A break

These last few days have been really hard.  I'm not quite sure why.  I try each morning to wake up and tell myself its going to be a better day when really I'm only fooling myself.

It seems the sadness and reminders of his death continue to come.  I've been trying to find ways to turn Noah's short time here on Earth into a positive outcome, and I'm still determined, but I think I need to give myself some time, cause right now its not easy to find happiness.

It seems the disappointments and harsh reminders are very apparent this week.  The same day we got the death certificate I received a phone call from the organization where I was trying to donate the breast milk my body made for Noah.  After an initial application I submitted saying I don't smoke, didn't drink, have never taken drugs, and was overall healthy... I was told my milk would not be accepted because I had to have the Rhogam shot after giving birth.  A shot because I have O negative blood type and without the shot my body could have had some health consequences.  Something I can't even help.

I was truly disappointed and shed more tears.  It would have made me so happy to have been able to share my milk with a mother and baby who needed it.  Instead I was basically told my milk was/is contaminated.  Still I kept it in the freezer, hoping I'd find someone who would be willing or wanting to use it to help their child.  And then tonight, we found out the freezer where it was stored, stopped working and all of the milk was ruined.  It had to be tossed, like garbage.  That milk that we so cautiously gathered and stored, hoping our son would be nourished by... ruined.  It too a sad ending, just like our lives the last 5 weeks.

And so its for that reason I am saying goodbye.  Its not just the milk, but my outlook, my current perspective on life.

I don't have the energy to try and write something uplifting, when honestly I feel the opposite.  So I've decided its time for me to take a break.  A break from openly sharing whats been going on, how we are feeling, what struggle we are facing today.  No one really wants to read sad news anyway.

So I'm signing off, for how long, I don't know.  I just hope some time, some day I will return with a fresh perspective, with hope that I felt in those early days after he was born and with a desire to live this life I've been dealt.

-- Angie

Week17: Turning a corner

Another post I never got to share...

May 1st, 2015

With the number of weeks I have spent venting about how crappy I feel, I think it is about time I start talking about the fact I think, I hope, I believe I’m turning the corner.  This week, I’ve gone a whole 5 days without throwing up.  Seriously, this is a major major improvement.  For a few weeks there, it was counting the hours in between the races to the bathroom and then I went a whole 5 days. 

I’ve noticed while the nausea is still present, it seems to be diminished and less severe that it has been.  I’m celebrating every victory. 

Perhaps the most exciting, well actually there are two things this week, that happened was that my appetite is back and that I was treated to a maternity shopping trip thanks to my mother and father in law.

Let’s start with the appetite.  It kicked in on Tuesday and it hasn’t really waned.   Tuesday morning before work I ate a large bowl of cereal and raced out the door.  By the time I got to work I was hungry again, so I found some crackers lying on my desk and shoved them down.  That was not enough, I went to the break room at work and pulled out my apply slices which were supposed to be part of my lunch.  I ate them like they were nothing and still I was hungry.  I texted Jarrett and said, “I’m starving, I can’t get enough food today.”  Back to the break-room I went to scrounge up some other food when I found a homemade fruit cocktail cake sitting on the table open for all to share.  I cut myself a good size portion and even though I’m not a fan of fruit cocktail, I devoured that cake like it was nothing.  It was 9:08 a.m. 

Since then, I’ve found myself having at least 4 meals a day.  Now I eat breakfast around 6:30, a second breakfast around 9, followed by lunch at 11, snack at 2, a second snack at 4 and supper at 6.  Seriously, I can’t get enough food.  I’ve been stepping on the scale each morning for several weeks, and I’ve quickly realized, those first few weeks when the scale didn’t budge or even went down a pound or two, have quickly been rising in the other direction.  I swear one day it jumped 5 pounds.  Considering how much I’m eating, it shouldn’t really surprise me.

Here’s one more example of my appetite.  Saturday night, after a full day of baseball, we went out for dinner with Nana and Papa.  I’ve been craving a steak for a few weeks now and decided it was my chance to indulge.  I ordered myself a 14 ounce ribeye with a side of mash potatoes and macaroni and cheese.  I think I surprised the wait staff that I ordered the huge man portion sized meal, because when they went to bring us the food, they listed off what they had on the plate and immediately looked to the two men at the table.  Nope, that huge meal, that’s for me.   And boy did I scarf it down.   Not only did I eat everything on my plate, but I also ate several of the appetizers that came before.  It was yummy!

On Sunday morning at church I couldn't help but sing praises to God in thanksgiving that I was feeling better.  Seriously I’m so thankful to feel well enough to be able to stay off the couch from the hours of 3 p.m. to 8 p.m.  I’m still pretty much a couch potato from the moment the kids go to bed until I do, but at least now I have the ability to help the kids with their homework, prepare dinner and even stop by the library (a weekly tradition the kids and I have had for a few years but pretty much gave up in the first three months). 

Boy am I thankful to feel better.

And onto my second highlight of the week.  I’ve said it in the past and truly mean it… I was hoping to be able to save as much money as possible on this pregnancy and one of my plans in how to do it was to borrow maternity clothes or find them for as cheaply as possible.  I’ve never been a fashionista who I don’t think anyone would expect me to look any differently at this stage in life either right? J  And that was my plan until my ever so thoughtful and generous mother and father in law offered to treat me to a few new pieces of clothing I can wear throughout this pregnancy.  Saturday night after dinner, Jarrett took the kids home to put them to bed and I got to go shopping with Nana.  It was SO much fun for many reasons.  A)  I can’t even remember the last time I went shopping to buy a new piece of clothing for myself.  B) I always enjoy shopping with Jarrett’s mom and C) they were so kind they wanted to treat me. Don’t think it can get any better. 

Our shopping adventure was a success, when I actually found several new outfits, dresses and shirts I can wear for the next few months (and even after).  Nana is an excellent seamstress and already altered a few of the shirts to make them even cuter and she said after the baby comes she’d add some darts to the shirt, to take them in so they can be used after for work too.  As Nana told me when she was pregnant with her boys, the first two times she only borrowed clothes but when she was pregnant with Nolan (her youngest) she was treated to a new pregnancy outfit and she said she enjoyed that tremendously.  She wanted me to be able to feel similarly and I’m so thankful and excited.  Infact, after I had tried on everything at the store and came home, I made Jarrett sit through a 30 minute fashion show as I tried on everything again.  I have to say, she was right, actually wearing maternity clothing that we picked out and was purchased just for me, did do my attitude wonders.  It made me feel so excited about the transformation happening and the growing baby in my stomach.  While I’ve felt excitement before in this pregnancy (when we have ultrasounds), getting a new wardrobe, along with feeling better, makes this whole experience seem completely different than how I was feeling the weeks prior. 

