New Doors Opening

Change. It's never been something I'm good at dealing with. I'm pretty certain that any person with anxiety can relate.

I try to be as go-with-it as I can, but it's never easy. And tomorrow is a day of change around here, so of course tonight is a struggle for me.

It's not necessarily a bad change. Dustin is starting a new job with a new company, and leaving a company he has enjoyed working for and that has treated him well since he started there. There are many pros to this new job, and he is happy, and that's what I want...the people I love to be happy. So it's a good thing.

But it changes my routine and that, of course, throws this anxious momma for a loop. Nothing huge, just a change from him working 2nd shift to 1st. In all reality, it will probably be a change that I love, because family dinners through the week can exist again, and I may possibly get some help on bath nights and with homework.

I just get comfortable in my ways, and anything that throws that off sets off alarms in my head that are hard to shut down.

Looking back, change has mostly always proven to be good to me.

Over 9 years ago (has it seriously been that long?!) was probably the biggest change for me. I went from being a carefree 20 year old who worked full time and supported myself, enjoyed all of life and thought I knew what love was.

Then, I found out I was pregnant with my precious Makenna. That changed everything. I was scared, and I was doubted, and I was hurt. I discovered I didn't know what love was yet after all. Until she was born, and I held her, and I knew every single ounce of pain, every tear shed, and every bit of change was completely 100% worth it. She was meant to be my little girl, and I was meant to be her mom.

Sure, it was out of the regular "order" of things in life, but it opened my eyes to things I had been so blind to before. She made me a better person, through and through. She was worth it, and she was my life.

Then there was Dustin. Another huge change. Someone from my past who unexpectedly came back into my life at the right time, but things weren't easy. Things were complicated. Life changed.

But from that change came Kaisyn. Spunky, looks just like her daddy, silly but such a sweetheart. She made me realize I could love another child like I loved Makenna. Before her, I thought I could never love anyone that much, ever again. But she proved me wrong, and showed me my heart was plenty big enough to love her just as much, and then have my love for both girls multiply, over and over again.

Life had changed. My friends had changed. I couldn't be so carefree anymore, so I didn't get to see my friends as much, and I shed tears. But then my girls would make me laugh and look at me with so much love, and I knew I was created specifically for them. To raise them, and teach them, and hold their hands as they grew. I was happy with my change.

Out of nowhere, when we expected it the least, we found out we were pregnant again. How?! I was on birth control...I had a 3.5 month old daughter...there was no way.

We went to crisis pregnancy center, and again, I was terrified. This was too much change. They did an ultrasound, and there they were....not one, but two babies. My twins. The twins I wrote stories about growing up, and pretended to have and to be when I played barbies as a kid. The twins I dreamed of but never thought could be reality. Reality smacked me in the face that day.

2012.

I lost my grandfather, had my twins 2 months early, then lost my grandmother, all in 6 weeks time. I grew up blessed with 4 of the most incredible grandparents you could ever picture. I mean ones every child wishes they had. My idea of perfect. And Grandmom was so excited for my boys, and I was crushed when she didn't get to meet them.

Change. So much had changed.

But still, I kept going, and was blessed, and found happiness, and thought life had finally decided to let me be.

And Khoen died, and that change cut me to the core, and I thought I'd never stand again.

Yet here I am, still standing, still living day by day. I don't know how, but I'm here, and everyday I manage to smile at something.

Those smiles are blessing from my other 3 children. They are what gets me through each and every day.

Life has changed so much, and yet my children are happy and healthy, and their little hearts are full of love. They know they are beautiful, and oh so loved.

There were other little changes along the way, too, that impacted my life in such positive ways. When Kaisyn was 2, I decided to put her in Bethesda UMCs children's program, and she did so much better than I could have imagined. We were blessed with the best teacher and administrator we could have had.

Financially, we couldn't keep her there at the time, another change that was hard to swallow at the time. But, had she never gone, I probably wouldn't have the opportunity to babysit the sweet little boy  that I get to love on each week. I wouldn't have known that family, and now I can't imagine that, because that little boy is just another thing that makes me look forward to getting up each morning. He is such a blessing to our lives, and I'm so thankful his parents trust me to love him while they work.

So change hasn't always been bad, even when it seemed so at the time.

Tonight, since I was feeling anxious, I decided to look back at old pictures and videos of the kids, and it hit me yet again just how big they are getting. Those baby voices and chubby cheeks are gone, and I now have 2 smart, independent children who don't need me quite as much as they did yesterday. Each day, they can do just a little more without my hand to guide them. But I will hold on as long as I possibly can, and treasure each little moment and memory with them.

So as of tomorrow, I won't have Dustin here in the mornings. My safety blanket of knowing he is here will be gone, but he will be home for dinner, and I pray once my anxious mind realizes that, it will calm down and let me get some much needed rest.

I'm thankful for the opportunity to continue to homeschool Kaisyn, and for the friends who help me through the week when I need it to make that possible, and allow me to keep other children in my home as well. I'm thankful for friends who love my children and myself, even at our worst times.

I'm thankful for friends who will help me clean my house for hours, and reorganize over and over until it's how I want it.

I'm thankful for friends who will help me search for my phone for half an hour on a completely crazy day, and find it for me in the drawer with my kitchen utensils, since I decided to clean it up when I cleaned up from making lunch for 5 kids.

I'm thankful for my husband who does work hard so I can stay home, and who loves me even when I am being completely undeserving.

Those 3. Those 3 people, those 2 friends and my husband, they are my backbone. They help me through my crazy when I can't see my way out. I love them and am so blessed to have them.

My 4 children. They are my smiles, and my laughter, and my crazy. There aren't words to adequately express the amount of love I have for them. It's infinite.

My baby (I claim him as my baby, even if it's only part of the day Monday through Friday). He is my smile, and what makes me not dread Monday's quite so much. I just love him so much, and am so blessed.

And the twins I'm keeping now, and the friend who trusts me with them, they have kept me laughing and helped me through something I didn't think I could overcome. They are the twins who were born a year to the day from when Khoen and Mikah were born. Exact same birthdays, just a year apart. I was a bad friend to their mom after they were born, I admit that and I hate it. But it was so hard to face twins period, and I was scared to face them because I was scared it would hurt. Then, the opportunity to keep them was there, and there was no fear. Just change, and such a good one. They've made me realize I can face not just them, but any twins, and not completely fall apart. I'm thankful in a way words can't even explain.

So change isn't always bad. Sometimes hard, but sometimes for the best. So I'll try to quiet my anxious mind and my nervous heart, and pray for peace, and a smooth transition into a new routine. 💕

Let's be honest, I'm only human...

Greed. Hate. Anger. Resentment.

Human emotions that we are all guilty of, whether we want to admit it or not. So many times, we look at others, and thoughts cross our minds that we know shouldn't. Because, who are we to judge?

I know I personally can judge no one. I am far from perfect. I have made my mistakes....probably much more than my fair share of them.

I'll start with greed. I don't care who you are, you have at some point in your life been greedy, or had a greedy thought cross your mind. Most of them are just that, innocent thoughts. But sometimes they determine decisions we make.

Let me put the definition out there...

Greed: intense and selfish desire for something, especially wealth, power, or food.

I'm so guilty of greed. It's no secret that we live pretty much paycheck to paycheck. Yes, we find ways to do special things for our children, but it isn't without budgeting and deciding when and what we can do. And I've looked at others who have their own homes, and can afford Disney World vacations, and thought geez, that's so unfair. Why can't that be me?

GREED. Whenever I have those thoughts, I bring myself back down to earth. What decisions did I make that led me to where I am today? I didn't finish college; guilty. I had my first daughter before I was married, and before I was mature enough to fully comprehend everything that motherhood would entail; guilty. I got married young and had more children, before we were financially sound enough to afford the lifestyle I am looking at with greed; guilty. So, who am I to be greedy? I made my decisions, and I take responsibility for them. Only I can answer for the choices I made.

So instead, I pray for forgiveness, and thank God for blessing those who are more fortunate in ways than my family may be. I teach my children not to be greedy, and to be thankful for what they have. Yes, they may WANT more, but they have everything they NEED, plus some. They are well taken care of, and much more fortunate than some children in this world.

Next up, hate. I'm not going to lie here either, I HATE the word hate. I don't allow my children to say it.

Hate is defined as feeling intense or passionate dislike for someone or something.

I do believe that I can honestly say that I hate no one. There are people who I disagree with their decisions and choices, but I don't hate them. I never will. But, I am guilty of hating some of the things that this world has come to.

Oddly enough, I am finding it hard to even type the word hate in this paragraph, because my dislike of that word is that intense.

I strongly dislike what some children are exposed to, and therefore unknowingly expose my children to. Children are innocent, and they only know what they are shown by the adults that they trust. And there are things that I would like to keep my children from knowing until they are old enough to understand it.

Call it sheltering them if you'd like. I don't consider it that. I want to preserve their innocence and their imagination for as long as I can. I don't want my children to know that drugs exist, or that the world is becoming such a scary place. I can honestly say that my 7 year old has never seen an episode of Monster High, doesn't own any Bratz dolls, and still prefers to watch Paw Patrol with her brother and sister as opposed to shows that other children her age are watching. And I'm ok with that. Do I think its wrong that other parents allow it? Absolutely not. I believe that every parent knows their child best, and knows what they are mentally capable of processing. Therefore only a parent can make those decisions for their child.

But I love that Makenna can pretend so vividly, and believes in unicorns and fairytales, and that all of her dreams can come true. I'm not perfect at parenting, but I do my best for my children.


