Saturday, May 14, 2011
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Ten Months
We have spent ten months here now without Lynnea. On Tuesday Corey and I had an unexpected opportunity to tour the new U of M Amplatz Children's Hospital. The move in to the new hospital took place last Saturday. Throughout Lynnea's entire life, we had been hearing about this hospital, watching it be built, anxiously awaiting its opening. Though it is a little disappointing that Lynnea isn't here to see it, and to experience how much more patient/family friendly it is compared to the old hospital, it was nice to finally get a chance to see how everything turned out after waiting for it for so long. I think Lynnea would have liked it (I know Ashlyn would have liked it...she's pretty jealous that Mommy and Daddy went to visit without her, and now she keeps asking when we'll take her to go see it), and I'm glad that we took the opportunity to tour it.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
I Know that My Redeemer Lives
"For I know that my Redeemer lives, and at the last he will stand upon the earth. And after my skin has been thus destroyed, yet in my flesh I shall see God, whom I shall see for myself, and my eyes shall behold, and not another." Job 19: 25-27
These verses are the basis for the common Easter hymn, "I Know That My Redeemer Lives." We sing the words as a proclamation of Jesus' resurrection, His atonement for our sins, and the assurance that we have of life everlasting with Him. I find it intriguing that these verses are not found in the New Testament spoken by Mary or one of the disciples after finding the empty tomb on Easter morning, or after seeing Christ for themselves when He appeared to them, but instead they are found in the Old Testament, spoken by Job to his friends after he has suffered the loss of his wealth, his children, and his own health. He speaks these words with confidence while enduring tremendous adversity in order to paint a clear picture that he has of his hope in salvation and everlasting life. His testimony, especially under these circumstances, is an excellent reminder of just how much hope and comfort our Redeemer brings. Job is able to look beyond his time on earth, and his earthly suffering to see what awaits him and all believers when his physical life has ended.
Job's proclamation brings great comfort as I think about Lynnea and all of the suffering that she endured during her short time here with us on earth, and all of the glory that she is now experiencing in heaven because of Christ's death and resurrection. It is immensely comforting to know that, no matter how much suffering this life brings, ultimately there is not only an end to that suffering, but unimaginable glory and joy waiting for us. He is risen. He is risen indeed. Hallelujah.
These verses are the basis for the common Easter hymn, "I Know That My Redeemer Lives." We sing the words as a proclamation of Jesus' resurrection, His atonement for our sins, and the assurance that we have of life everlasting with Him. I find it intriguing that these verses are not found in the New Testament spoken by Mary or one of the disciples after finding the empty tomb on Easter morning, or after seeing Christ for themselves when He appeared to them, but instead they are found in the Old Testament, spoken by Job to his friends after he has suffered the loss of his wealth, his children, and his own health. He speaks these words with confidence while enduring tremendous adversity in order to paint a clear picture that he has of his hope in salvation and everlasting life. His testimony, especially under these circumstances, is an excellent reminder of just how much hope and comfort our Redeemer brings. Job is able to look beyond his time on earth, and his earthly suffering to see what awaits him and all believers when his physical life has ended.
Job's proclamation brings great comfort as I think about Lynnea and all of the suffering that she endured during her short time here with us on earth, and all of the glory that she is now experiencing in heaven because of Christ's death and resurrection. It is immensely comforting to know that, no matter how much suffering this life brings, ultimately there is not only an end to that suffering, but unimaginable glory and joy waiting for us. He is risen. He is risen indeed. Hallelujah.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Pictures of Ashlyn
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
It Takes a Village...
I have a favor to ask all of you that are on Facebook. Please go to the following link (it's a link to a note that I wrote) It Takes a Village... and leave a comment on the note. The parenting website MomSquawk.com is having a contest to help them choose a few new bloggers to write for them on a consistent basis, which is something I would enjoy doing. They requested that potential bloggers write a short piece for on their Facebook page, and the winner will be determined based on the number of comments that each note receives. So, please help me start a discussion on my note. Thank you everyone!
