we will hopefully meet our son!!

We are still in a bit of shock, in fact Dustin said that is too soon for me. I laughed thinking he was joking. He wasn't! He said no I think that is too soon, I have a lot to get done before that date at work and I don't think I can do it. I ever so kindly, restrained my pregnant-hormonal self and said, "I want you to think about what you just said and then speak to me."

He nervously smiled, kissed me and said, "I have to get to office and get 2 months of work done in 2 weeks."

Daddy's nerves are setting in. I get it, but this momma feels more at  peace and  confident in the first time since we found out I was pregnant. Everything seems to be falling into place. In fact, when I was getting my EKG, the EKG tech and I started speaking and she is a volunteer at Alexandra House, a place for baby hospice and fetal/baby loss, and she helped make the care package I got when we lost Claudie! I mean really?? What are the chances.

So now mommy and nervous daddy have a plan, a date, and serious dose of HOPE!