I got up to shower this morning and as I looked at my expanding stomach in the mirror, I felt genuine happiness and love of what I’m experiencing. 

The other aspect of this pregnancy that I’m starting to feel, and can only imagine it getting stronger is a deep love for the baby I feel every once and a while fluttering inside me.  While I don’t feel movement all that regularly and if I’m being really honest, I don’t even know if what I’m feeling is the baby, but I can’t help in believing what I am feeling is this tiny miracle made from Jarrett and I making his presence known.  I seem to notice it most in the middle of the night after I’ve gotten up to pee several times.  Almost like a popcorn floating throughout my stomach or sometimes even a wave of motion from one side of my stomach to the other.  Still very faint but enough to make me know what I felt was something I’ve never experienced before. 

And I’ve started picturing over and over in my mind, what this baby will be like.  How he will fit into our family and how our family dynamic will change and grow because of our 4^th surprise addition.  I am starting to allow myself to look forward again to the baby moments.  The tiny cute toes and precious little cries.  I know its going to be hard to balance four children and I’m not quite sure how I’ll do it, but I remember feeling that way when Isabelle came home.  We got through that and can’t imagine our lives without her.  The same will happen for this baby too.  I find my heart growing love for this baby just as my stomach grows proving to me that yes this is real and not still a dream.

Highlights of the week:

How far along are you? 17 weeks 6 days

How I’m feeling?  Praise the Lord, I have days when I feel good.  Yes, you did read that correctly.

Total weight gain…  I would say 4-5pounds since finding out I’m pregnant.

How big is baby? I Baby is about 5 ounces and 5 inches long from head to bottom.  About the size of a turnip. 

Maternity clothes…  Thanks to a wonderful friend and my in-laws I think I’m set. 

Best moment this week… highlighted above!

Movement… Flutters every once in a while

Food cravings… Steak

Food aversions… anything with tomatoes or tomato-based products, nothing with lots of garlic and or too spicy

Belly button in or out… In but I’m a seeing its morphing happening

What I miss…  Sleeping through the night and being able to go for a run.  I seriously spot out every runner I see, and wish I could join them but know there will be time in the future to pick up running again.  I was excited this week, I felt well enough Saturday morning to get up and go out for a walk.  It was glorious! 

What I’m looking forward to… wearing some of my borrowed and new maternity clothes.  Regular clothes are getting a bit too snug.

Until next time,

Angie

a tough day...

From the very beginning we were told there would be days that would be easier and some days would be tougher.  I figured the tough days would be those anniversary dates that I dread coming.  What I didn't know was that there would be days just out of the blue, that are just as painstakingly tough.  Today is one of those days.

I don't know why.  I got up this morning, went running but couldn't shake the emptiness I feel inside.  I waited for the endorphins to kick in, but they never really did.  I returned home, got ready for work and went hoping when I got there, I'd be preoccupied and my mind would tell my heart not to hurt as much.

At 10 a.m. I wished I could go home but still had a whole day in front of me.  I missed Noah and couldn't stop thinking of him, of those days in the NICU and the wish to be back there with my healthy, thriving baby.  I texted Jarrett, "I feel so sad today."

I think part of the hurt today came from a few things.  One was the package that had arrived in the mail for me last week. It was from Enfamil and it was formula and coupons for baby items.  The outside of the box said, "Hello, Mom"  I couldn't even bring myself to look at it last week but last night (after such a good day), I was okay passing it along to another mommy, whose expecting a baby in just over a month.  Carrying it to give away, reminded me of all the happiness we are missing, we will not get to experience.

And the visual reminders of pregnancy all around.  I see them at the grocery store, walking on campus, at church.  The social worker from the hospital told me its common to see pregnant people all over after you suffer a loss.  I'm happy for them but so deeply sad for myself, for our family.  If Noah was still inside me, he would be over 30 weeks.  He would be old enough to survive outside the womb.  For some reason I torture myself and looked up on Instagram pictures of women who are currently 30 weeks along.  They look so happy, so beautiful, so full of life... I look in the mirror and see sadness of what could have, should have been. Oh how I miss him so much.

Coming home from work, I find the kids outside, playing nicely together (that rarely happens) and I watch them for a while.  I think to myself, will I ever feel the way I used to feel, when they were my everything and I wanted to do anything I could to be the best mom for them?  I now feel so empty without Noah. I instead find myself looking out the window and wondering what it would have looked like for Noah to be playing right along side them.  Its a picture of greatness, and instead I find what is missing...

These days are especially hard.  When I reminisce about Noah, about being pregnant and about the wonderful anticipation of what our life was suppose to be... I am devastated.

 And to make it even more difficult, tonight we were presented with the death certificate.  It just doesn't look right to see Noah's name on the Certificate of Death.  I'll never be okay with this... to see the name of our son, age at death: 12 days, and our names listed as parents, feels, like I can only imagine a knife being shoved through your chest must feel.  Its just horrible. It hurts to breath.  I can't find any other words to describe the reality that hits when you stare down at the official government document declaring your child's passing.  It is a million times worse than the worst day of my life and that doesn't even compare to the actual day Noah left us.

I hope tomorrow is a day when I can find more joy in the memories and that the pain feels more bearable. I hope for that tomorrow.  Tonight, I sit here feeling despair...tonight this grief feels too severe, too overwhelming.  Its just a tough day.  It hasn't been the first and I'm sure it won't be the last.  It's just a tough day.

Until next time,
Angie

New decorations...

Noah may not physically be here, but he will always be a part of our family, an important part.  As so just as Jarrett, Gabriel, Michael, Isabelle and even myself are in pictures along our wall, I felt so strongly that Noah deserves his place in our home as well.

Jarrett ended up taking the entire weekend off of work.  That NEVER happens, but it was so wonderful.  My sister MaeLyn came to town for a week and it has been fun spending time with her but also having Dad home as well.   Being in San Diego was great for Jarrett and I, but we both felt and knew it was time to reconnect as a family.

And had we (just Jarrett and I) not gone away to San Diego, I don't think we would have been in a place to reconnect, to bond, like we did this weekend.  It was such a glorious, low key weekend, I can't even remember what we did.  