And, since I'm being honest here, I admit that I do hate anxiety and phobias. I struggle with emetophobia, and for those who know me, you know what that is, I'm sure. For those who don't, its a fear of vomit. Yes, its a real thing. No, it's not a joke. And yes, it sounds hilarious, but when you are an actual emetophobic, I can promise you it is no laughing matter at all. And yes, it's much different than just not liking it when people throw up...I mean I will run away from you, probably screaming, and not return until I have a face mask and gloves. Just ask my husband. ;)

Yes, this interferes at times with my parenting. But, I do my best daily to deal with and overcome my fear and my anxieties. And it only makes me more thankful for the people who I know I can count on to come when I need them, and who support me the best way that they can.

That got a little off topic, but you get the point.

Oh, anger...how many times we have had to encounter one another. It can be so hard to control anger at times.

Anger is defined as a strong feeling of annoyance, displeasure, or hostility.

Please, tell me you have kids and have never gotten angry with them. I dare you. It's how we handle anger that matters, and I will also admit that I haven't always handled it the way that I should.

I've yelled. I've lost my temper. More times than I'm proud of. And not just to my children. And, I also admit that I became a much more angry person after Khoen died. Am I looking for an excuse for my anger, or for pity? Absolutely not. Like I said, I'm just being honest.

Sometimes I even find myself getting angry at things that don't even concern me. Someone may make a comment about how twins are hard work, and someone is lucky to have only had one baby rather than two....cue my anger. Should I be angry at that? Nope. But am I? Oh yes. Why? Because, in my human, irrational mind, I would love nothing more than to have my twins back. Would I also think that they were hard work? Sure! And I probably wouldn't have appreciated the struggles as much as I should have.

But, Khoen died, and I didn't get a lot of the chances that I felt like I was entitled to, and I got angry. In reality, I wasn't entitled to anything. Only God knows how many days we each have on this earth, and it took me losing my son to realize that. To realize that you really do have to make the most of what you're given.

But, that doesn't mean that I don't still get angry. I get angry when I've said 15 times in 5 minutes to clean up the little cubes that the kids love to pretend are anything and everything, and that hurt your feet something awful if you step on them....and instead of cleaning, they are still laughing and playing and being kids. I get angry when I ask my husband to do something to help out around the house and he agrees, and I wake up the next day to find that I have to do it myself.

Does that mean I love my husband or children any less? Not at all! But, I'm human, and I get angry. Everyone does.

Last, resentment. This one ties into the others, but it's been a HUGE struggle for me.

Resentment is bitter indignation at having been treated unfairly.

I've already admitted that I became a more angry person when Khoen died. But more so, I became a resentful person.

Sure, I'm guilty also of resenting little things...like people with huge backyards for their kids to play in, people who can comfort their kids while they puke without feeling like the world is ending...you know, crazy little things that I shouldn't even have to admit.

But, my main struggle has been my resentment towards anyone and everyone with twins. This has made me feel like a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad person. And I mean that.

But let me get this straight....I do not resent the fact that other people have twins, I resent the fact that I only have one of mine here.

Oddly enough, I am also obsessed with twins, and if I ever hear of something bad happening to a twin I have to constantly check to make sure they are both ok. I know, it's confusing in my own mind, too.

I have a friend I've never even met, but I call her a friend, who lives states away and has twin girls, and they mean more to me than I can put into words. It doesn't hurt me to look at their pictures, because I am just so glad they are both here, and healthy. One of them had cancer, and was very sick, and the thought of their mother knowing the pain that I know was terrifying. So to know she is better and can now be a regular kid with her twin sister is an amazing feeling.

I have let this resentment interfere with friendships. Friends that have had twins after me, I struggle to be around. I sometimes have a panic attack if I know twins are going to be somewhere that I'm going.

I can only relate it to the fact that it makes me face my reality, and sometimes I think my mind tries to hide from that reality. So when I am forced to see what I should still have, it hurts, and its scary.

But, I love twins. I think they are an incredible blessing to anyone who is lucky enough to have them. And, if you have twins, I don't want you to think you have to avoid me at all costs, because you really don't. Part of my fear is that I will cry around twins, which will then make the parents feel guilty, which will then make me feel even more guilty, and its just a downhill spiral. So if you have twins and are around me, please know I don't love you any less, nor your children. And that if I cry, it's only because I miss my own son, and the memories we could have had. It's not because you upset me.

You may think that I sound like a horrible, mean person, but I'm really not. I've just been through things that have changed the ways that I think about life. Some in positive ways, and some still in negative ways that I'm doing my best to overcome.

One thing is a sure fact though....greed, hate, anger, and resentment all tend to lead to one thing: regret.

I regret so many things. I regret decisions that I made as a teenager that changed the way people who had known me forever looked at me. I regret taking life for granted. There are people I have hurt in my past, and I regret that as well.

Some people say to have no regrets, because your decisions made you who you are. I agree to an extent, because the things I regret did change my ways. They changed they way I think, act, speak to others, and my relationship with God. And although I am thankful for that, I still regret them.

The mistakes that I have made help me to teach my children mistakes that they should not make. And I can't guarantee that they won't, but I can pray they don't.

And even though I struggle with these things, I am happy with my life. I can see how blessed I am, even when I feel I don't deserve to be. I pray that those I have hurt in the past truly can forgive me, and know that I am not the same person I once was.

By the way, I also have trouble being open and letting people see this side of me, because it's a side that I struggle with on a daily basis. But I want to be a better person, and I know this is a step in that direction.

All I can do is take life one step at a time; one day at a time; and thank God for everything that He has given me. Thank Him for His forgiveness, time and time again. Thank Him for His faithfulness, in never leaving my side when I need Him the most. I thank Him for the family and friends He has surrounded me with. And thank Him for the gift of motherhood, and every moment that has come with it.

<3

Here Comes 1st Grade & Pre-K3!

It's time for a new school year! I can't believe I am now the mommy of a 1st grader! 

Wait...is that really even possible? It seems like just yesterday Makenna was a tiny little baby, still relying on me fully to make it through her days. 

Now that sweet little baby has grown into a spunky, energetic, independent little 6 year old. She has the best imagination, and loves everything and everyone. She is passionate, and is an amazing big sister. I couldn't be more proud!

We are excited for this upcoming school year, and have decided that we will continue to home-school as a family. We aren't actually starting our school year until we get back from vacation mid-September. 

The kids (and us parents, too!) can't wait for our beach trip! It's been years since we have been able to go to the beach for an entire week, and we will be doing that the 2nd week of September. It's a much anticipated, and deserved, trip! 

But, when we do return, we will start our 2014-2015 school year, and are excited to incorporate Kaisyn and Mikah into the school routine, too! 

Kaisyn has grown up so much in the last year, and she continues to amaze me every day. Of all of my kids, she is the most dramatic, opinionated, and tender-hearted. She is sensitive, sassy, and has a heart of gold. She loves very deeply, until you tell her no or hurt her feelings. Then, she will let you know you have upset her, and sounds more like a 13 year old than a 3 year old! 

Kaisyn will be doing a pre-K3 program here at home. She absolutely loves to "do school", and asks daily if we get to start school today. She is very smart, and learns quickly. I don't plan to be strict and force her to do more than she is ready to do, since she is still so young. But, while she is excited to learn and wants to participate in school daily, I plan to make it as fun as possible while giving her the best head start that I can! 

But, we will have to see just how much this little diva will actually let me teach her, before she starts trying to teach me! ;) 

As for Mikah, I am hoping that seeing the girls doing their schoolwork will make him interested as well. I won't force him, either, since he is only 2. But the curriculum I am using for Kaisyn incorporates so many fun little learning games, I am hoping that he will start to pick up things from it, and enjoy it daily as well! 

Mikah is also very smart, like his big sisters, but he is much more energetic than the girls. It's quite a feat to try and get him to sit still for any period of time! And, if you take your eyes off of him for a second, you are bound to find him getting into something that he shouldn't! 

I guess I can call it "creativity", but that little boy will find a way to get anything he wants. We had brownies in the kitchen not too long ago, and I had them in the pan, covered in plastic wrap and foil, and out of reach of all 3 of the kids. Mikah was sitting at the little table in the kitchen coloring, while the girls and I were reading a book in the living room, just around the corner. He was super quiet, so I snuck around to peek at him, only to find that he had built himself a ladder (his little chair, then a bigger kitchen table chair), and was sitting on the counter eating the brownies. He had managed to move the chairs so slowly that we never even heard him! Sneaky, sneaky, sneaky!

Back in May, we went to the beach for a long weekend. We came back on a Sunday, and Dustin returned to work the next day, leaving me to unpack. I got up before the kids, and went ahead and showered. After my shower, I got the kids up, and let them play for a few minutes while I finished getting ready. Mikah had ventured into my room, where all of our luggage still was, and was just sitting on my bed talking to me. We had taken all of our medicine in a little cooler, and it was still with all of the luggage, in the corner of our bedroom. 

I walked back into the bathroom to put on lotion, and was in there for honestly maybe 30 seconds to a minute. When I came back out, Mikah was sitting facing the wall, and I asked him what he was doing, just being silly. I figured he was just trying to hide, and didn't think he could have possibly been up to something that quickly. 

When he turned around, he proceeded to hand me an EMPTY box of Sudafed (which had been over half full when he found it). He had eaten 11 12-hour, slow release sudafed tablets. I absolutely panicked! He was acting fine at the time, but then again they were slow release, and he had just eaten them. I had no clue what to do, so I called poison control, who told me to hang up immediately and call 911. 

Within minutes, 2 different ambulances pulled up, and 2 paramedics looked over Mikah while the other 2 had to search our bedroom to make sure he hadn't just hidden the pills. We didn't find any of them, so Mikah, the girls, and I all got to take a very expensive ride in an ambulance to the local hospital. 

Even though I was a complete mess, and feeling like the absolute worst mother in the entire world, the kids loved the ambulance! The girls thought it was the best thing ever, and Mikah still talks about it today. He wasn't to thrilled while he was in it, though, because he had to stay hooked up to the pulse-ox machine, and was strapped to that bed. 

