Thursday, January 17, 2013
Saturday, January 12, 2013
Dreams
Ever had a dream that felt so real you woke confused? Or dreams that you just knew meant something real. I've had several. Sometimes they're obviously not true, like the frightening dreams featuring tornados, snakes, or killers chasing me through dark winding tunnels. Wait...is that just me? Feel free to ignore that.
I rarely remember them, but I've had a few amazing dreams that I do.
I once dreamed of holding baby Abby in the woods. It was peaceful and beautiful. I was talking to her and animals started showing up. It was very Snow White like.
As we sat happily, a very old, majestic, giant tortoise began to slowly walk by. Everything in the forest stilled. I pointed to him and whispered to Abby how special and rare it was to see such a unique creature. The old turtle stopped right in front of her, and looked straight into her eyes with the most heartbreakingly loving look I'd ever seen. Then a single tear rolled down his cheek and he slowly walked away. I woke up bothered by the dream, and vividly remembered it.
There was a page in Abby's favorite book that hospice gave us to read to her about dying that brought the dream back to me. I'm still not sure what it meant, if anything, but it stayed with me.
When the girls were little, I prayed God would heal them, daily and fervently. I don't think there were many days I went to sleep without tears on my pillow. I wish I could remember how old they were when I finally had a dream that I believe answered those prayers, but I can't. I only remember the dream.
I was in the grocery store (which still makes me laugh--where else would I be?) walking with my cart. As I looked down to the other end of the isle, I saw Emily and Abby walking hand in hand with Jeff's grandfather. He was young and beautiful. I'd never seen him that way, but somehow I knew it was him. The twins were skipping beside him. The first thing I noticed was their hair moving. When you have a child that can't walk, the little things, like bouncing curls are greatly missed. They were everything I had ever hoped or dreamed they would be, and so much more. I walked down the isle to get to them, but they were on the other side of where I was. This happened several times before I understood. I WOULD see them that way. Just not on this side.
I woke up with complete peace. I was able to move on from that point and enjoy my girls more where they were. It didn't mean I was never sad again, but I felt that God had clearly answered me. They were going to be okay.
I clung to that image of Abby, clearly engraved in my mind, healthy and whole in the last months of her life. It was a comfort in the midst of sorrow.
Since Abby died, I've hoped I would dream of her. I miss her so much. I knew that it would be a gift to dream of her.
I finally did, two months after she died. I was holding her in a chair by a window. The light shined in on her face. I could almost feel the weight of her in my arms when I woke up. She was my Abby, healthy and smiling, saying "ya" and "ma-ma" in the way only she can. She asked about her grandma, and we talked as we always did. She felt so real and alive, that I was a little confused when I woke up. I was so happy to see her.
I didn't dream of her again until a few days ago. In my dream, I went to visit her grave and she was sitting beside it. It was a weird confused dream, where I knew it didn't make sense even as it was unfolding. I went to her and realized she was alive. I picked her up and she felt heavy and strong; not the frail girl we buried there. I was still confused, but so happy to see her. I thought she was hungry, but remembered I removed her g-tube and central line. I thought I should take her to the hospital, but didn't want to. We took her home where she drank apple juice for Jeff really well, so we started feeding her by mouth and laughing and talking to her. It felt miraculous to be with her again like that. I didn't care how she got there, I was just so thankful for the time I had with her.
I don't believe that Abby was actually there in my dream. I believe she is in Heaven, surrounded in light, love, and the presence of God. I don't think she misses us at all in such goodness. I do believe that God gives us what we need. I believe He comforts me with those very few moments I feel my girl in my arms again.
I think it comes from Him when I need it most, because if I had a choice, I would hold her every night and wake up without having to miss her so much each day.
As it is, I have a precious hour in a dream, that I'm able to remember the little girl I love so completely. When I'm awake and thinking of her, I often replay the last year and a half in my mind. It's hard to remember her healthy. I just love that I've dreamed of her smiling and not sick.
A few people have told me that they've dreamed of Abby without CP. I'm not sure I'm ready for that. I loved the dream I had when she was little, but now I am so thankful to see her healthy, even with CP. That's the Abby I know and love. Even in my dreams.
I rarely remember them, but I've had a few amazing dreams that I do.
I once dreamed of holding baby Abby in the woods. It was peaceful and beautiful. I was talking to her and animals started showing up. It was very Snow White like.