On Friday afternoon Gabriel asked me if we could start putting together a Noah's Ark puzzle Nana and Papa had given us a couple of years ago for Christmas.  It was the puzzle that had made its a way to the back of our closet, one of those "in our spare time" activities we hadn't ever made time for.  It's also the same puzzle that just happened to fall out of the closet on my foot the morning of June 26th, as I prepared to go to the funeral home to make arrangements for the my precious son.  A puzzle I honestly hadn't seen in years, just happened to fall out of the closet and onto my foot... and it just happened to be the Noah's Ark one.  Maybe just another coincidence...maybe. 

With nothing really on our agenda, I told Gabriel that it would be a fine activity to do, so he set up shop and the puzzle-putting together commenced.  Now three days later we only have about 250 pieces of the 1,000 pieces left to put in.  It's been a group effort, with most of the family, including MaeLyn, Nana and Papa finishing the majority of the pieces.  I usually walk by, find one piece that fits in and declare I've contributed my piece for the day.  

Sadly our family isn't one to often put together puzzles but it has actually been a lot of fun.  And I have a feeling, activities like this may become even more of a regular part of our routine.  In rebuilding this new and different life, one of the many changes I've noticed is that the TV in our living room is very rarely on.  If you'd come to our house prior to this life changing summer, it was a guarantee you'd find our TV on.  I admit it, we are TV people.   But, in losing Noah, the TV doesn't seem as interesting anymore.  I can't tell you the last time I turned on the TV, the last time I watched the news or paid any attention to a TV show.  Maybe its because I'm not ready to face the world and the reality that life has moved on.  Maybe its because we've been so showered in love with kindness, that our faith in mankind has been restored and I don't need any news reminding me of anything different.  And maybe its because, we've found that while we spent time together watching TV, we really didn't spend time together as a family. It wasn't a conscious decision to NOT watch TV, it has become a new routine, one I like, actually one I think we all like.

In addition to putting together our Noah's puzzle, some other activities we participated in was making practice cupcakes for MaeLyn's wedding.  I hadn't made cupcakes since Isabelle's birthday back in February and wasn't sure I remembered how.  Baking has always been a hobby Isabelle and I enjoy doing together and so we dug out the baking supplies and took a shot at it. I think they turned out okay... Isabelle's been begging for cupcakes about 10 times a day.

In addition to baking, puzzling, and swimming, the other thing we did this weekend was spent time putting up some new decorations, pictures in memory of our beloved littlest angel, Noah.

Our dear friends gave us this beautiful personalized picture frame with the lyrics to the song, The Dance by Garth Brooks.  I had blogged about it earlier, after Noah was born, about how the lyrics of that song reminded me to be thankful for what we were going through.

And now, I'm glad I didn't know,

 the way it all would end,

 the way it all would go.  

Our lives, are better left to chance, 

I could have missed the pain, 

but I'd have had to miss the dance.  

And how true those words are today.  Never would I have wanted to know, back on that beautiful June 13, 2015, that I would have had to say goodbye to my precious baby just 12 days later.  It is blissful to know now that every single day I woke up and raced to that hospital, that I never truly believed he was going to leave me so soon.  Instead, in my mind, I dreamed about how he was going to grow, all the things we were going to do in his long and healthy life.  That's the bliss that filled my mind.  And while scary at the time, I look back now and think, "those were some of the best days of my entire life."  Thank God I got them.

And just like the song, says, our lives are better left to chance.  I could have missed the pain, but I'd have had to miss, the dance.  And just like the doctors and nurses told us... we were active in the NICU dance, but gosh am I sure glad I got to participate.  I'm forever grateful to God that he gave me those 12 precious days with my son.  That in those 12 days I got to feel him wrap his hand around my finger, where I got to kiss him all over his tiny body but especially on his head, on his hands, on his nose and his precious lips.  And that in those 12 days I got to hold him close to my chest, next to my beating heart, those gifts more precious than anything in this world.  

So the song is right, I could have missed the pain I live with today, but I would have had to miss the chance to know, to meet, and to love unconditionally my son. Thank GOD I got to be in the dance.  

In addition to the beautiful Noah James frame we were given, Jarrett and I put up a small collage of photos taken by the wonderful NILMDTS group.  Here's how it turned out.

And after that we decided to do a family art project.  I had always wanted to create a picture of each one of our hand prints together. It's one of the few things we have left, besides pictures to remember just how tiny our Noah was.  So today, since Dad was home we decided to create our family hand prints.

It actually turned out to be fun.  Each one of us placed our painted hand print along the canvas in order of youngest to oldest.  Then I wrote at the top, our family and the names of each person's hand print along the bottom.  

When it was all done, we hung the picture up above our hall closet.  The closet we are in everyday.  Yes, us six, that is our family.  While one of us, has gone before the rest, we still remain..one family.

Our painting reminds me, that yes, we are still one.  

Our final project today was to begin working on the wall in our home which is dedicated to our children.  Its the wall that has each of the kids' pictures, their names and the saying, "With our three angels... we became a family"  above their photos.  Today, we added Noah's picture and soon his name and a new saying will be added....

"With our FOUR angels..."  

because in my mind, he will always be as much of an important member of our family as everyone who is still here.  So yes, his picture belongs there, and today I felt it was time to start making changes to get our wall updated.

Where Gabriel, Michael and Isabelle's pictures are in full color, we purposely chose Noah's to be in black and white. A symbol that his life here on Earth is over, but that he will never be forgotten and always cherished.  As Gabriel, Michael and Isabelle's life here goes on, I like how theirs will be captured in color while Noah's will remain unchanged. I'd give everything and anything to have four full of life and color pictures along my wall, but it will never be.  I find comfort in having pictures of my four children along the wall for yes all four of them are my angels.  Some angels here on Earth and one up in Heaven. 

And speaking of Heaven, Noah was with us again today.  This morning we raced out the door, as we usually do, and piled into the car to race to church.  The kids, my sister and I were in the van waiting for Dad to come out when Michael said, "Look Mom, there's a rainbow!"  At first I thought he must be joking.  Seriously the sun was shining, it was a typical desert morning... how could there be a rainbow I thought?  There's not even a dark cloud in the sky.  But then, I looked...

And there it was, just a few houses down from ours.  Just barely up in the sky, faintly making it's appearance, but in our van, the rainbow's presence celebrated in vibrant cheers and joys.

I jumped out of the van, ran around to the other side and snapped pictures continuously.  I was afraid it was going to disappear before Jarrett could see.  But it stayed.

Dad came out and saw the beautiful colorful sign.  He got in the car and we drove the 6 miles to church.  The rainbow was visible the entire way and we talked. "I've never seen so many rainbows here in the the desert in the entire time we've lived here." I said.  To which Jarrett responded, "that is what I was just thinking."