At the hospital, Mikah basically just ended up getting extremely "high", and it was terrifying to see as his mother. He was seeing things that weren't there, and couldn't sit up without falling over. He had to drink a yummy chocolate milk and charcoal "milkshake", which he loved somehow, and that helped soak up the rest of the medicine in his stomach. Then it was just an 8-hour wait, to make sure he didn't have any other side effects, and that he was less out of it. And after a good, long nap, the sillies were gone and he was back to his smiley self, thank God! 

Needless to say, with Mikah, I can't even take a potty-break without taking him with me. He is adventurous, care-free, and completely fearless! But, he is also one of the sweetest and most loving little boys. 

My favorite part about homeschooling is watching day to day what my kids are learning. It's an amazing feeling to watch them accomplish something new, and see the pride and joy in their eyes, and know that you are the one that taught it to them. And I've learned this statement to be very, very true: God doesn't call the equipped, He equips the called. 

I have patience, yes, but no more than any other mother out there. And do I need a break sometimes?! More than you know! Everyone does! But, when I lost Khoen, I was forced to face the reality that tomorrow is never promised. Not for me, not for my kids, not for anyone. We can only appreciate every little moment today, and be ready for when we are called home. 

Therefore, I enjoy being able to spend my days with my children, and teaching them the things they will need to know as they grow up. I enjoy teaching them about love, about respect, and about God, and why we love Him. 

I feel blessed to have to opportunity to watch my babies grow into independent children. And I can't wait to watch what this year will hold, and see where our adventures will take us. 

Here's to an amazing school year for everyone! :)

I Can Only Imagine.

"I can only imagine
What it will be like,
When I walk
By your side.
I can only imagine
What my eyes will see,
When your face
Is before me."

Tonight, driving home in the car alone, I heard this song for the millionth time. And, once again, as it has multiple times recently, it made me cry.

Today has been a day full of little reminders of Khoen. Well, some little and some huge. All of my kids are signed up for the Toys R Us Birthday Club, and not ever thinking that I would lose one of my children, of course the twins were signed up as well when they were born.

We are only 13 days away from February 7. From my boys' 2nd birthdays. I can't even type those words without tears. I'm not ready. We got in the mail today both of their Birthday Club envelopes, with little $3 off coupons inside. One addressed to Mikah, and one to Khoen.

It's so hard to figure out what I want and need to do in these situations. With the girls, its always an exciting, "Yay, look! We can use this and take you on your birthday to pick a special prize!" And with Mikah its the same. But, what do I do with Khoens? I feel guilty just cancelling Khoens and keeping Mikahs. Not to mention, it isn't exactly easy to call or email people and tell them that he died, so we don't need to get these anymore. In a way, as much as it hurts sometimes, it's nice to be reminded that other people know he was real, too. People who don't even know him.

But, its hard to get a letter addressed to him in the mail and not have him here to give it to. I want to badly to see him now. I want to know what his hair would be like...brown like it was at birth, or blonde like Mikahs. Curly like Kaisyns, or straight like Makennas. I just want to know all the little details of his personality, like I do the other kids. I want to hold him. I want to hug him. I want to watch him blow out his candles and eat his cake. And sometimes it just hurts.

Driving with Makenna today, we saw a funeral procession right near where Khoen is buried. We stopped of course, out of respect, and she had her regular hundred questions about why we were stopping when the stoplight was green. I explained to her that it was a funeral, and that's why all the cars had their flashers on.

"Like Khoen's funeral, mommy?"

I told her that yes, it was just like that. That family had someone that they love very much go to Heaven, and they are going to the cemetery like we did for Khoen.

"Will they see Khoen at the cemetery, mommy? Will they stop and say hey to him?"

I told her they may, but that they may not know who Khoen is. They are thinking of their loved one today, and that's ok.

"I think they should go see Khoen, mommy. They would love him, like I do. I miss him, mommy."

I miss him too. So incredibly much.

Then I heard that song, and again I thought of little Khoen. I thought of how amazing it must have been to close your eyes to sleep, and wake up to see Jesus' face. Sometimes my earthly mind makes me wonder if he was scared. If he was sad that he was leaving us, and if he was afraid to not have his mommy. But I know he wasn't. I'm sure he wasn't.

I thought of Grandmom and Grandad up in Heaven. I thought again of how excited Grandmom had been about the twins. I thought about how much she wanted to meet them. I thought about how tightly she must have hugged him, and how happy he must have been to meet her. I know Grandad has made him a Carolina fan, too, even from Heaven, and even against his daddy's Duke-loving ways.

Sometimes it still hurts a lot, too, to think of how much Grandmom would have loved Mikah, and how much he would adore her. And Kaisyn would, too. She was too little to remember them, and it hurts, because they were such important people to me.

But I know that we will see them again. I know that when they get to Heaven, they will know who Grandmom and Grandad are, and they will recognize Khoen, too. And someday I will get to see my twins side by side again, as they should be.

I'm not sure yet how I am going to get through their birthday weekend. I'm really not. I wish I could say that I feel stronger this year than I did last year, so I will be just fine. But, that would be a lie. I feel more scared this year than I did last year. I am just not ready. There are so many sets of twins around me, and as fun as it is to watch them grow up, its so hard sometimes. That should have been me, too. That should have been my boys.

My girls are best friends. They share a room, they laugh and giggle. They play barbies and mermaids, and dress up together. They are always telling Mikah he can't play because hes a boy. Of course I have tried to help them play with him, too, and they do. They adore him, as he does them. But, I feel like he is missing his best friend. He should have a roommate, too. He should have someone to play cars with, and to fight with, and to get into trouble with.

My heart just hurts tonight.

I am praying for the strength to get through the weekend of the 7th. I honestly don't know if I will make it out of the house. I feel terrible for having nothing planned for Mikah yet again, and having no presents bought yet. I've tried, and I just start feeling sick and overwhelmed, and I have to stop.

I am planning to do a joint party for him and Kaisyn at the beginning of March, since their birthdays aren't that far apart. We've planned on Mickey and Minnie for a while now, since he is obsessed with anything and everything Mickey Mouse, and Kaisyn absolutely loves her Minnie Mouse! Hopefully after I make it through Mikah and Khoens birthday, I will be able to pull myself back together and get it planned and ready.

I know I will make it through. I know that I am not alone, and that He will carry me through. But I admit that I am scared. I am back to the no-sleep and nightmares, and feeling sick all the time. I have headaches everyday, and I know its from stressing myself out. I have pulled away from people that I love, and I don't mean it to hurt anyone. I have just had to focus 100% of my energy on my family in order to make sure I am giving them the best of me, which sometimes I still feel isn't good enough.

That's where the other song I heard tonight comes in.

"You're beautiful. You're beautiful.
You are made for so much more than all of this.
You're beautiful. You're beautiful.
You are treasured, You are sacred, You are His.
You're beautiful."

I know that if I raise my children to know that they are beautiful, they are treasured in His eyes as well as mine, that I will have done something right. As long as they know they are deserving of Heaven, they are made for Heaven, they are made for more than this world can ever bring them, I will have done my best for them.

Beyond the hurt, beyond the tears, I am blessed. I know that. I have 3 absolutely amazing children asleep in their beds right now, and one precious, perfect little angel whom has been closeby me all night. I am blessed. And I can't thank the Lord enough for that.

I will be ok. I will make it through Khoens birthday, and I will find stronger days again.

I'll do it for Makenna, Kaisyn, Mikah, and my sweet Khoen. <3

Snuggles.

My sick kids saga continues. But, my eyes have once again been reopened. 

When Mikah first began throwing up! we attributed it to his cough from having the croup! and it may well have been just that. But, he was given a steroid shot which helped his croup tremendously, and he continued to throw up daily when he was given solid food.

Monday, he woke up feeling rotten, with an upset stomach from the start, and was totally lethargic and pitiful. We gave him something to drink, and it was in his diaper in a matter of minutes. When that started to slow down, we stuck with pedialyte for hours until he was asking for food. I figured he had a stomach bug on top of everything else, so we stuck with strict BRAT diet, and only gave him toast. Immediately after eating one piece, his entire stomach contents was emptied onto poor Victoria, the chair, and the rug....then a second time on the carpet within seconds. 

But after, he begged for food again. Tuesday, he woke up smiling and without nasty diapers, so I was hopeful he was improving. Tried a BRAT breakfast, but it didn't stay down. He drank and it stayed in just fine, and he was starving, so we tried another BRAT lunch. Again, in the middle of eating, it was everywhere. By this point, he was down almost 3 pounds, begging for food that wouldn't stay in, and absolutely pitiful. If called the doctor, and made him an appointment for Wednesday morning. 

When he woke up yesterday, he was not himself at all. He was completely lethargic, wouldn't stand, wouldn't smile, wouldn't speak....and I was scared. We went to the doctor, and he agreed that this wasn't right. Stomach bugs usually start with uncontrollable puking, then end with an upset tummy, and usually  are accompanied by appetite loss and fever. Mikah had thrown up when eating for 7 days straight. But, only when eating and no other time. 

He sent us over to Levines, where we didn't have to wait in the ER and were taken straight back, thank God. It took 6 pokes to successfully get an IV in because he was so dehydrated at this point. His blood sugar was extremely low, and they gave him sugar before IV fluids to try and bring it up. His body was too acidic, and they were hopeful a round of IV fluids would flush that out too. It was after another round of labs and a urine sample, along with a still puny baby that wouldn't even hold his head up, that they told me he was being admitted and they were moving us upstairs to our home on the 10th floor. 

Being in a hospital is no fun, especially with a little one who has no clue what is going on. And all I could think of was being in Hemby with Khoen, just 2 weeks before he passed away. As overwhelming as watching your baby be poked, cathed, and miserable is, add the thoughts of "Wow, this is just like what happened to Khoen" into the mix, and it created an emotional mess of a momma. Khoen was admitted for lethargy...puking...just feeling rotten. And now here I sat with Mikah. 

