Today is the first day of advent. Such a good way as a family to come together and highlight the gift that Christmas is all about. If you are interested, here is a great link that explains advent and gives scripture reading for each day:

http://www.focusonthefamily.com/parenting/holidays/making-meaningful-christmas-memories/celebrate-advent

We spent the weekend decorating our house for Christmas. Today Kevin and I worked on decorating Koen's grave. Kevin built the stand for Koen's four little Christmas trees and I made the garland and ornaments. We pour out our love to him in whatever way we can. He will be missed this Christmas. If he were here he would be a year and a half, and I am sure he would be loving the magic, wonder, and excitement of the season. I can picture his super curly blonde hair staring at our Christmas tree.

Last Thanksgiving felt like an out of body experience for me. I still felt so raw. On a day that is devoted to giving thanks, I had so much to grieve. I felt sadness mixed with immense gratitude. Our earth shattering loss opened my eyes wide. I was seeing everything through a new light and was thankful for the smallest things, thankful for the love and support that was poured out on us, and still in amazement of the very new life growing inside of me.

This past Sunday we had a guest pastor at church. He was speaking on a topic from a certain scripture passage and briefly referenced that he had been studying Psalm 139 as a Psalm of a Thanksgiving. I turned my bible to that Psalm that I know so well during the sermon, checking out from the message that he was preaching, and had my own time with The Lord. Psalm 139 sent to us by Kevin's aunt when I was in labor with Koen. Psalm 139 that was read at Koen's funeral. Psalm 139 that was on our Christmas card last year. Psalm 139 that hangs on our wall. Psalm 139 that I have clung to and know so well. Psalm 139 that I have said as a prayer of desperation.

Psalm 139
1 O Lord, you have examined my heart
    and know everything about me.
2 You know when I sit down or stand up.
    You know my thoughts even when I’m far away.
3 You see me when I travel
    and when I rest at home.
    You know everything I do.
4 You know what I am going to say
    even before I say it, Lord.
5 You go before me and follow me.
    You place your hand of blessing on my head.
6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
    too great for me to understand!
7 I can never escape from your Spirit!
    I can never get away from your presence!
8 If I go up to heaven, you are there;
    if I go down to the grave, you are there.
9 If I ride the wings of the morning,
    if I dwell by the farthest oceans,
10 even there your hand will guide me,
    and your strength will support me.
11 I could ask the darkness to hide me
    and the light around me to become night--
12     but even in darkness I cannot hide from you.
To you the night shines as bright as day.
    Darkness and light are the same to you.
13 You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body
    and knit me together in my mother’s womb.
14 Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex!
    Your workmanship is marvelous—how well I know it.
15 You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion,
    as I was woven together in the dark of the womb.
16 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.
17 How precious are your thoughts about me, O God.
    They cannot be numbered!
18 I can’t even count them;
    they outnumber the grains of sand!
And when I wake up,
    you are still with me!
19 O God, if only you would destroy the wicked!
    Get out of my life, you murderers!
20 They blaspheme you;
    your enemies misuse your name.
21 O Lord, shouldn’t I hate those who hate you?
    Shouldn’t I despise those who oppose you?
22 Yes, I hate them with total hatred,
    for your enemies are my enemies.
23 Search me, O God, and know my heart;
    test me and know my anxious thoughts.
24 Point out anything in me that offends you,
    and lead me along the path of everlasting life.

I can now read this as a Psalm of thanksgiving.  I love scriptures ability to present itself in different ways at different times in our lives. I am thankful for a God who knows my thoughts, feelings, and words that will come out of my mouth.  I am thankful for a God who goes before me and follows me.  I am thankful for a God who places His hand on my head and blesses me.  How utterly awesome is that?  More amazing than I can even comprehend.  A God who knew me before I was even born.  A God who thinks more precious thoughts about me than I can even count.  A God who knows my many anxious thoughts, and gives me peace to rest.  I am humbled.  This Thanksgiving I am thankful for a God who has not left my side during the most trying days of my life.  A God who was there, when I lay alone so many hours for 21 days at the hospital.  A God who was with me as I was transported by ambulance not knowing what the hours ahead would hold.  A God who was with me as I lay in bed with a shattered heart grieving Koen.  I am thankful that I know His presence in my life at a much deeper level than I ever have.  I am thankful that I get to hold and snuggle the physical evidence of his love this Thanksgiving.  I am thankful that my outlook on life has been forever changed.  I am thankful that I am not the same person, that I have learned and grown.  I am thankful that God has made beauty from the ashes.  