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Nine Months
It has been nine months since we said good-bye to Lynnea. It was hard today sitting in the examining room with the pediatrician for Ashlyn's 4-year-old well-child check-up. This was our first time back there since Lynnea died. Ashlyn enjoyed the check-up, though I think she also sensed that it was a little strange to be there without Lynnea (Ashlyn came along for many of Lynnea's visits), and she reminisced some about what it was like when we used to take Lynnea to see the pediatrician, as we sat in the same examining room that we were in for all of Lynnea's visits. The pediatrician teared up a little at the end of our visit as we talked a little bit about how life is now without Lynnea here.
Life keeps moving forward, but I still miss her; we all do. In order to use some of the experiences that we had with Lynnea to benefit others, I have been working on a few books to help families that are faced with having hospitalized children, or the loss of a child. I have started a publishing company called Heart of Hope Publishing and will be publishing my first book in the near future titled But I Still Miss You. It is a book for young children to help them cope with the loss of a sibling or other close relative. Other books will hopefully soon follow.
Life keeps moving forward, but I still miss her; we all do. In order to use some of the experiences that we had with Lynnea to benefit others, I have been working on a few books to help families that are faced with having hospitalized children, or the loss of a child. I have started a publishing company called Heart of Hope Publishing and will be publishing my first book in the near future titled But I Still Miss You. It is a book for young children to help them cope with the loss of a sibling or other close relative. Other books will hopefully soon follow.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Celebrating Ashlyn's Birthday
Four years ago today, at 1:04pm, Ashlyn Grace entered this world, and I held her in my arms for the first time. She was beautiful; she was perfect. She's still beautiful, and she's still perfect.
On Saturday we began her birthday celebration with a birthday party with some of her friends and family. She had a great time playing with her friends and blowing out the candles on her Hello Kitty birthday cake that her Aunt Megan was kind enough to make for her. Today we celebrated by going to McDonald's for lunch and letting her play in the play place for a while. We don't do this very often, so this was a special treat for her. This afternoon she had another birthday party with family members that couldn't make it to the party on Saturday. She requested that we have "birthday soup" so that's what we had for dinner at her party (and some hotdogs to go along with it...she ate the hotdog and only tasted the soup). We had icecream cake and she again got to blow out her candle (this was a bit of a novelty considering that the past two years her birthdays were spent at the hospital with Lynnea and we weren't allowed to light candles in the family room for her). She had a lot of fun. She received many gifts, including a cowgirl outfit (various pieces given by different people...I'm impressed at how coordinated it is) that looks adorable on her. Here are some pictures from her parties, and her in her cowgirl outfit.
On Saturday we began her birthday celebration with a birthday party with some of her friends and family. She had a great time playing with her friends and blowing out the candles on her Hello Kitty birthday cake that her Aunt Megan was kind enough to make for her. Today we celebrated by going to McDonald's for lunch and letting her play in the play place for a while. We don't do this very often, so this was a special treat for her. This afternoon she had another birthday party with family members that couldn't make it to the party on Saturday. She requested that we have "birthday soup" so that's what we had for dinner at her party (and some hotdogs to go along with it...she ate the hotdog and only tasted the soup). We had icecream cake and she again got to blow out her candle (this was a bit of a novelty considering that the past two years her birthdays were spent at the hospital with Lynnea and we weren't allowed to light candles in the family room for her). She had a lot of fun. She received many gifts, including a cowgirl outfit (various pieces given by different people...I'm impressed at how coordinated it is) that looks adorable on her. Here are some pictures from her parties, and her in her cowgirl outfit.
Friday, March 25, 2011
When I Grow Up...