Originally, they were sending us to Hemby, and I broke down in front of our absolutely amazing pediatrician. I told him that honestly, I didn't think I could go stay there overnight with Mikah. He understood, and didn't question a bit, and called Levines instead. Love that doctor. 

Needless to say, by today Mikah had seen enough nurses to last him a lifetime, and he was DONE. He is grumpy, and continuously tried to pull out his own IV. He has fought temperature checks, screamed bloody murder when taking his pulse and oxygen, and lost his voice over having multiple more blood draws because the acidic levels just weren't going down like the doctors wanted. 

I sit here now thinking about all of this. And, as crazy as this sounds, I ask myself if I have given myself a chance to enjoy this time with Mikah. Have I truly thanked God for just letting him be here in my arms, and thanking Him for the extra cuddles? Have I been too caught up in the "I can't handle this" mindset to fully be there for Mikah? 

That, too, just takes me back to Khoen. The last day I spent with him, he was fussy. But, Khoen was fussy, so I thought it was normal. I thought I just had him spoiled rotten, which I did. Did I truly let myself enjoy the snuggles that day, or did I just want to throw my hands up and say, "I can't make him stop crying!", and let that take over my state of mind? 

That question breaks my heart, because if I could do it again, I would love on that baby even more than I did (which, I ended up holding him all day...even while Victoria and I dug in the closet for clothes and bags to pack for Charleston). I would have told him 1,000 more times how much I love him, and how special he is, and that it's ok to cry. I'm mommy, and that's why I'm here. I'm here to comfort you when you just want to scream. I'm here to hold you until the ouchies are all gone. Did I make Khoen feel that that last day? 

Does Khoen know that I left, not because I wanted to leave him and his brother, but because I needed to reassure the girls that I am still their mommy, too, and they still mean the world to me as well? Does he think I just disappeared, and didn't tell him goodnight the night he closed his eyes for the last time? 

I try so hard not to ever let these questions cross my mind. But, Mikah being put in the hospital made them all come up. Sometimes, my life overwhelms me. Listening to Mikah scream, "Mommy, hold you!", as he cries at the top of his lungs because he wants me to hold him...but nurses have to hold him down to put an IV in his foot because all 5 pokes in his arms and hands were unsuccessful, is more than I could take. I cried. Then, when it was over, I held him close until he was ok. 

My point is this: When life gets overwhelming, and you feel like you need to be on the crazy floor because you can't take seeing your kids in pain, or can't handle what's going on....just thank God that you have them in your arms. Hold them as close as you can, and just let them cry. Cry with them if you have to, just be thankful for that moment with them, as hard as it can be. 

As mommy, I can't necessarily make this go away, but I can promise Mikah and my girls that I will always be here through the hardest times and the tears, just to hold them and give them all of my love. And I pray that Khoen knows I would do the same for him. 

Tonight, I'm thankful for the snuggles I got back in May of 2012 with Khoen! sleeping in that not-so-comfy hospital bed, yet having the most comforting nights of my life. Because then, Khoen was here, and I was here for Khoen. 

Stay closeby tonight, sweet Khoen. I feel that tug...you hugging my heart. 

Thank you, Lord, for my kids. <3

Setting my burden's free.

Is it summer again yet?! I am over the cool/cold weather...my little ones absolutely cannot get these yucky germs out of their systems!

Mikah got sick well over a month ago, then Kaisyn, then Makenna, then Mikah again. All with nasty colds, which of course were transferred to mommy, too!

Everyone recovered but Mikah, who ended up with a bad ear infection and feeling terrible. As soon as we started to get him better, Kaisyn got his cold AGAIN.

We were all well and healthy again for a little over a week, when Mikah started running a fever again. He had yet another ear infection, but some antibiotics cleared him up. Then it was Makenna with the fever again starting last Wednesday. She had a sore throat, but no strep, and ran a fever through Saturday. Saturday morning, Kaisyn woke up throwing up, and has had a nasty tummy since. And today, after Makenna woke up with a tummy ache, Mikah woke up with ANOTHER fever.

No kidding, I feel like I am going insane. We absolutely can't catch a break! Makenna was ok by this evening, and should be fine to go to school in the morning. But I am keeping Kaisyn home, because she has still had a yucky tummy and lots of tummy aches today. Its no fun when your 2 year old consistently tells you she needs to "grow up", and goes to stand with her head over the toilet.

Tonight I did manage to get her to do a little dance party with me, which was fun to see. She has laid around most of the day, as well as all weekend, so it was fun to see her smiling again. I am praying so hard that means that she is on the other side of this stuff, and will wake up tomorrow feeling like her happy little sweetest-girl-in-the-world self.

With Mikah, I can't tell if its his ear again, or his back molars. I didn't even consider teeth at first, since he is almost 2, but he has been very grumpy for the past few days, and I gave him a sucker earlier that he literally just chewed with his back gums...where his molars haven't come through yet. So I am curious if the random fever spike and the extreme screaming and clinginess is due to his little teeth hurting him!

If you came into my house right now, you would probably run away screaming. But, its next to impossible to get anything at all done with 3 sick kids. One of them has to be on my lap constantly, or someone is crying, or someone is nauseous, or someone has spiked a fever and needs medicine, or someone is crying because something hurts....it has been never-ending. I have had to say countless prayers for strength, and I admit, I have taken a few "potty breaks" to go into the bathroom and cry my eyes out (for the 2 minutes I can get away) because it feels overwhelming. This is really the first time all 3 have been so sick at the same time, and it's been tough.

It was AMAZING to have Dustin here over the weekend to help with everything, and to keep me sane. But he was back at work today, and thank God I did have some help from my mom this morning, and Victoria this afternoon. You have no clue how much you appreciate a friend coming to sit with your kids so you can shower until you have 3 under 5 that are all super needy on your hands!

Tonight I was held the first meeting for my downline in Origami Owl, which was fun. I am excited to have such an amazing team of ladies, that I can now call my friends. This company has been such a blessing to me, and I am so thankful that Dustin was supportive when I told him I wanted to take this adventure on, and give it a try. It's been a great 11 months with the company!

It's also been such a good outlet for me, and a way to share Khoen's story daily. I have my Khoen locket, that has his picture in the back, and I wear it to all of my events and around daily. That way, whenever anyone asks about my locket, I get to tell them about Khoen, and it makes him feel so much closer to me. I can't even describe that feeling.

Tonight, when I was feeling weak and in need of prayers, a sweet aunt of mine sent me a verse that couldn't have been more relevant to the moment I was in.

Have you never heard or understood? Don't you know that the Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of all the earth? He never grows faint or weary. No one can measure the depths of His understanding. He gives power to those who are tired and worn out; He offers strength to the weak. Isaiah 40:28-29

After almost a full week of at least one child coming into my bed in the middle of the night, either with something hurting or coughing constantly, getting so behind on sleep, feeling overwhelmed by sickness, and being completely stressed out to the point of feeling like breaking down, that's exactly what I needed to hear.

Its amazing sometimes how someone can send you something and it can immediately make you feel differently. I forgot for a moment that I didn't have to carry this around with me. I don't have to shoulder this sickness and my children's extra needs this week on my own. I have someone who is willing to carry me through it all, and shoulder my burdens for me, if I will just turn it over to Him.

And tonight, that is what I am doing, whole-heartedly. He knows when I am too weak, and He knows how to make me feel strong enough to take on the world again.

How lucky is my son to know Him face to face. <3

Remembering Khoen...The Tough Stuff.

**Before I even start writing this, I want to warn people about what this post entails. There are certain things about Khoen, such as pictures from his viewing, that I have never shared before. We chose to make that time a very private time, and we didn't allow people to come and see Khoen at the funeral home unless you were family. During that day, and the days surrounding, we were not in a good place mentally. But for some reason, I feel compelled to share with those who want to see. There is nothing gory, nothing like that. Just pictures from his viewing at the bottom. Please don't judge me, I am a grieving mother, and I am doing the best that I can. And yes, I had a conversation with my husband before starting this blog, to ensure he was ok with what I felt led to do.**

**Also, this was written on October 15, 2013. I just got the nerve to post it.**

Today is October 15, Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day. Had you asked me what October 15 was 2 years ago, I wouldn't have had a clue. I never would have thought that a day such as that could impact me, or that I could be the one in four, the face of Child Loss. Yet, here I am.

And so today, I just want to remember Khoen. There are probably going to be so many things in this blog that are repetitive from previous posts, so if you have followed along from the beginning I apologize for that. But I need to remember everything I can about Khoen tonight.

I admit, sometimes I cry and get scared because I feel like I am forgetting. Not forgetting Khoen, I could never even begin to do that. But, forgetting the little things. Sometimes I have to sit and try really hard to remember how he sounded when he cried; when he cooed; when he sneezed his silly little sneeze. Sometimes I cry because I want to smell him, and I can't. I have his WubbaNub monkey pacifier and some bibs, clothing, and blankets in a storage bag, so that the smell can't escape and I will never lose it. But I find myself scared to unzip the bag...scared that I may accidentally let the last of his scent go. Only a mother who has felt my pain could understand.

As you know from my labor story, I don't remember Khoen being born. I remember having Mikah, and I remember so many doctors and nurses around me, yelling about Khoen's heartrate dropping, and pushing on my belly, and moving me around...and I remember them saying they had to get him out, now. I remember them cleaning my belly. I remember the doctor standing over my with a scalpel, and I remember starting to cry and begging the nurse not to let him cut me until I was asleep (I had absolutely no pain medication, and was terrified). And I remember the nurse telling me just to breathe and count to 10. I don't think I made it past 2.