Maybe its just because we are actively seeking them out.  Maybe its just that we never noticed in the past.  Maybe, there could be so many maybes.  Here's what I choose to believe.

When I knew my son was dying, I begged him to give me signs he was going to be okay when he left us.  I begged him over and over.  Each time I stood at his bedside I prayed to God, and I spoke to him, "Noah, I love you so much. Honey you are such a strong fighter, but it's okay to go. Please just send me signs that you are okay when you get to Heaven.  Please send Mommy rainbows so I know you're okay and living among the other angels with God.  I love you Noah.  I will always miss you and always love you." 

With each rainbow I see, I choose to believe it is a message from my youngest son.  I choose to think he wanted to tell us today, just a month after we lost him, that he's in Heaven with Jesus and that he's still with us, even though he can't be in the way I wish him to be.  I choose to believe, Noah is telling us he is okay.  He wants us to be okay too.

That rainbow stayed in visible sight from our home all the way until we got to church.  I got out of the car at church, took another picture and mouthed to him, "Thank you Noah. I love you."  And then I turned with Isabelle and walked towards the church.  Right before walking in, I turned back to see the rainbow for one last time, but it was gone.  

Noah had made his presence known and it wasn't just comforting to me, but to all of us.  Michael was so proud he saw the rainbow first, sitting outside our house, and Gabriel excited he saw it still when we had arrived at church.  And even Isabelle joined in shouting she saw rainbows the entire way to church.  Seeing rainbows gives us all comfort as we move through this grief and I just have to believe he is still with us.  I just fully believe it is a sign from him.

And believing is what helps me keep walking through this journey, one step at a time.  Today was a good day (I can't believe I'm even saying that).  A day spent as a family, a family of six.  Celebrating each member of our family, giving thanks for those here and Noah who's gone before us, and just being together.  I think that's another way we get through this difficult and sad road of loss... together... our family, the six of us.

Until next time,
Angie

Dear Noah... It's been a month.

Dear Noah,

A month ago today you left us behind and went to be with Jesus.

Seven months ago when I found out about you, you made my heart grow in ways you’ll never know.  Noah, for years your Dad and I longed to become parents.  To create a little person that came partially from him and partially from me.  I don’t know if you realize it or not, but your creation was for us, a dream come true.

Only God knows why you were created after 10 years of infertility, after me giving up on that dream of being able to give life from my body.  You were created after your brothers and sister made us the happiness two people in all the land.  Having you, after getting them, that was the icing on the cake, the cherry on top of the sunday, the winning lottery ticket… yes, Noah… that is you.

I know you know my heart is broken that I won’t get to see you grow, that I won’t get to feel you kiss me on the cheek, or hear your feet running throughout  the house.  The morning you left us behind, my world fell to pieces.  I don’t know how else to say it… part of me died that day too Noah.  A big part of me.  And now I feel incomplete, that a critical piece of our family puzzle is lost, and our lives will never be whole again. 

When I found out about you growing inside of me, I dreamed of what our life was going to be like.  I admit, I was scared to have four of you to take care of.  I wondered how I was going to get it all done, how I would handle four children and a busy life.   Now I realize how silly that was of me, and what I’d give to go back in time.  I’d never complain about how sick I felt.  I would never have been scared of having to care for four of you.  I would never have worried about how we were going to find enough money to pay for four college educations.  I wouldn’t have worried about that.   Instead, I would have marched straight forward, with confidence and excitement, for underneath my uncertainty, I always felt so excited and so in love with you.  If I could go back in time and change the past, I’d only worry about one thing… how I was going to be able to tell you, to show you, just how much I love you, in the lifetime we would have together.  That’s what I’d worry about; because that’s really all that matters.

Noah, you made me help see your brothers and sisters in ways I had never viewed them before.  Feeling you grow and move inside of me, I realize now what Gabriel, Michael and Isabelle’s birth mothers must have felt, how they must have loved them from the beginning too.  How lucky I am to get to be their mom, because I can’t imagine the pain their birth mothers must have gone through in having to “lose” their child too.  Feeling the grief I have in losing you, their grief is real as well.

Noah, you taught me to be okay with not having control over life.  You coming early, despite our best attempts to keep you inside, to protect you from this harsh outside world, were in the end, out of our control.  In case you didn’t know, your mommy, she’s a planner.  I plan the week, the month and even the year in advance.  I’ve done this since I was a little girl.  I think it might be an oldest child thing.  I find comfort in having a plan.  I get excited when things go as planned.  I feel stress free when I’m in control of how things are going, because I’ve worked it all out in my head and there’s a plan for how it should go.  But you taught me just how silly that living only by a plan can be.  See honey, you,  my precious, you were a surprise.  The best surprise in my whole entire life, but you were our surprise.

We didn’t expect you.... we were told we couldn’t have you.  God sent you to us, maybe you picked us.  Either the case, you were just what Daddy and I needed, what our whole family needed.  You taught me that it’s okay NOT to have a plan.  That sometimes, surprises and not having any control is WAY better than a plan.  See, I’ve learned that in my attempts to make life less stressful,  by following life in a certain way, I’ve been missing out on all the great things along the way.  Instead of enjoying the view and seeing all that’s out there, I’m too focused on getting to the end of the plan.  You, my baby, you showed me a new way of living... a life without a plan, a life where I don’t have to be or even want to be in control.  A life where living with my eyes, heart and mind is open to anything.

Noah, I struggle with why God took you home as quickly it seems as he put you into my arms.  I don’t think I’ll ever be okay with it.  I’ve realized no matter the answer, that I’ll never stop wishing it was the way I wanted it to be instead.  I’ll never understand and I’ve got to be okay with that.  What I do find some consolation in, is that I pray someday we will get to meet again.  I’ve dreamed of what that day will look like.  I wonder what it will be like when I come to Heaven (God willing).  I’ve said it before but I want you to know, before you went to be with Jesus, I really didn’t want to leave this world.  Death scared me.  Not any more Noah, I think about and feel confident that Heaven is going to be even more special than I ever dreamed and hoped.  You want to know why?  Noah, Heaven has to be the greatest place ever, because you are there. 

I dream of getting to the gates and on the other side, I see you.  You look like you’d be in your mid-twenties.  You’re tall, just like Daddy with strong muscles and light brown hair.  When I get to the other side of the gate, you reach out with your long arms and you embrace me.  Feeling your arms wrapped around me, you hold me tight for a long time and whisper in my ear… I love you Mom, I’ve waited a long time to tell you face to face.  You then take my hand and lead me into Heaven.  From there the images fade, but I feel happy, love and peace like I’ve never felt before.  That my son, is how I picture our next meeting to be.  I’ll continue to dream of that day.