As we sat happily, a very old, majestic, giant tortoise began to slowly walk by. Everything in the forest stilled. I pointed to him and whispered to Abby how special and rare it was to see such a unique creature. The old turtle stopped right in front of her, and looked straight into her eyes with the most heartbreakingly loving look I'd ever seen. Then a single tear rolled down his cheek and he slowly walked away. I woke up bothered by the dream, and vividly remembered it.
There was a page in Abby's favorite book that hospice gave us to read to her about dying that brought the dream back to me. I'm still not sure what it meant, if anything, but it stayed with me.
When the girls were little, I prayed God would heal them, daily and fervently. I don't think there were many days I went to sleep without tears on my pillow. I wish I could remember how old they were when I finally had a dream that I believe answered those prayers, but I can't. I only remember the dream.
I was in the grocery store (which still makes me laugh--where else would I be?) walking with my cart. As I looked down to the other end of the isle, I saw Emily and Abby walking hand in hand with Jeff's grandfather. He was young and beautiful. I'd never seen him that way, but somehow I knew it was him. The twins were skipping beside him. The first thing I noticed was their hair moving. When you have a child that can't walk, the little things, like bouncing curls are greatly missed. They were everything I had ever hoped or dreamed they would be, and so much more. I walked down the isle to get to them, but they were on the other side of where I was. This happened several times before I understood. I WOULD see them that way. Just not on this side.
I woke up with complete peace. I was able to move on from that point and enjoy my girls more where they were. It didn't mean I was never sad again, but I felt that God had clearly answered me. They were going to be okay.
I clung to that image of Abby, clearly engraved in my mind, healthy and whole in the last months of her life. It was a comfort in the midst of sorrow.
Since Abby died, I've hoped I would dream of her. I miss her so much. I knew that it would be a gift to dream of her.
I finally did, two months after she died. I was holding her in a chair by a window. The light shined in on her face. I could almost feel the weight of her in my arms when I woke up. She was my Abby, healthy and smiling, saying "ya" and "ma-ma" in the way only she can. She asked about her grandma, and we talked as we always did. She felt so real and alive, that I was a little confused when I woke up. I was so happy to see her.
I didn't dream of her again until a few days ago. In my dream, I went to visit her grave and she was sitting beside it. It was a weird confused dream, where I knew it didn't make sense even as it was unfolding. I went to her and realized she was alive. I picked her up and she felt heavy and strong; not the frail girl we buried there. I was still confused, but so happy to see her. I thought she was hungry, but remembered I removed her g-tube and central line. I thought I should take her to the hospital, but didn't want to. We took her home where she drank apple juice for Jeff really well, so we started feeding her by mouth and laughing and talking to her. It felt miraculous to be with her again like that. I didn't care how she got there, I was just so thankful for the time I had with her.
I don't believe that Abby was actually there in my dream. I believe she is in Heaven, surrounded in light, love, and the presence of God. I don't think she misses us at all in such goodness. I do believe that God gives us what we need. I believe He comforts me with those very few moments I feel my girl in my arms again.
I think it comes from Him when I need it most, because if I had a choice, I would hold her every night and wake up without having to miss her so much each day.
As it is, I have a precious hour in a dream, that I'm able to remember the little girl I love so completely. When I'm awake and thinking of her, I often replay the last year and a half in my mind. It's hard to remember her healthy. I just love that I've dreamed of her smiling and not sick.
A few people have told me that they've dreamed of Abby without CP. I'm not sure I'm ready for that. I loved the dream I had when she was little, but now I am so thankful to see her healthy, even with CP. That's the Abby I know and love. Even in my dreams.
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
4 months
I wrote a blog the other day, that has disappeared. I think it's been long enough since I complained about the Blogger App to say once again, I am not a fan of App's for blogging. Ugh.
I wrote about where we are at the four month mark since Abigail died.
Four months since we kissed that sweet face or fought over who loved her more as she laughed between us. She always picked a side. Usually it was Daddy's, but every now and again I would win and it was a huge deal.
It feels like she was just here yesterday, and then it also feels like a lifetime has passed since my girl was in my arms. It doesn't seem possible that I could ever survive four months without one of my children. I do survive though, because I have to.
I would say overall, we're doing well. We are all doing what we did before, just with knowing something is missing that will always be missing.
Hannah went back to Pfeiffer, Sarah and Emily to school, and once again we are finding comfort in routine.