The next thing I remember is waking up in a small curtained room with just a nurse and Dustin. I remember asking if Khoen was ok, and them telling me he was. But, I couldn't go down and see him or Mikah until I had completely recovered, and anesthesia was totally worn off.

Unfortunately, the cut they made into my belly wasn't a very good one. It was nothing like what the doctors like to see in a C-section. But, their priority was saving Khoen, and that's what mattered. And they did. Khoen Lee McGinnis was born 14 minutes after his twin brother, at 4:59 pm, weighing 4 pounds and 6 ounces, and 18 inches long. And, both boys were healthy. No oxygen, nothing. Perfect. <3

 

 

I didn't get to go and see Khoen that day at all. My doctor wanted to watch my incision, and I wasn't allowed out of bed at all until the next evening. So that is the first time that I was able to go down to the NICU and see my boys.

 

I remember walking into the NICU for the first time. It was so dark, and there were so many isolettes. Khoen was the first isolette, and Mikah was the second. I remember that Khoen had a bald spot on his little head, because at one point the nurses couldn't get an IV into his hand, so they had to put one in his head. I remember rubbing it when I would hold him, and telling him his hair would grow back, and how handsome he was without it.

 

I remember trying to help the boys learn to bottle. Both would have episodes where their heart rates dropped when they would try to eat at first, and it took a while for them to catch on. Mikah caught on a little before Khoen, and almost got released into the NPCU before Khoen. But Khoen wasn't going to let his brother show him up, and caught up in the knick of time, so that they could relocate to the progressive unit together.I remember being so happy, because that meant we could actually hold our boys whenever we wanted to. We could feed them without having to ask, and we could play more of the mommy and daddy role.

 

One thing that stands out in my mind so much is how alert Khoen used to be when I would hold him. He could be so upset in his little isolette, and I would pick him up and he would just stare at me, perfectly content. He would watch me while I talked to him, and sang to him. He was just the most perfect little thing.

 

 

I remember watching him learn and grow, and get closer and closer to coming home with us. I couldn't wait until that day. But Khoen was stubborn. The NPCU rule was that they had to go a full 5 days without any episodes (bradycardias, apnea, etc) in order to be released. Mikah sailed through that, and was released to come home. But, every time we started the countdown with Khoen, we would get to day 3 or 4, and he would brady on us...so we would have to start all the way over.

 

I can remember Dustin and I calling the nursery every single morning after his 6am feeding to see if he had had any events. And I remember crying when they would tell me he had, and they had started him back on day zero.

 

When we were taking Mikah home, they had a man come up and teach us how to use Khoen's monitor. By that time, we had left Mikah in a little longer than needed to try and bring them both home together, and realized that it just wasn't going to happen. And, we knew by then that Khoen's episodes were still frequent enough to require a monitor to come home with him.

 

Before I continue, I want to make something clear. Khoen was NOT sick. This is something that is very common in preemies, and there wasn't something wrong with Khoen from birth. There are so many times that when people hear he was on a monitor, and had been in the hospital, and that he later passed away, they have actually said to me, "Oh, so he was sick. I'm so sorry." NO. NO, NO, NO! Khoen was HEALTHY when he was released from the NPCU. The twins were born at almost 33 weeks, and THIS is why he was still having episodes.

 

Anyways, so there was the man training us on how to use the monitor, and we were just finishing up. I had taken the monitor back off of Khoen, and Dustin was going to change his diaper while I finished getting things together for taking Mikah home. I had to sit down to sign some paperwork, and sat in a chair about 3 feet from where Khoen's bed was. Dustin, not thinking about it, took off his wet diaper, and left him uncovered while he threw it away. That little booger PEED on me, from that far away! It was all over my gown (required to wear in the NICU and NPCU), all over my jeans, everywhere! He really showed up what he thought of Mikah going home before him! ;)

 

When we brought Mikah home, it was the hardest part of the journey with the twins so far. It was difficult to get up to see Khoen as much with Mikah at home. We didn't want to leave him with anyone just yet, so we had to take turns visiting Khoen (which usually meant that mommy went...I couldn't stand going without seeing him for more than a day).

 

During this time, I had a lot of nightmares. The dreams were always about Khoen, and they shook me to my core. I would dream that he was there, in his bed at the hospital, and his monitors would go off saying he had an episode...but they wouldn't be able to get him to snap out of it. In the dreams, his heart rate would drop lower and lower, until it was gone. I could never SEE Khoen in the dreams, only the monitors. I would wake up sweating and crying, and shaking uncontrollably. And, like the good husband he is, Dustin would call the nursery for me (no matter what time it was) to check on him. Every time he was just fine, and having a great night.

 

I thought the dreams then were just due to stress and anxiety, but after losing him, I'm honestly not sure if that was in some way God preparing my heart for what was to come. Either way, it didn't make things easier.

 

And boy oh boy, do I remember the day we were told Khoen could come home! I stayed up at the hospital with him the night before, and my brother-in-law picked Khoen and I up the next day. I was nervous and excited, but just wanted to get the 30 minute ride over with!

 





 

Seeing the boys next to each other was overwhelming and absolutely amazing. They were never able to truly lay side by side in the hospital, just in beds next to each other. So it was incredible to see them feel each other for the first time since they had been born.

 

I have never felt more blessed, happy, and alive than when my 4 kids were at home with me. Yes, life was crazy. I would have to feed both of the twins with one hand, while managing to play with Kaisyn or read to Makenna. I had a board that I kept a schedule on of when each of the kids ate, slept, etc...that way I never got confused with who needed what. And I don't just meant the babies, I mean all 4 of the kids!

 

There were so many good times with Khoen. So many smiles. That little boy had eyes that could just look straight into your soul, and make you feel completely at peace. He had eyes that could see Heaven, and it was truly amazing.

 

 

Khoen had a throaty cry, and it was much more muted than any of my other kids cries. Each of the girls and Mikah have the shrillest screams, and it can literally bust your eardrums. But Khoen's was quiet, and sweet, and such a cute little cry.

 

Khoen did cry a lot, but mainly because he was a very spoiled baby. I feel now that I spoiled him much more than I did Mikah, and its yet another thing that I struggle with. Mikah would be content just laying in the floor and playing on a playmat, while Khoen would cry and want to be held. So, I would hold him.

 

And Khoen had severe reflux, so he had to be held in an upright position when he ate. I figured out a technique to hold him up on my shoulder and hold the bottle basically with my face, so I was the one to feed him 95% of the time.

 

At night, Dustin and I rotated shifts. I am much more of a night person, and he is definitely a morning person. So, I would stay up until the boys 2am feeding, then go to sleep and let him do the 6am feeding. From the time that I fed Khoen at 10, until it was time to feed him again at 2, I held him on my shoulder in the recliner and let him sleep on me. Every night. It was like my special time with him, and one of my favorite parts of my day. We would rotate who fed the boys at other feedings, but I always fed Khoen at night, so that I could get him to sleep. Mikah would fall asleep on his own, so Dustin had the easy job. ;)

 

I remember I would always for some reason look for Khoen's birthmark on his thigh when I was holding him, and it always made me smile. It was his Khoen mark, and I never knew why I thought it was special. I guess I do now, because I didn't know then that I wouldn't see it but for 4 months.

 

While Mikah was the more content, go with the flow, of the two, Khoen was definitely the smilier baby when he was happy. Mikah was very straight-faced, but Khoen would just grin at me. I ate it up.

 

And he made the silliest faces! There were a few times I was able to catch them on camera, and I'm so thankful. Pictures are a funny thing, you know. I used to think I took pictures of the boys CONSTANTLY. Like there was no way I would ever be able to even see all of the pictures I had taken. Yet now, I feel like there isn't nearly enough.

 

When the boys first came home, Kaisyn was very unsure of them. But, she was only a little over 11 months old (and keep in mind, the twins were over a month old when they came home...), so she wasn't sure how to feel, and who can blame her.

 

And another sidenote, for those who don't know, we did not plan to have another baby (or 2!) after Kaisyn. I went on NuvaRing as birth control, and was on it for 3 months when I got pregnant with the twins. And I was ON IT when I got pregnant...I did everything correctly with it. But the twins were a gift from God, and a HUGE blessing to our lives. I wouldn't change a thing.

 

Makenna, on the other hand, she loved the babies. She was all about holding them, and kissing them, and helping out with them. It was so incredible to see.

 

Time passed too quickly, and before we knew it the twins were 3 months old. This was in May, and shortly after they turned 3 months old they got sick for the first time. First it was Mikah...he was so congested and pitiful, he couldn't breathe through his nose at all. We sat with him in a steamy bathroom for half an hour at a time, bought a battery powered suctioner, tried saline drops, everything. He was just miserable.

 

Then, it was Khoen's turn. But, Khoen's cold didn't get too bad, and he seemed to be handling things fine. But one day I had noticed that he just didn't seem himself. I wasn't getting any smiles, and he wasn't very interested in eating. I laid him down for a nap that afternoon, and he went to sleep without a fight, which was very unusual. I ended up checking his temperature, and discovered he had a low grade fever. So, I thought it just had him feeling poorly. He fell asleep around noon, and by 3 he still wasn't waking up, so I called his doctor.

 

They told me they could see him at 4:30 that day, so I took the appointment. My mom came to watch the other kids until Dustin could get home from work, and I left with Khoen. He barely opened his eyes when getting into his carseat, and went straight back to sleep. He had his monitor on, so I would know if he were to stop breathing or anything, which is the only thing that gave me peace of mind.

 

When we got to the office, they took us back and told me to undress him so we could weigh him. The nurse watched as I got him out of his seat, laid him on the table, undressed him, and moved him to the scale, all without him so much as opening his eyes. She asked if that was normal for him, to be such a heavy sleeper, and I told her he was actually the opposite, that's why I was concerned.