Until then Noah, I need your help.  My heart is so broken and I long so much for you, but I know we can’t be together now.  I pray you will stay by us, in our lives forever.  Send us signs, reminders that you are okay and that you watch over us.  Please do.  But my dear son, what I need your help from now, is to help me to find a way to go on.  I need to be a good mother, the best mother I can be to Gabriel, Michael and Isabelle.  Help me to find patience, compassion, altruistic love in an unwavering commitment that is directed always to them. 

When I feel frustration and anger start to seep in as struggles come, help me to replace it with the focus of what I’d do if I can turn back time.  Help me to remember my only worry, is to help Gabriel, Michael, Isabelle, Jarrett and all of the other special people in my life know, the love I feel for them in the lifetime we have to share together.

Noah, please be with your brothers and sister. Please help them to understand that while Dad and I are so sad, our hearts are more and more in love with them every day.  Please help them always to remember that while they did not come from Dad and my genes, our connection is one of extra special recognition.  Help them to remember that in being chosen, our love formed in intermingled ways that it can never be untangled.  See, once you’re chosen, there’s no undoing it.  Help Gabriel, Michael and Isabelle to grow and find happiness in their lives.  Help guide them to make the best choices and to remember we only want the best for them, even though that might mean sometimes we don’t see eye to eye.  Help them to learn to live with the grief they must bear, for they’ve had more losses in their lives than Daddy and me.  Help them to know we will always be there for them, always love them, and always think of them as one of our greatest gifts. 

Noah, there is a list a million items long of all the things I wanted to do with you, of all the memories we as a family of six were going to create.  Now that slate has been wiped clean and I don’t know what our future will be like.  Here’s mommy trying to be okay again with no plan, no control.  Help me, help us, to find happiness in life again.  Help me, help us, to never stop seeing the rainbows you place in our path. Help me, help us, to feel confident that life still can have a meaning after losing you.   Help my heart heal, help our hearts heal, but let us never forget just how precious each minute of life is.  Help me to smile again like I smiled the minute you were born.  He me, help us, to feel that again.  Help me Noah.  Please, help us all.

Our family of six

Noah, if there’s one thing I never want you to forget, it is this.  Noah James Haskovec you are loved and loved by so many.  Noah, in your life you showed us the power of prayer, the importance of having faith, the gifts that kindness and support are, and mostly you showed us love.  My precious son, I have and will never stop loving you.  You will always be one of my greatest blessings and my life was made so much better, all because of you.

I will miss you forever.  I  will love you forever Noah James. 

  Until we meet again… Mommy

The gift bag and letter...

Just a few days after we came home from the hospital, after kissing our son goodbye for the very last time, I found a gift bag on our table.  The truth is it was actually one of a few gift bags around our house, thanks in part to the sincere kindness from others.

In the month that we spent away from our house at the hospital, our wonderful family and friends stepped in to care for the kids, kept our house running and accepted all the kind presents that were shared with us.  When Jarrett and I came home, I tried my best to keep all the gifts, cards, and presents organized so I could write a thank you. I set up a make shift thank you "office", at the end of our table and I tried to write a thank you to everyone who had shared so much love.  I'm sure I missed one, probably a few.  If you are the one or maybe the few I missed, please accept my apologizes, things were a bit out of control and I fell behind.

But still I tried to write a personal message of appreciation and express in words just how thankful we are.  Each night I'd sit down at the table and write notes of thanks... for hours.  With Noah being gone, writing thank you's became my focus and I felt the urgency to get them out as quickly as the kindness came in.  I think partially it was a way to keep my mind preoccupied with something other than the sadness replaying over and over how we lost him.  It also allowed me the chance to talk about Noah, to share my favorite things about him, to personally write a note to hundreds of you, to tell you again, just how wonderful my son was.  I know I'll never get tired of talking about him, I hope you don't get tired of listening.

While the distraction of writing the thank you's was great, each night after I'd stop writing I'd feel so depressed.  It was everything in me just to stand up from the table, and go get ready for bed.  I didn't care, I had no will to live.... as sad and as harsh as it sounds, it was the truth.  It was only a few weeks ago, these were the thoughts, I faced every single day, many times an hour.

One of those nights, I sat at the table, with a stack of neatly piled thank you's, our laptop next to me, and a glass of water, when I looked over to see the gift bag and a card sticking out the top.  My goal was always to write a thank you right after opening each card or gift and I knew I didn't have it in me to write another thank you that night, so I debated,  do I open it tonight or wait until the morning?  I sat there, telling myself I should get up and go to bed and for some reason I couldn't move.  I stared at the bag and let one of those moments, I now am able to see coming like the headlights of a car on a two-lane, Iowa road, pierce through my whole body.  The sadness, the deep pain and ache in my core, when I realize just what we are going through.  The realization that no matter how hard I try, I'm not going to wake up from this terrible nightmare and realize it is all a bad dream.  It is our reality.  Its terrible and that's how I felt that night.

I reached across the table, grabbed the bag and opened the card.  I read the outside of the card, "Wrapping you in love at a time when words fall short."  I opened the card, "With heartfelt sympathy for your loss."  Another beautiful card I wish I never had to read, but one that will be saved among a stack of many more to be packed up someday in a box labeled "Noah's things".  I noticed the card was still empty, nothing written on the pristine pages, no signature of who sent the card... it was empty... the way I felt inside.

Looking at the card without the signature, it took me a moment to realize in my other hand held a letter that had been inside the card. I opened the letter, a handwritten, several page note and like the post I shared yesterday within the first sentence, I felt myself holding my breath and feeling speechless at the kindness I was receiving... from a stranger.

The letter read...

Dear Angie, Jarrett and family,
I know I am a complete stranger to you, but I wanted to send my deepest, most heartfelt sympathies to you for the loss of your precious Noah James.  I go to church with some of your friends and she has shared your journey with me from early on.  I write this letter to you with the most broken heart and I know words like "I'm sorry for your loss" will do nothing to bring Noah back to this Earth.  There really are no words for this kind of situation, yet I wanted you to know that I continue to pray for your beautiful family every single day.