Something about the snow on the ground and Christmas in the air has me feeling sad. This is my favorite time of year, something I can't wait for. I thought I couldn't love Christmas any more and then it got even better when we had Hackett. This weekend I felt the familiar joy and wonder of the season approaching. Today I am in tears. I am rounding up things to decorate Koen's grave. Hackett and I picked out four tiny trees this weekend and today I bought some things for me to make decorations. I realized I am trying to make his trees look like ours. I want him to have our tree, to be in our home. I want him to open presents, smile at me with the glow of Christmas lights shining on his face, make cookies with me, color pictures, sing carols. How do I possibly create that at his grave? I have presents for Hackett and Tobin purchased already, but none for Koen. My mommy heart feels like I am betraying him. Christmas seems to now hurt my heart.

I am reminded of how empty I felt last year. Of the gaping hole in my heart. How I could not even decorate the tree. I just watched Kevin and Hackett; Hackett was filled with delight and it was all I could do holding it together for him. My pain and heartbreak was so raw last year. This year I don't feel as raw, but I am still hurting, still missing, still wanting. We have the most incredible and loved baby in our home now, but I am still missing my other baby boy.

I shared this yesterday on my Facebook page, but realized later that only some of my friends could view it because of privacy settings.  It is such an amazing gift that I wanted to share with the masses.

I woke this morning and read this post. A sweet friend from our hometown who was married a few weeks ago, donated her wedding dress to http://www.nicuhelpinghands.org/angel-gowns/. This organization takes wedding dresses and transforms them into the tiniest gowns and suits for babies, who have been taken from their parents far to soon, to be used for final photos or for their burial. Kate moved me to tears when she mentioned that all the suits made from her dress would be done so in honor of our Koen. Our hospital did the best they could with a homemade hat and booties, that were too big. We had Koen buried in a newborn sleeper, which I know was far too big for his tiny 2 pound 13 ounces. I had no idea this existed, but now plan to donate my dress as well. This loss occurs far too often, one of Kevin's co-workers is at the hospital tonight delivering their baby who lost its heartbeat. Pray for them. Kate, your generosity will touch so many. Thank you.

Here is Kate's post:
Tonight, I said goodbye to my wedding dress. 17 days ago, my perfect, gorgeous dress transformed me into a bride! By the end of this week, my dress will be tornapart at the seams, cut into a million (okay maybe 20) pieces, and seamstresses will create several beautiful, tiny gowns and suits out of the gorgeous fabric! The gowns and suits are given (free of charge) to families experiencing stillbirth, neonatal death, and late term pregnancy loss. These beautiful gowns are typically used for final photos and burial services, and are crafted to fit even the tiniest of souls. While I wore that fabric on the happiest day of my life, and these families will put their child in that same fabric, on their very worst day, I hope the love placed by my heart, into that fabric, affirms the importance of the life of their child. I can think of no better use of a wedding dress…

Jackie and (another friend from our hometown who lost their daughter) I dedicated my dress in honor of your children. All suits will be made in honor of Koen, (and all gowns in honor of our friends precious girl).