 

She didn't even finish weighing him...she just went and for our doctor. He came in and took a look at Khoen; tried to wake him up a little, but would only get a tiny peak of eyes then he was back out. So they sent me straight to Hemby Children's Hospital with him. I was petrified, because I hadn't even considered things could be that bad.

 

Once we were there, he was taken immediately to a room, and a swarm of nurses and doctors came over to look at him. They did bloodwork, and said everything looked fine, so they were just going to monitor him until he was less lethargic. The most we would get was still a little peep of his eyes, and he was back out.

 

By the next morning, he was still no better. He was actually worse, and we could no longer even get him to open his eyes. His soft spot on his head was bulging, so I called the nurse. She ran for the doctor, and they rushed in and took my sweet boy away for an emergency spinal tap. They said he had all of the signs of meningitis, and things looked bad. I cried. I prayed. I felt sick. It was supposed to take them about 15 minutes with him...he was gone for over an hour, and no one would tell me anything.

 

I finally couldn't take it anymore, and had to get out of the room. I went downstairs and planned to go outside for a breath of fresh air, and as soon as the elevator doors opened my aunt was there. I literally fell into her arms in tears, and told her how scared I was. We got a drink from the cafeteria, and headed back up to his room...which he still wasn't back in. About 10 minutes after we returned, they brought him back. They said they had had trouble with the spinal and an IV, and he was fine, and they were sorry they worried me. I just scooped up my baby and held him.

 

They started him on antibiotics, and more IV fluids, and by that afternoon he was awake. But, not happy. He was fussy and grumpy, and just didn't feel good. His soft spot was still bulging, and we were still waiting on answers.

 

They came in that night and told us the tests were clear for meningitis, so they thought it was just another infection causing his problems. They said the swelling in his head was probably due to them pushing so many IV fluids to try and perk him up, and was nothing to worry about. It was "normal".

 

He still had no appetite, but it sure was amazing to see his sweet eyes. The nurse I had that night was amazing, and told me that if Khoen cried when I tried to lay him down to go to bed, to put him in the bed with me. And that's exactly what I did. I cuddled up to him, and we went to sleep together...and that is the first time that Khoen ever slept through the night. <3

 

The next morning, he was feeling somewhat better, and he ate for me. The nurse brought me a bouncer for him in case he wanted to sit in it, so I gave it a try. I was busy cleaning up a little, and looked over at him to see him just sitting there giving me the biggest smile. I will never forget that smile that day. It made me feel so loved, and I would give absolutely anything to see him give me one of those smiles again tonight. But pictures will have to suffice.

 





 

We were told we could go home the next day, so we just enjoyed snuggles and hanging out just Mommy and Khoen that day/night. Although I told him next time he needed some mommy-time, to tell me so we could go on a vacation rather than to the hospital! ;)

 

The next morning, we were all set to go home, and my dad was on his way to pick us up. My mom had taken my car home for me the day before, so we needed a ride. I had already packed our things, gotten dressed, dressed Khoen all cute, EVERYTHING, and was feeding him his bottle before we left. And man, did he let me have it! He puked literally all over me and him! We were both completely soaked, and there was a nurse in the room at the time (thank God!) to help me out! She laughed with me while we cleaned him up, and she dressed him again for me while I got cleaned up and changed. That Khoen, he was full of surprises.

 

It was SO GOOD TO BE BACK HOME! I thought it would be the first of many times that Khoen was sick, but it was really the only one. Over the next few days, his soft spot would bulge, then sink in, then bulge again. I took him back to the doctors 3 times during the next week, and they kept doing tests, even did an ultrasound of his head, and said everything looked completely normal. They said that some kids just do that, and Khoen was one of those kids. I will never know whether or not to truly believe that there was nothing wrong, because he died less than 2 weeks later. But, I have to have faith that they did all they could, or I will drive myself insane.

 

So let's fastforward 2 weeks, to when I took the girls to the beach for a night. It was one night...we were supposed to return the next day at lunchtime. Dustin and I knew we didn't want to take the babies that summer because they couldn't enjoy it. So we thought it would be perfect.

 

By this time, we had been told that Khoen didn't need his monitor (he had been episode free for well over a month) unless we just felt he needed it, such as when he started sleeping through the night. He still wasn't doing that yet, and still wanted to eat every 4 hours, which was fine with me. It meant I still got my nightly snuggles!

 

Anyways, on May 31, my best friend (who is honestly more like my sister) and I spent the day at my house with my kids and her son, planning to leave the next day for the beach. Khoen was extra fussy, but I thought it was because I wasn't holding him constantly since I was packing for the girls. Now I constantly want to kick myself in the face for not thinking more of it. But, once again, I can't let my mind take me there.

 

These are 2 of the pictures that I took of the boys that day. I had no clue it was the last day I would spend with Khoen or I would have taken a million more. And, I never would have even considered leaving his side for a second.

 

We left the next morning around 7am, and the boys had just eaten and gone back to sleep. So I kissed each one goodbye on the cheek, and told them to be good, and I would see them tomorrow. Oh how those kisses and words eat at my soul now. :(

 

June 2, 2012. The worst day of my life. I woke up around 8, and tried to call Dustin. He didn't answer, so I figured he was asleep. My mom called. She told me we needed to come home, now. That Khoen was taken to the hospital. That he wasn't breathing well. That's all she would say.

 

I called Dustin. Still no answer. I called my dad, and he was crying.

 

I asked my dad to please tell me Khoen was ok, and he just cried and told me he was so sorry. I've never had such a punched-in-the-gut feeling in my life.

 

I asked my dad if Khoen was gone, and he said yes.

 

I don't remember much from there. I guess my mind blacked it out. I remember screaming so loud that the front desk got complaints, and they came to see if we were ok. Thank God for Victoria, for handling the situation, explaining things, packing ALL of our things, getting my girls and her son and me in the car, and driving us home. I remember making a few phone calls, but only remember talking to Kristin, then Ashley. I don't know who else I called.  I don't remember the drive home at all. I remember nothing else until I got to my parents house.

 

I had to have my sister keep Mikah at her house. I wasn't ready to see him without Khoen. I couldn't see him without Khoen. This couldn't be real. It had to be another nightmare, and I was trying my hardest to wake up. But I couldn't.

 

This was real. This was happening. My son was gone. My world completely crashed down around me, and all I could see was gray.

 

I didn't know how I would ever be able to look at Mikah and not just long to see Khoen beside him. They were twins. They were always side by side.

 

 

 

I don't think I realized then how much I was going to miss taking pictures like these. I knew I would miss it, but I still couldn't realize that this was real. This was my life now. This was happening.

 

The days that followed were absolutely terrible. We had to go that Monday morning, the 4th, to the funeral home. I didn't want to go, at all. We had originally planned to go the day before, on Sunday, but I couldn't do it. I wasn't ready. Can you ever really be ready to go and plan your child's funeral, no matter how old they were when they passed away?

 

But, it had to be done. And I wanted to make sure that Khoen's funeral was the most beautiful ceremony possible for my sweet boy.

 

The grief of losing a child is insane. It's completely unpredictable, and really does have a mind of its own. The times when you think you are ok, you aren't, and it hits you like a million tons of brick. But, the times when you think will be the hardest on you, sometimes you are able to make it through with a strength that can only come from above. It's crazy.

 

Planning the funeral was one of those times for me. I don't know how, but somehow I was able to sit there and help write out Khoen's obituary, plan his booklets, everything. I was doing better than I expected myself to, and was even able to hand them my little Kho's pictures, to use for his obituary and for his memorial service. I didn't cry the whole time. I was ok, somehow.

 

The people at the funeral home had asked if there was anything in particular we knew we wanted, so they could get started on things. My mom had already asked, right after Khoen passed away, for them to take prints of his hands and feet, because, seeing how he was a NICU baby, I never got any from the hospital. I knew that if they didn't take them, I would never have his handprint or his footprint. Well, I had been sent a poem from one of my dear friends that was just so perfect for Khoen, and I knew I wanted it in the booklet. It was about his tiny footprints, so we asked if they could put this poem inside, and put his real footprints behind it.

 

They told us that they had been unable to do handprints, because by the time Khoen arrived to them, his little hands were too stiff from his soul being gone for too long. They could no longer be straightened to be stamped onto paper. But, they had gotten his footprints, and they have no clue how much this means to me. I will be forever grateful for the multiple sets of footprints they gave us.

Anyways, I was doing ok, until they showed me what they had come up with. There they were...the first time I had ever seen them on paper...his tiny little footprints, behind the sweet poem that meant so much to me. That was too much. That made things too real. I couldn't handle it from there. I felt sick, and I just wanted to go home.

The Poem:

There are my tiny footprints,

So perfect and so small.

These tiny footprints

Never touched the ground at all.

Not one tiny footprint,

For now I have my wings.

These tiny footprints,

were meant for other things.

You will hear my tiny footprints

in the patter of the rain.

Gentle drops like angel's tears,

of joy and not from pain.

You will see my tiny footprints

in each butterflies lazy dance.

I'll let you know I'm with you,

if you just give me the chance.

You will hear my tiny footprints

in the rustle of the leaves.

I will whisper names into the wind,

and call each one that grieves.

Most of all, these tiny footprints,

are found on mommy and daddy's hearts.

'Cause even though I'm gone now,

we'll never truly part.

-Unknown Author

 

Since the funeral was planned, we were able to leave. I don't know if I've mentioned it yet, but I still hadn't been able to even hold Mikah. I felt like a terrible mother, but it was so hard. And unless you have been in my shoes, please don't judge that.

 

It was such a hard thing to deal with because I was terrified at the time of losing Mikah, too. But, at the same time, holding him meant making it real to me that I would never again hold Khoen. The longer I didn't hold Mikah, the longer I could hold onto that little piece of my heart that still didn't fully grasp my new reality. So, although he was with us now (we were staying with my parents, we didn't go home.), I couldn't be the mommy he needed me to be at the time.