Since our friend told me of your story I have had you on my mind and in my heart.  I would find myself praying for you throughout the hours of the day and even through the night.  I have a 10-month old daughter and each night as I laid her down to sleep, she and I prayed for baby Noah, that Jesus would heal his frail little body and that he would strengthen him.  We prayed for you, Angie, and your husband and your 3 other children, that God would bring you all comfort, and that you would all feel his loving arms around you at all times.  This is still my prayer today, Angie.  As Noah has gone to be with Jesus, I pray that you can physically feel God's arms around you.  I pray he brings you comfort beyond understanding and I pray he brings you joy with each rising sun.

I realized by the end of the second paragraph, this wasn't a letter I could enjoy alone.  I called Jarrett to come sit by me, "You have to come see this," I said, "It's from a complete stranger and just reading the beginning I'm blown away by her care."

As a believer in Christ my whole life, I still can't explain why things like this happen to such amazing people.  I love Jesus with my whole heart and I know he does amazing miracles all the time still... yet why didn't he heal Noah?  I will never know and neither will you.  The only thing we can rest in knowing is that God is sovereign.  His plan and his ways are perfect and sometimes beyond our comprehension.  I know and trust that God had Noah here on this Earth for a short time but it was for a reason and it had significant purpose.

I couldn't help it, the tears and emotions I tried to keep shoved down inside me, burst through the surface and I sobbed into Jarrett's shirt as he stood next to me sitting.  "I just don't understand.  This isn't right.  It isn't fair. We didn't deserve this, did we?"  I knew this kind woman's note was telling me all truths and I was angry that I will never get to know why He took my precious baby.  I knew she was right but it was the first time it had actually registered with me that no matter how much I beg, no matter who I talk to, I'm never going to know why God didn't heal my son.  I put the letter down and cried into Jarrett who wrapped his arms around me and said not a single word.

Crying for me lately has been like a faucet filling up a water glass.  The tears pour out, the emotions, oh so many of them, water rush down my cheeks but like a cup filled to the brim, at a certain point, you just have to turn the faucet off.  It's the same way with me too.  I cry, I bawl, I weep until I think every drop of liquid has left my body and then, like the faucet I turn it off.  Get yourself together Angie  and just like that the tears are gone.... until the next time.

Wiping the tears away and brushing off any extra moisture from Jarrett's shirt that I could, I turned back to the table and picked the letter back up.

Noah's life really was a miracle Angie.  Look at how many people he touched in just 12 days.  I pray that when my life is over, I will leave the same kind of legacy that Noah James did.  In just 12 days, Noah loved, he was a fighter, he shared with others the message of Jesus through your faith, he brought joy, he taught us how to stand united with one voice in prayer.  Angie, your baby was a miracle!  His life was FULL and RICH and although it was short, he did more than a lot of people do in their entire life.  I am so thankful God allowed Noah to be here for those 12 days as it greatly impacted so many lives.  Now Noah rests in Heaven with the King of Kings and I know he is having the best time.

As quickly as the tears had been turned off, reading her paragraph about all that Noah had done, brought them back in full stream... this time I wasn't angry, but proud, happy and so thankful for those 12 days.  So full of admiration in my son that others had seen what I had witnessed first hand in getting to be his mother.  She was right, Noah wasn't just a miracle to us, be he was that to others as well... even a woman, another mother, with whom our eyes had never met.

When I learned that Noah has passed away, my heart grieved.  I've never felt grief like that before.  I prayed through tears and was overwhelmed with the presence of our Lord.  Angie and Jarrett, God shared with me a vivid picture that I want to share with you.  As I prayed for your family, this is what I saw...

At first I saw a picture of Jesus.  He was wearing his white rob and he was shining brighter than any star.  In his arms, he held a very small and frail baby boy.  I know it was Noah.  He was gazing upon him and all that was coming out of his eyes was love for Noah.  He had him safely in his arms and was caring for him just as you did Angie.  Noah looked so peaceful in the arms of Jesus.

Next I saw Jesus again and this time Noah was on his hip.  Noah was chubby!  He had this smile that would light up any room and his hair was all kinds of blond.  He was a beautiful baby boy and he and Jesus were the best of buddies!  Noah was so healthy and full of life!"

I also heard the Holy Spirit say to me... "Tell them how much Noah loves them."  I wanted you to know Angie and Jarrett that Noah loves you.  He knew of your presence around him as he laid in the NICU and he loved to smell you and feel your hands against his skin.  He never got the chance to say it himself, but he thought you were the "BEST" parents in the entire world.  He loved that God chose you to be his mommy and daddy and he is so thankful that you let him go live with Jesus.  He is so happy and he can't wait to hug you both again when you join him in Heaven.

The streaks of mascara permanently smeared across my face, were being scrubbed away by more tears that followed.  I looked up from the letter into Jarrett's eyes, and I said, "I feel like I've just received a letter from Heaven telling me what Noah's life is like there."  Jarrett wiped away his tears and said, "It is just so nice to know this person shared with us what she saw.  It's so reassuring."  It's such a comfort as I've wondered what Heaven must be like for him, I said.  "Dad," I paused, "He's chubby."  as my voice cracked and trailed off.  The weeping returned, not because of sadness but in gladness, thanks to the hope, the vision, the comfort shared in her words.

I had this bracelet made for you Angie.  Not only do I hope it brings you some sort of comfort, but I hope you see it as a small way to carry Noah with you each day.  I also have one with my daughter's name on it and I rarely leave the house without it on.  I hope you like it and I hope it reminds you of your precious baby boy every time you look at it.  I had the angel charm put on it as well because you were always referring to him as your angel.

I reached into the gift bag and pulled out another small cloth bag.  I opened the draw strings and pulled out a beautiful Noah bracelet.  It is baby blue, reads my son's name, the name I hoped I'd grow so accustom to seeing over the years that I'd take it for granted... but that was not to be.  Seeing Noah's name now is so special to me, a visual reminder of the gift I was given and loved more than life.  The gift I had to let go home to our maker.  I put the precious gift on my wrist and fastened it tightly, telling Jarrett I'm going to wear this until it falls off of me someday, and then I'm going to find a way to fix it so I can wear it again.

I know the road ahead of you is long but please know that I, and many others continue to pray for your family on a daily basis.  I pray that God will bring you great joy in the days ahead.  Keep your heads up and try to continue putting one foot in front of the other.  Jesus is by your side.  He will sustain you through this time.  I send all my love and prayers!

Sincerely,

Your friend in the faith

I set the letter down, I looked down at the gift she had given me, and I felt happy.  I sincerely felt happy.  I looked at Jarrett and said, "Dad, this is from a complete stranger... and the comfort and reassurance she's provided to us... I'm blown away. "  Jarrett hugged me, I embraced him back... and together we stood up from the table and walked to our room to go to bed.  Her gift, her letter, so powerful, so meaningful, and the answer to my prayers... yet again.