Ashlyn has been very opinionated lately about what she wants to be when she grows up (which, according to her, is when she is 10 years old). For a while she wanted to be a doctor or a nurse, and then she wanted to be a firefighter and an artist. Lately, she has decided that she wants to be a Mommy and a Chef at Denny's. She is determined that being a Chef at Denny's would be wonderful because then she would get to cook scrambled eggs, and she wants to be a Mommy because then she would be in charge of her babies and they would have to follow her rules.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Interesting Grammar
As Ashlyn's language development continues, I've noticed that she comes up with some interesting verb conjugations. (Leave it to me, the English major, to notice things like this...) She handles regular verbs just fine, easily using the correct verb tense in pretty much every situation, but the irregular verbs still throw her off a bit most of the time. My favorite word that she uses all the time lately is "sawn" which seems to be a form of the verb "to see." I think it is a combination between the past tense, "saw," and the past perfect tense, "have seen." She uses it in sentences all the time, sometimes as "sawn" and sometimes "have sawn." For example, "Mommy, I sawn your book before -- it was on the couch." Or, "I have sawn this episode of Word World before." Obviously, I can't resist correcting her every time with the hope that eventually she'll understand that "sawn" isn't really a word...for now, when I correct her, she usually just gives me a completely confused look and continues talking about whatever it was that she was saying before I interrupted her to try give her a lesson in grammar that she's not interested in.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
8 Months
Today marks eight months since Lynnea died, though my thoughts today have been on other moments. Three years ago at some point during the first week in March (I don't remember the exact date), we learned that Lynnea would enter our lives. Of course, we didn't know anything about her yet at the time -- we only knew that a baby was coming in about nine months, and that the baby would be a blessing in our lives. And, every moment with her was a blessing.
Two years ago, on March 5, 2009, Lynnea coded. I remember sitting in a rocking chair in the hallway in the PICU outside the door to Lynnea's room with Ashlyn sitting on my lap while Lynnea went into cardiac arrest, and Ashlyn proceeded to throw up all over me. As a parent, I have never felt more helpless than I did in that moment: helpless as my baby fought for her life; helpless as my toddler puked all over me.
Last year, on March 5, Lynnea was still in the PICU after having heart surgery on Feb. 8. She was still on the ventilator, still running fevers, still not doing well at all. As hard as it was to sit there and watch her suffer that day, my heart was breaking for Riley's family because they had lost their son only four days earlier, and the PICU was not the same without him. It also served as a harsh reminder that not all children get to go home from the PICU -- sometimes children die, and the reality hit me that, if it could happen to Riley, it could just as easily happen to Lynnea.
I am grateful that this year I did not spend March 5th sitting in the PICU watching my baby suffer. Yes, I wish that she were still here with me. Yes, I miss her in a way that words cannot even begin to describe. Yes, the tears still fall often when I think about how quiet my house is without her here. But there is also a tremendous amount of relief knowing that she is pain-free in heaven, and that my days of sitting by helplessly as I watch her suffer are over.
Two years ago, on March 5, 2009, Lynnea coded. I remember sitting in a rocking chair in the hallway in the PICU outside the door to Lynnea's room with Ashlyn sitting on my lap while Lynnea went into cardiac arrest, and Ashlyn proceeded to throw up all over me. As a parent, I have never felt more helpless than I did in that moment: helpless as my baby fought for her life; helpless as my toddler puked all over me.
Last year, on March 5, Lynnea was still in the PICU after having heart surgery on Feb. 8. She was still on the ventilator, still running fevers, still not doing well at all. As hard as it was to sit there and watch her suffer that day, my heart was breaking for Riley's family because they had lost their son only four days earlier, and the PICU was not the same without him. It also served as a harsh reminder that not all children get to go home from the PICU -- sometimes children die, and the reality hit me that, if it could happen to Riley, it could just as easily happen to Lynnea.
I am grateful that this year I did not spend March 5th sitting in the PICU watching my baby suffer. Yes, I wish that she were still here with me. Yes, I miss her in a way that words cannot even begin to describe. Yes, the tears still fall often when I think about how quiet my house is without her here. But there is also a tremendous amount of relief knowing that she is pain-free in heaven, and that my days of sitting by helplessly as I watch her suffer are over.
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