This is Emily and Abby's birthday month, which has always been a struggle for me. Every year I relive their birth and the months that followed. It's not always sad, but it is emotional. The babies were due April 27th, but born January 27th. The what-ifs play through my mind. What if they stayed in just a few more weeks?
Our whole lives would have been different. I couldn't love them anymore just the way they are. But loving them as I do, I just can't help but wish they had all the choices in life that every other child had.
The coolest thing about my awesome girls is that they made the most of what they did have. They both laughed every day. Even Abby's last days, she was present and wanting to participate. She wanted to get out of bed every single day. Only the last night was she too sick to play. She was amazing, and so is Emily.
So this year, Emily will turn 15, and Abby will forever be 14. It's just another way we have to leave her behind. We had to remove her from our health insurance, and cancel her well check appointment. Life goes on, and 14 years, 7 months, and 6 days of loving our child will always stay with us.
Thankfully, Emily doesn't want a party. She just wants a family dinner. Abby was my party girl. I think it would break my heart to party without her.
At four months, we are doing what we've always done. We wake up and put one foot in front of the other. I am thankful for the children I have, and the time I had with Abby. I miss her every second, and have an emptiness I'm not sure will ever fill until I see her again. I also have some measure of peace each day. I'm not sure I can ask for more than that.
I wrote about where we are at the four month mark since Abigail died.
Four months since we kissed that sweet face or fought over who loved her more as she laughed between us. She always picked a side. Usually it was Daddy's, but every now and again I would win and it was a huge deal.
It feels like she was just here yesterday, and then it also feels like a lifetime has passed since my girl was in my arms. It doesn't seem possible that I could ever survive four months without one of my children. I do survive though, because I have to.
I would say overall, we're doing well. We are all doing what we did before, just with knowing something is missing that will always be missing.
Hannah went back to Pfeiffer, Sarah and Emily to school, and once again we are finding comfort in routine.
This is Emily and Abby's birthday month, which has always been a struggle for me. Every year I relive their birth and the months that followed. It's not always sad, but it is emotional. The babies were due April 27th, but born January 27th. The what-ifs play through my mind. What if they stayed in just a few more weeks?
Our whole lives would have been different. I couldn't love them anymore just the way they are. But loving them as I do, I just can't help but wish they had all the choices in life that every other child had.
The coolest thing about my awesome girls is that they made the most of what they did have. They both laughed every day. Even Abby's last days, she was present and wanting to participate. She wanted to get out of bed every single day. Only the last night was she too sick to play. She was amazing, and so is Emily.
So this year, Emily will turn 15, and Abby will forever be 14. It's just another way we have to leave her behind. We had to remove her from our health insurance, and cancel her well check appointment. Life goes on, and 14 years, 7 months, and 6 days of loving our child will always stay with us.
Thankfully, Emily doesn't want a party. She just wants a family dinner. Abby was my party girl. I think it would break my heart to party without her.
At four months, we are doing what we've always done. We wake up and put one foot in front of the other. I am thankful for the children I have, and the time I had with Abby. I miss her every second, and have an emptiness I'm not sure will ever fill until I see her again. I also have some measure of peace each day. I'm not sure I can ask for more than that.
Thursday, January 3, 2013
New Years
Oh my goodness! Is it Thursday and the third of January already? The year is flying by and we're only 3 days in.
I'm not generally a New Years resolution kinda girl, but this year, everything is different.
When Abby died, I gave myself the rest of the year for absolutely nothing. Just survive day to day. I wanted to be still as much as possible. I cried as much as I wanted and except in the presence of my kids, didn't try to pull it together. Almost 4 months of consistent grief.
Don't get me wrong, I will grieve for my precious daughter the rest of my life. Until she is with me again, I will ache for her. I'm sure I will have days that I can barely get through. But, life has to slowly move on again too, which means I need to begin to form a plan.
I think that plan will include some form of work, mostly because earning my keep might be fun :)
I stopped working when the twins were born because they needed so much. Now, I have a lot of time on my hands. I need to find something to do that I can make a little money with and still have some flexibility if Emily needs me. I don't know what that is, but I want to try something. Hmmmm, what should I do?
I do have a few personal resolutions. Pioneer Woman (a blog I read) used the word resolution for an acronym, so I'll give it a shot too. I'm not going to think of them as resolutions as much as continued life goals, with as much grace sprinkled in as possible.