In the days since that gift bag arrived at our house and made its way to our dining room table, I've read her letter over and over.  I've taken it to work with me, kept it in my bag when I felt so weak and needed a reminder to have faith, "Noah is so happy..."   I took the letter with me to San Diego and I kept it near me each day as I journeyed through grief on that bench I sat for hours.   

I have no idea who this special person is but I'm so thankful she shared how her life was impacted because of Noah.  And I so indebted to her for what she gave us, gave me.  Her messages of hope, of continuing to have faith even though there will be no answers, and to be confident our son is in a place of happiness, of comfort and where he is no longer held by the limitations of his tiny body that restricted him here.  My son is chubby!  What a wonderful vision that is to me. And what peace is gives me.  I can find that reminder by looking down at my wrist and seeing the four letters put together to make my angels name... N O A H.  

I said it last night, I'll say it tonight and I'll probably preach this for the rest of my days here... the kindness, love and support we felt from all of you because of our son's arrival is one of the greatest gifts this experience has brought us, second probably only to the gift of our son himself.  

I am moved beyond words most days when I reflect, when Jarrett and I talk and think about just how much love has been showered upon us.  It is honestly what has carried us through.  We feel God carrying us through the barren, desert sand.  We feel so many of you continuing to care, to pray for us, and to spread kindness with others, because of a tiny 1 pound 11 ounce baby boy that laid in a NICU and taught us about making the world a little kinder, more caring, more abundantly aware of the many blessings around us.

Thank you my new friend in the faith... while I may never know your name or meet you face to face, I hope you know in your heart, you've given a mother with a broken heart, a reason to keep going.  And finally, those multi-colored pens you used to write that beautiful letter...  I never knew a letter could look like a rainbow,  but I think you've done just that.  

Until next time,

Angie

Acts of kindness... from strangers.

We have been the recipients of so much kindness this past six weeks, it makes our hearts feel abundantly full, despite being broken.  I guess that's maybe a gift through the burden of grief.  Nonetheless, we are so so grateful.

The countless cards, gifts of remembrance, meals to sustain us, gifts for the kids, plaques, statues, memorials to honor our son, so many precious, thoughtful gifts of kindness we will never forget.  From family, from friends, from co-workers, all so precious, so appreciated, so meaningful.  

And on top of that we've received gifts from complete strangers.  Yes, people who we've never met but, who were moved by Noah's presence here, that they shared with us their kindness as well.

Last night driving home from San Diego, I prayed much of the way for God to bring us comfort, some peace, some reassurance and strength that we will get through this.  I felt so refreshed from the hours I sat alone on a bench along the beach staring out into the ocean, but as each mile closer to home passed, I started to feel the pain of the grief, I pushed down into my stomach, start to resurface.  Passing through Yuma, I looked out the window, and holding back tears, asked Jarrett, "How do we get past this? I just want to feel peace, reassurance that we will find a way through this. and I don't just mean barely getting by." Jarrett responded, "We will get through this, God will help us find a way to enjoy life again, to feel comfort in this life. He will, I know."  

The miles passed and Jarrett and I used it as a time to talk about our goals, to try and think about what we want our lives to look like in 3 to 5 years, even though I think we both question the purpose.  We realize fully through this, we really have no control... God is in control.  I wonder what the purpose is for trying to create goals, like I said before, God just tell me what you want me to do.  I'll listen, you have my attention... just tell me.  But we have to have something to work for, so we talked about what our lives might look like.  Funny, how our goals are so different than they were just 7 months ago when the year turned over to 2015.  We thought we needed a bigger house, we wanted to find a way to spread out, to have more space.  Now our goals are all about experiences... where do we want to take the kids on family vacations before they grow up and leave us.  Its about the memories we can create, not about the number of bathrooms in our home.  A different perspective.

Pulling into the driveway, I took a deep breath, the same deep breaths I remember taking in the final minutes of Noah's life.  The deep breaths to try and find more air... its like my lungs stopped working too.  And that's how I felt walking back into my house.  My life was inside, and for some reason, I was dragging my feet to walk back in.  It wasn't because of the kids, it was because I knew on the other side of that door was the reality that Noah wasn't there.  That he will never be there.  It, is, just, terrible.

I gasped another breath of air and walked inside.  Isabelle came running and Michael said, "Hi Mom."  I was home and for about 45 minutes life was busily filled with stories of what the kids did with Nana and Papa, all the fun they had and the fun chores they helped with.  Michael was thrilled he got to help touch up the paint on our doors.  He said he'd be willing to do chores everyday if it meant he could paint.  Jumping right back into our normal routine, it was like how our life was on June 5th... normal.  A sense of normal I now dread.  As we said goodbye to Nana and Papa, it felt weird.  I'm not sure we know how to live a week, several weeks, even a month without having them here.  We've come to depend upon them like we depend on the trees to provide oxygen.  

Jarrett took Jack for a walk and I returned to our bedroom to unpack our suitcases.  The sadness back, the grief, the negotiating with God of what I was supposed to have done to have been able to keep my son.  Why God?  Why?  Where is our comfort?  Where is our peace?

And then Jarrett walked through the door.  In his hand he carried a few pieces of mail and a red heart covered package.  He handed it to me and said, "Do you know someone by this name from Missouri?"  I shook my head thinking the only people I know there are my cousins.  I carefully opened up the packaged, pulled out two envelopes and a small box.  I started reading...

Jarrett stood over my shoulder as I read the letter out loud.  Not even two sentences in, I was sobbing.  It reads...
My name is Tabitha...The only reason I feel like I know you is that I'm friends with your cousins... I looked Sarah up one day and she had on her page to please pray for you and a link to your blog...I clicked and read your story.  I prayed for you and your family and I especially prayed for Baby Noah.   
She continued on...
I would check in on your blog every evening after realizing what a diligent blog poser you are and to see how I could best pray for you all.  When I clicked and saw the blog post, "Services for Noah James Haskovec," I couldn't read any further and wept uncontrollably.  It took me a while to gather my composure and the ability to read on, even though I did not want to.  I was hoping when I clicked on that evening it would have read, "A Good Day", what I read instead was not what I was expecting.  
I read on and was so amazed at your bravery, faith and trust in God.  Even though I have no idea how you maintained your unwavering faith, I feel it was God carrying you.  I am sure you are familiar with the Footprints in the Sand poem.  And just like the poem explains, when there is only one set of footprints, you are not alone, instead God is carrying you.  You have no footprints next to His right now, because he will be carrying you for quite sometime, let him.