 

I was ok around the girls, because they were, in a way, seperate to me. Mikah was just a package deal with Khoen, so it made it more difficult.

 

That night, I couldn't take it. It was hard, too, because since Dustin had been there when Khoen died, he couldn't come back to the townhouse, and I didn't blame him. But, at the same time, thats where my memories of Khoen were, so that's where I wanted to be. So, I came home. Alone.

 

I cried the whole way here. I stopped when I pulled into my parking spot, and literally beat my steering wheel, and yelled at the sky. I yelled to Khoen. I yelled at God, to please give him back. Please. Please make this pain go away.

 

I remember coming in the front door. I remember the quiet. My house is never quiet, I have 4 kids. My house was silent. How? Why? I remember seeing his carseat sitting right there in the kitchen, where it always was. I remember going over to it, and touching it, and just wanting so badly to see him sitting there.

 

I saw his monitor on the kitchen table. I saw the little belt he wore for so long, just laying there. Empty. No baby to put it on. That stupid monitor that I hated so much when he was alive, because it rubbed open wounds under my baby's armpits, and now I just looked at it with love, because it was a part of Khoen. I remember smelling it, to see if it still smelled like him.

 

Then I remember walking into the living room. The dark, empty living room. I remember the bouncy seats. They were both still sitting there, side by side, exactly where they had been 3 nights before. Exactly where we set them every night when the boys slept. I knew which one was Khoen's.

 

Seeing these seats literally crushed what little tiny bit of my heart may have still been hanging on. I no longer needed 2 seats. Plus, I was looking at the EXACT spot where my son took his last breath. I was looking at the spot where my son died. And I couldn't even breathe.

 

I don't know how I didn't actually throw up in the floor. I have never cried as hard as I did then. I layed there with my head in his seat, doing everything I could to feel as close to him as possible. I could smell him. I could close my eyes and see him. But when I opened them, I was still alone, in my dark, quiet living room. And he was still gone. And it was finally starting to really hit me that he wasn't ever coming back home.

 

I couldn't look at that spot anymore. Instead, I took his blanket from the seat, the blanket that covered him as he took that last precious breath, and I went to my bed. I didn't even change clothes. I just laid in my bed, held his blanket as tightly as I could, and cried. Screamed. Cried. Yelled. Punched the bed. Cried. And eventually exhausted myself so much that I fell asleep.

 

I think that was the first time I actually slept since that Friday, and I slept until well into the day Tuesday. I had no dreams. I was too mentally, physically, and emotionally tired, to even think. But as soon as I opened my eyes, and saw that his blanket was still there in my arms, I knew this was still happening. I still had to live through this. It wasn't going away. And I cried again.

 

I somehow forced myself to get into the bath...the same bathtub where my water broke just 4 short months ago, right before Khoen made his entrance into the world. I sat there emotionless for hours. And I really do mean hours. I am pretty sure I didn't move for 6-7 hours, because it was around 2 when I got in, and was dark when I got out. I never ran more hot water. I didn't care how cold it was. I couldn't feel it. I was completely numb. And, I knew that as soon as I moved...as soon as I tried to run water, or stand up, or even reposition myself, that reality would hit me again. I knew that the tears would come again. I knew that the nausea would come again. I knew that the pain would stab me again, and I didn't think my wound could take it at the moment.

 

I didn't eat. I couldn't eat. For 2 weeks after Khoen died, I ate maybe 2 meals. I would try...Id take one bite, and couldn't even make myself chew and swallow it. I made sure I drank water, thanks to my husband and my mom, but I couldn't take eating. I was constantly just too sick. I thought I was dying too for a while, because I honestly thought my body was never going to let me eat again.

 

Anyways, when I got out, I called my parents house. I talked to each of them....my mom, Dustin, Makenna, Kaisyn, told Dustin to kiss Mikah for me, then my dad. It was hardest to talk to my dad. He was the one who told me the news. He was the one who kept crying, because his heart was broken for me. My dad and I have always been close, and have that father-daughter bond that words just cant explain. And he felt my pain. He knew I was broken. But he knew he couldn't fix it, and that broke him.

 

But, he always knew what to say. He tried so hard. Everyone did. But no one could help.

 

At the time, I couldn't pray. I have always been a Christian, and always believed in God, and in Heaven, and knew that there was a better life waiting for us after this one is over. And it did comfort me to know that Khoen was in Heaven, with Grandmom and Grandad, and loved so much up there. But, I was angry. I was so, so angry. I didn't know why, why in the world, would God have to take my baby? Why did he have to have him back? I NEEDED HIM. I WANTED HIM HERE. HE WAS MINE.

 

It took time for my heart, and my head, to heal and allow me to hear God speak to me. This may make no sense to some, but I think that other mothers who have been here will understand. It was hard to pray because when you pray, you are talking to God himself. And in my mind, He was the one holding my Khoen. And I was jealous...I am human. I wanted to be the one holding my baby. How could I pray, and ask the one who sat there with my baby on his knee, to help heal my pain?

 

I just asked God if He knew how much I hurt. If He knew how much I needed that baby. If He knew what He had done, and if He had made a mistake. This HAD to be a mistake.

 

 

That night went the same way. I stayed at my house, while my family was at my parents. I just couldn't go there. I couldn't leave where I knew Khoen to be. And again, I screamed, I cried, I couldn't breathe, I punched my bed, I cuddled with his blanket, I yelled, I cried more, and I exhausted myself until I fell asleep.

 

The next morning, I went back to my kids. I woke up and knew that I had to. I was able to drive for the first time and not cry. I cried when I got there, because they hugged me. I didn't handle hugs well at the time. I didn't want to need hugs...although I did need them. I wanted to be normal. I wanted my life back. I wanted Khoen. But he was gone, and the hugs were here, and I couldn't change that.

 

The funeral was planned for the next day, and I knew that we had to go to the funeral home and see Khoen. This was wednesday. I had told everyone I didn't want to see him. I wanted to remember him how he was before, and I didn't want to see him. I knew that if I saw him, I would want to grab him up and kiss him, and have him wake up and give me that big, sweet smile. And I knew he wouldn't, so I didn't want to see. I wanted someone to take pictures, so I could see later if I decided to.

 

I had to take anxiety medication that morning. I was having panic attacks like crazy. Too soon, we were in the car on our way to see my baby. And I didn't want to go.

 

When we got there, a lot of my husbands family was already there. I wasn't in the mood to see anyone, even my own family, and I know I acted rude. I didn't speak to anyone, and I couldn't stop shaking. I couldn't look up. I couldn't breathe.

 

My pastor was there, and prayed with us before we went in. They told us he was ready, and that Dustin and I could go in first. I asked Dr. Ammons to go in with us. All of a sudden, I had to go. I had to see. I had to tell my baby goodbye. I knew it would hurt, but I was already so hurt that it no longer mattered. I just needed to see his face again.

 

I will never forget walking through those doors, and into the huge room where my baby was. He was across the room, in this tiny casket. It was way too small to even look real. A 25" long casket, and my baby fit in it too well.



 As I said before, we didn't allow people to come except family. And honestly, at the time, I didn't even want them to see him. I wanted no one to remember my baby that way. I wanted them to remember his smile. Not a lifeless shell.

I think it took me 5 full minutes to walk across the room. Dr. Ammons held my hand. As we got closer, I could see his feet, and I knew this was real. That was my baby. That was my son. This was really happening. We had brought certain things to bury with him...a photo of Dustin, me, and the girls, and one of Mikah. We never had family photos made with all 6 of us. We brought his puppy that the Easter bunny had brought him...the only holiday we were ever able to spend with him. We brought him a his little toy keys. We brought his pacifier that he loved (not his Wubbanub though, I couldn't part with that). My parents brought him a little book, and my sister and his family brought him a little Noah's Ark figurine.

 

Once I could see his feet, I broke down. I felt sick again. I just wanted to see all of him. And I did.

 

Khoen didn't look like my Khoen. He didn't look like the baby I knew, the baby I remembered, the baby I wanted so badly to run away with. But it was only because I knew that he was gone, and this was just his earthly body we were seeing.

 

The next few facts may be too much for some, but its how it happened, and I have to share.

 

I remember feeling his head. I remember rubbing his little cheek. I will never forget how cold and hard it was. Nothing like when I had stroked his cheek before. But, I couldn't stop. I cried, and I just begged in my head (or maybe out loud, I honestly don't know) for my baby back. I begged for this not to be real once again.

 

I remember feeling his stomach, and knowing that an autopsy had been done, and knowing that this really was happening. I remember seeing his little identification tag on his ankle, and just wanting to rip it off and tell him to wake up.

 

 

After we had been with him for quite some time, our pastor asked if we wanted to let others come in. We agreed, knowing we could be alone with him again after. I remember seeing Dustin's family walking through the door, and I remember running out into the hall and having a full blown panic attack. And, I am actually physically shaking writing this...yet, it feels freeing in a way, because I want to hide nothing of Khoen. Khoen is my son, and he is a part of my world. His story deserves to be told in full.

 

I remember seeing Victoria walk up a few minutes later, and collapsing into her. After Dustin's family was done, my family went in. And after they went in, Victoria went in. Then we went in again.

 

Once everyone was done, I wanted another few minutes just Dustin, Khoen, and I. So we stood there. We said nothing. There were no words. I had to feel his cheeks, his head, his hands, his feet, his tummy, his nose, his lips, his chin, everything, just one last time.

And I remember the hardest part of all...when they told me it was time for us to leave. Wait...I have to leave here without him? I have to leave him with these strangers? What do you mean this is the LAST time I will see his face? I can't do that! I have to take him home, snuggle him, tell him that everything is going to be ok, and hold him. I have to wipe his tears, and fix his booboos, and tell him stories. I have to teach him to brush his teeth, to throw and catch, to make animal sounds. We have to sing songs, do silly dances. We have to watch him grow up. This is my son.