R- Read my Bible. I would love to spend a year of consistency. Reading, learning, and taking it all in.
I don't want to be greedy with "R", but I need 2.
The second is Remember. I want to find a way or cause that honors and remembers Abby. I'm not sure which way to go with that, but I want to remember. Every. Day.
E- Exercise. Ya, that just about says it all. (I would like to say I am fatty-McFatty here, but I'm being a little nicer to myself-- see "U")
S- Socialize. I am a social girl, and I miss my friends. This is where God allowed us to be, and I have to make a life here. The first year didn't count because I never left the house when I wasn't heading to the hospital. I'm going to spend time with my friends, whom I dearly love, and try to make new ones.
O- I was warned this one was tough, and it is. I'll go with Offer. Offer to help, listen, pray, or be there when needed. Offer myself as much as my battered little heart can to serve others.
L- Love. Deeply. Completely. Freely.
U- Become more Understanding. There is no need to be so hard on myself or those around me. I need to chill out a bit.
T- Think things through. I have lived a life of only reacting and responding to situations. I have time now, and I realize that I can stop and think more often.
I- Invest time and energy in my family and each day that God has given me. I don't want to waste it, or miss it!
O- Oh no! Another O.
Operate my keyboard. A sneaky little way to say write. I love to write and have several unfinished projects, and many more in my head. Even if I never do anything with it, I'd like to finish something.
N- Notice the little things. What I remember most clearly about Abby's life are all the small moments that made it so meaningful. She was legally blind, and we often described the world to her, and the sounds she heard. It made it incredibly special for me to be on this created planet with her. I want to keep that gift she gave.
Happy new year!
I'm not generally a New Years resolution kinda girl, but this year, everything is different.
When Abby died, I gave myself the rest of the year for absolutely nothing. Just survive day to day. I wanted to be still as much as possible. I cried as much as I wanted and except in the presence of my kids, didn't try to pull it together. Almost 4 months of consistent grief.
Don't get me wrong, I will grieve for my precious daughter the rest of my life. Until she is with me again, I will ache for her. I'm sure I will have days that I can barely get through. But, life has to slowly move on again too, which means I need to begin to form a plan.
I think that plan will include some form of work, mostly because earning my keep might be fun :)
I stopped working when the twins were born because they needed so much. Now, I have a lot of time on my hands. I need to find something to do that I can make a little money with and still have some flexibility if Emily needs me. I don't know what that is, but I want to try something. Hmmmm, what should I do?
I do have a few personal resolutions. Pioneer Woman (a blog I read) used the word resolution for an acronym, so I'll give it a shot too. I'm not going to think of them as resolutions as much as continued life goals, with as much grace sprinkled in as possible.
R- Read my Bible. I would love to spend a year of consistency. Reading, learning, and taking it all in.
I don't want to be greedy with "R", but I need 2.
The second is Remember. I want to find a way or cause that honors and remembers Abby. I'm not sure which way to go with that, but I want to remember. Every. Day.
E- Exercise. Ya, that just about says it all. (I would like to say I am fatty-McFatty here, but I'm being a little nicer to myself-- see "U")
S- Socialize. I am a social girl, and I miss my friends. This is where God allowed us to be, and I have to make a life here. The first year didn't count because I never left the house when I wasn't heading to the hospital. I'm going to spend time with my friends, whom I dearly love, and try to make new ones.
O- I was warned this one was tough, and it is. I'll go with Offer. Offer to help, listen, pray, or be there when needed. Offer myself as much as my battered little heart can to serve others.
L- Love. Deeply. Completely. Freely.
U- Become more Understanding. There is no need to be so hard on myself or those around me. I need to chill out a bit.
T- Think things through. I have lived a life of only reacting and responding to situations. I have time now, and I realize that I can stop and think more often.
I- Invest time and energy in my family and each day that God has given me. I don't want to waste it, or miss it!
O- Oh no! Another O.
Operate my keyboard. A sneaky little way to say write. I love to write and have several unfinished projects, and many more in my head. Even if I never do anything with it, I'd like to finish something.
N- Notice the little things. What I remember most clearly about Abby's life are all the small moments that made it so meaningful. She was legally blind, and we often described the world to her, and the sounds she heard. It made it incredibly special for me to be on this created planet with her. I want to keep that gift she gave.
Happy new year!
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