***************************************
I also wanted to share this story that brought me to tears and broke me heart.  This could have been us.  When I continued to bleed after Koen's delivery, I began to fear that something like this would happen.  I am still here and I am so grateful.  Pray for this dad who has lost both his wife and son.
http://www.buzzfeed.com/richardhjames/father-sings-to-his-dying-newborn-son-after-losing-his-wife?bffbvideo

Tobin and I awoke to the sun slowly lighting up the sky over the Pacific Ocean, just north of Monterey, in California this past Saturday. It started as just a pale blue and quickly added shades of pink. It was spectacular. Seven of my dear girlfriends were still asleep as I held Tobin and just soaked in the beauty. I see Koen in little things every day, but when I look at the sky is when I feel the closest to him.

So much travel encompassed our trip, a bit daunting for my four month old and I, but Saturday was worth the many hours traveled. God put these amazing women in my life six years ago, they are gifts. I drank in their laughter, smiles, and buzz of chatter. I wished I could have bottled it up to bring back to Michigan with me. It was like I never left with these dear friends who know how to love God, their little families, and friends with their whole heart. We had a weekend long high school sleepover, minus all drama. The weather was gorgeous. We hit the beach after breakfast, after lunch, and at sunset.  

At sunset I saw Koen again.  After the sun disappeared into the water the sky morphed into so many different glorious colors.  We all scattered enjoying the moment in our own ways.  I just planted my feet in the sand, snuggled Tobin in close, sang "Lord, I Need You", and cried, so present in the moment and wonder of God.  When one of my dear friends checked on me, I told her "I see him in the sky".  We hugged and cried together.  Then I shared what I had been thinking about while staring at one of the most brilliant sunsets, "I wonder if Koen helps God color every night?".  As the ladies returned with sand dollars and other beach treasures I was surrounded with their presence and love, and I shared with them too.  We all decided that Koen did a really good job that night knowing that mom was watching.  You used so many colors in your heavenly crayon box and Mommy is proud of your work that I see in the sky.  

Photo credit goes to my girlfriends, many of which know how to work their cameras!

Sometimes I am caught so off gaurd. I think of Koen every day. He is always in my heart, but does not consume my thoughts all day. I make an effort to live in the present. I feel that I can best honor his life by being a good mom to his brothers and wife to his dad. When I think of Koen on a daily basis, it is no longer the horror film reel that once played on a constant loop, consuming me. Now it just moments, filled with love and longing, but mostly love. There is a peace. It's good. But sometimes, my memories of him are triggered by something.

I went to my township building to fulfill my civic and patriotic duty by voting today. There was a man there working on fixing the ballot machine. I kept staring at him, trying to place his face. It wasn't until I left the building that occurred to me. He was the man who we met at the cemetery just days after Koen's death (Sometimes I write death and sometimes I write birth, often unsure what word to use, because for him they are one in the same). This man walked me to so many different patches of grass because I couldn't decide where I wanted to bury my baby's body. I had planned out Koen's nursery with great care, I didn't want his resting place to be chosen in haste. Mommy wanted it to be perfect. This man patiently appeased me, showing me all our options, until I was confident that, yes, in fact the very first plot would be Koen's final resting place on this earth.

I was able to leave the township building without tears, but my memories rushing quickly into my constant thoughts. I had to run a quick errand and when I went to checkout I recognized the woman in front of me. Sometimes I get blasted by more than one trigger in one day, in one hour. This woman was a nurse. A nurse who was called in to make one of the many attempts to get my IV started between my contractions when I was laboring with Koen, just minutes after learning that he was dead and that I would have to deliver his precious lifeless body. She was the nurse who discharged me from the labor and delivery floor the next day, sending us home without a baby.

Sometimes there isn't peace. Sometimes the triggers are too much. Sometimes the longing and pain outweighs all else.

I was given a gift this morning. A special moment at Hackett's school where he was practicing reading a story he wrote on stage with his classmates. Tobin in my arms and watching Hackett beam with pride, my heart was spilling over. I soaked in the many hugs Hackett gave me in front of his classmates, realizing those days are soon coming to an end. Sometimes God gives me awareness of memories to cling to knowing what the rest of the day holds for me. Sometimes my love and peace is then able to return more quickly. I know all the time, not just sometimes, my God remains.