 

But, I had to leave him. I had to give him one last kiss on his head, and walk away. I couldn't turn around, because I would have run back. I had to just walk away, get in my aunts van, and leave. I couldn't talk. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. And for a few minutes, I couldn't even cry. I was simply existing, and didn't know why.

 

When we got back to my parents, I had to leave. I had to be alone. I had to collect my thoughts again. I went home. I smelled his bouncer. I held his WubbaNub. I snuggled his blanket. And again, I cried, screamed, yelled, almost puked, cried some more, and exhausted myself to sleep.

 

I had to get up early the next morning and go back to my parents to get the kids ready for the funeral. I dont know why I say get them ready...I did nothing to help. I could barely get myself ready. But too soon once again, we were in the car on the way to the cemetary.

 

When we arrived, there were already people there. People who love my family, and love Khoen, and wanted to show us they cared. Some who I hadn't seen in so long, and there they were. They will never know how much that meant. Words cant express.

 

When we got out of the car, for the first time, I knew I had to hold Mikah. I couldn't walk up the hill and sit in front of that casket that held my Khoen without Mikah in my arms. So, I took him, and I held him, and I couldn't let him go. I couldn't let anyone else hold him during the funeral...I had to keep him close. He just slept, but my heart hurt so much for him. That was his tiny twin in that casket, and he didn't even understand what was going on. They were in matching outfits for the very last time. I dressed Mikah exactly like Khoen, and only we knew. But it was special to us.

 

The ceremony was beautiful, and somehow I didn't cry much at all. Tears dripped occasionally, but I wasn't nearly as upset as I'd thought I'd be. And when it was over, and people were hugging me, I was actually able to smile. That smile came straight from Heaven...straight from Khoen...straight from the Lord. And that's the moment when I started to see again.

 

 

From that day on, I learned little by little to put one foot in front of the other. I no longer had to stay away from Mikah, and was able to feed him, change him, and be the mommy he needed me to be. I didn't have to go stay by myself at my house. I stayed with my family at my parents.

 

That doesn't mean I was better, but I was learning. I still cried, a lot. I still didn't eat. I still didn't sleep well at all. But, I had an occasional smile, and I knew that there was a reason that was just beyond me at the time.

 

I remember one night a few nights later, I was sitting out on the bed of my dads truck, looking up at the stars. The kids were asleep, and I needed some fresh air. I prayed for the first time, but it still wasn't like I used to. I begged God to give me a sign that Khoen was ok. I begged him for a shooting star in particular...just show me a shooting star, and I'll smile. I'll know that he is ok, and that I'm going to be ok, and I will get through this.

 

I sat there for about 30 minutes before my dad joined me. At first we just sat there together, silently staring at the stars. Then, he talked to me, and it was the best talk I've ever had.

 

He reminded me that God doesn't have to give us a reason right now. God doesn't have to give me that shooting star for me to know Khoen is ok right now at this moment, because I already know deep down in my heart. My heart is just broken right now, and it will take time to heal. But, that doesn't mean that God has forgotten, or that He isn't there. That doesn't mean that God doesn't care.

 

"All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be." Psalm 139:16

 

When God chose me to be Khoen's mommy, he knew that I would only have him for a short time. But he knew the love that little boy would bring to me, and the smiles, and the warmth that he would put into my heart. He knew that all my life, I longed for twins. And He gave me my twins. But He also knew that I wasn't done learning, and there was more to my life than to just be a mommy of 4.

 

Through losing Khoen, I have met some of the most amazing women in the world, that I never would have had a bond with before. It is not a bond that I would wish upon anyone, due to the pain behind our smiles, but its a bond that is such a blessing to my life.

 

As I started my journey to healing, I relearned how to pray, and to pray better. I remembered how great my desire was before to get to Heaven when this life is over, and I knew now that it was multiplied by one million...my son was waiting for me there. And I remember someone sending me a quote about a child who dies before their mother. I can't remember exactly what it said, but the point was that the child doesn't miss their mother, because a lifetime down here is like a second in Heaven. Its like running into a field of flowers with your baby...your baby may run ahead, but by the time he looks back to find you, you are already there.

 

That brought me peace, because as a mother, its our instinct not to want them to be scared, or lonely, or miss us and think we are not there. I can't wait to see the flower Khoen has picked for me.

 

I never looked up the name Khoen before he died to see what it meant, but I decided to do it one day after. And, I discovered his name meant Priest. Khoen has led me and my family back to the Lord and made us closer than ever before. And I can't thank him enough for that.

 

If you've never listened to the song Hug Him Once For Me, I ask you to please go to YouTube.com and listen to it. Just listen to it and remember Khoen. Remember my baby. He is real, and he is my son...whether you can see him, or got to meet him, or even knew that he was here. He was. He is. And I love him so.

 

I still don't know why Khoen didn't get to stay, but I know that I will understand one day. I can no longer doubt the existence or reasoning of God...without him, I would not be where I am today. I think God sent me on that trip, so that I wouldn't have to witness what He knew was going to happen. He knew that Dustin possesses a strength that I dont, and he could get through it with time. I couldn't have handled seeing it. That was God.

 

God has carried me through my toughest days. And he sends me reminders of Khoen when I need them the most.

 

For example, one night after going to a baby shower for someone who was having twins, I was having a really rough night. It was still so new to me, and it was hard to see people be excited over having 2 babies, when I had just lost mine. Not only did I lose my son, but my twins...and that was an adjustment.

 

That night, I was really upset. I had called a good friend who lives in Georgia but is always there when I have emotional breakdowns, haha (thanks, Kristin Hill!!!!) and just cried and cried to her. When I got off the phone, I cried again. I didn't want to go home...I didn't want to go back to my reality. Maybe if I kept driving, I could pretend this all wasn't real, and that Khoen was at home sleeping with all of my other babies.

 

It was dark, and I was on a street with few streetlights. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, I saw the biggest, brightest shooting star I have ever seen in my life. It was directly in front of me, and I watched it until it disappeared into the night. That was my sign from God. That was my, "You're going to be ok. Khoen is ok. He is safe with me, and he is in my arms, just as you are. You will see him again, so just go home, and try. I will help you when you need me." And that's what I did. I dried my tears, found my smile (thanks, Khoen!), and drove home. I went to bed, and woke up the next day and was able to do all of the things a mommy has to do. Our job keeps us busy and on our toes!

 

Sometimes people ask me how I do it, and I still can't answer. My only response is God. Prayer. And believing with all of my heart that I WILL see my son again. I will hold him again. I will hug him, and kiss him, and tell him how much I love him. And I will hear him tell me he loves me. I absolutely can't wait.

 

Strength through grief is crazy, too, because I don't think we ever really know where it comes from. It just is, and somehow with time we are able to walk a little farther, and a little faster, again.

 

My journey is far from over. I have gained so much weight since last June. I had to choose my daily battles at the time, and there were many days that even the regular have-to-dos were too much. Doing laundry and finding one of Khoen's little shirts put me into tears for the day. Or seeing a butterfly and realizing I needed to go do something special with the kids. Trying so hard to figure out how to be mommy again, and look into my childrens eyes without them constantly seeing pain.

 

I do think its ok to let them see my cry. Otherwise, they will be very confused later in life, because they will know Khoen was real, but not remember seeing any sadness after. So, if I am crying over Khoen and they ask me whats wrong, I tell them. And I tell them its ok to be sad. Its ok to miss him. It makes tomorrow a little easier.

 

But, food wasn't on my agenda of things that I cared about. I ate what was there and convenient, and a lot of nights I comfort-ate as well. And it has caught up to me. I find myself looking in a mirror and hating what I see. But then I look at my children, and the love they have for me, and know that I can change it for them. They love me regardless, and my life has been focused 100% on them. I have to do something for me. I want to live to see my grandchildren grow up. So if you see me, please don't be disgusted at how I look now. I am going to do something about it, starting now. I have to, for my kids. For my family. For Khoen. And until this point, I just didn't have it in me.

 

If you meet someone, or know someone, who has recently lost a child, don't ask them how they are doing. Just tell them you are thinking of them and praying for them. Tell them you still care. Tell them you remember their baby, even if its been 20 years. Losing a child hurts, and although we learn to deal with the pain, it doesn't go away.

 

SIDS isn't rare, and it doesn't discriminate. I never thought it could happen to my family, yet here I am. I did everything right...back to sleep, no smoking, didn't put them to sleep with a propped bottle, I could go through the whole list. And, Khoen still stopped breathing. It happens. All you can do is pray, and trust God that, no matter his path for your life, He will carry you through.

 

To my other angel mommies, I am thinking of you today and always. To the ones who still show me they care, thank you. And to the people who have had no clue what to say and still don't, thats ok. Just don't avoid me, that doesn't help. Don't be afraid to say Khoen, I chose his name because I love it, and I love him, so I love hearing his name.

 

 

Thank you to everyone who has prayed for my family. I would not be where I am today without you. I am the happy mommy of a 5 year old drama queen, an almost 3 year old diva, and almost 2 year old twin boys, my little sweetheart and my angel. And I couldn't be more proud.

 

Khoen, I miss you every single second of every single minute of every single hour of every single day, and I mean that. But, thank you for showing me that you are near when I need it the most. Mommy loves you so incredibly much, and I can't wait to see you in Heaven. Help my stay strong, sweet boy. Stay by your siblings and continue to let them know you are near them. Stay close to daddy and remind him how much you love him. We all miss you, and we are all doing our best. We love you, baby. Love Always & Forever, Mommy <3

 

**If you read this whole blog, thank you from the bottom of my heart for allowing me to share the most painful parts of me with you. I cried the whole way through, but can now say that I am smiling, and feel relieved that I have shared with those who wanted to know. Again, thank you, and so much love to you.**