As I was reading the post about the details of the NILMDTS photographer and the favorite aspects of Noah she was able to capture, I kept getting my focus and attention drawn to your heart, your broken heart that had once beat right next to his.  I could feel the pain your heart is feeling without his heart beating with yours and I felt moved by the Holy Spirit to bring you the smallest bit of what I hope will feel like comfort.

Just know this wasn't me being called to get you this gift, I was just reading your blog and praying for you when I genuinely felt called to bring comfort close to your heart.  Please open the box now Angie...

I opened the box and the moment my eyes looked down at the locket inscribed with the initials n H j, I too wept uncontrollably.  

Jarrett glanced down and the tears he had been trying so hard to hold back, left his eyes and rolled down his cheeks.  I opened the locket and saw this...

 Inscribed on the top cover it reads "Noah James  6-13-2015

Weeping tears of comfort, of sincere awe, thanking a woman I had never met, who felt called to send us such a wonderful gift.  In that moment I felt like God was wrapping his arms around me, as if to say, I am here.  I am with you even though you feel alone.

I looked at Jarrett, looked back at her letter and continued reading...

As I was praying for you I felt called to bring something of Noah as close to your heart as possible and to have it stay there to bring you peace.  I felt moved to search out a locket.  Literally, Angie, this is exactly what happened.  Feeling such a strong feeling to pursue this, I Google searched, "lockets" and came to a website where you could customize a blank locket.  None of what was created was of my choosing.  It was all inspired by the Holy Spirit.  I felt immediately led to put Noah's initials on the front, the inside I was told to put his name and only his birth date.  I, myself started to intervene and started typing the date he passed, but I could feel the Holy Spirit telling me "no".  I felt I was being told his birthday was what belonged there.  From the NILMDTS photos I felt immediately drawn to the one of Noah's beautiful face with your wedding ring and your hands stacked together on him.  A sign of his life created through your life and his life treasured together through your love.  I also think that Noah's hand is so symbolic of how his tiny hand touched so many lives, including mine, a complete stranger to your family.  

I read on, as Jarrett and I held our breaths and wondered what else she was going to say.  For she had already provided us with comfort, peace and reassurance I hadn't felt in the 28 days it had been since Noah left us.

Noah has taught me in his brief, but so important life to be more patient with our children.  We have a six year old son, a four year old daughter, and an 18 month old son.  Noah has caused me to rock my baby longer at night time.  He caused me to stop doing dishes today and play Marbleworks with my other children instead.  Noah has taught me not to take time with them for granted as I often have.  Noah has taught me to have unwavering faith in the One who created him for such a purpose.  Our small group at church is doing a 365 day chronological study of the Bible and I'm not going to lie, sometimes reading Numbers is not the most exciting biblical passage to read, but I find myself reading more intently now, looking for words of comfort to help understand Noah's purpose.  I am realizing Noah's purpose for me is to draw closer to God through Word, my family and realizing that every hair on his downy soft head was created with the love and skill of the greatest Master craftsman.  The Master who took the time to plan out how Noah's short life could ripple across the country in such a short time and profoundly affect my life.  The life of someone I would have otherwise never known.  How divine!

Angie, I hope this small gift is accepted knowing it didn't really come from me.  I was just an instrument of diving intervention.  I never in a million years would have thought of sending you this gift.  Every detail was given to me as an inspiration from God.  I hope that wearing this close to your heart, brings a sense of peace and comfort in knowing that your heart will always beat for two now and that he will always be a part of every beat moving forward.  "Always in my heart" was what I felt called to have written on the back, I could feel it.  And I want to clarify, that it is not just your heart Noah will reside in, but you and your husband will reside in Noah's heart as well. 

You and your family will continue to be in my prayers, especially prayers of strength and comfort.

In Christ, 
Tabitha.

I set the letter on the table, picked up the locket, wiped tears flowing down my cheeks onto my shirt below.  Jarrett walked to the end table to grab the box of tissues and said, "I'd say that's God answering our prayers huh?"  We both wept, but not the tears I expected to cry.  These were tears of pure heartfelt gratitude.  A complete stranger.  A woman I have never met, and all because of Noah our lives were intertwined.  She had listened to what she felt she was called to do, to say, to give, and the impact she had, truly awe-inspiring.

It was the comfort I was pleading God to give me.  It was the strength to keep going and the reassurance in knowing, he is okay.  I need to be okay too.  In her act of kindness she had not only given us the most beautiful locket, but her words, her actions... a reminder of just how God is truly at work in this plan.  While I don't understand, I just need to keep trust and faith.  She had restored that for me, when I again felt so weak.

I've often thought about Noah's purpose and while I can think of many gifts he gave us in his short but mighty life, it gives me so much comfort and peace to know that others, our family, our friends, co-workers and yes, even strangers, found his life to be meaningful to them as well.  I agree with what Tabitha said, Noah did show us how to have unwavering faith, how to not take time for granted and how to show love and kindness as often as we can.

I will never forget Tabitha and the feelings she helped restore for me.  I sent her a message last night to say how much I appreciate what she did and she responded saying, " Angie, 100% this wasn't me, all thanks go to God.  At first when I was being guided, I thought, this is crazy, she doesn't  even know me nor do I know her very well and no joke I heard God tell me, "But I do"  God guided me from that moment on.  You are welcome Angie, I'm glad the locket made its way home."

Acts of kindness, I feel undeserving.  We are thankful beyond words.  Love, support, strength, reassurance... from so many of you.  We appreciate every single card, thought, text, gift, meal, it all.

As I wear this locket close to my heart, I am reminded to trust, to have faith and to count my blessings.  Noah was a blessing, and so are each of you.  Thank you, thank you, thank you.

PS:  In the envelope from Tabitha I found another note... it was marked, "read last"  In her final note she mentioned that her family just happened to have gone on vacation to San Diego a week ago. She said they had visited the Del and saw the same rainbow banner wrapped around the Del's tower.  Tabitha said the rest of the time they were at the beach she would glance up and think to herself, "I wish Angie could see this."  She continued, "To see that you made it, made my heart leap for joy and I know God is working in amazing ways all around us.  We are a 36 hour drive from San Diego, you a 5 hour drive and we both saw the same banner that made us think of Noah.  How divine!"

I smiled reading her note.. I knew exactly what she was talking about.  See the day we arrived in San Diego seeing that rainbow banner at the top of the tower was one of the first images we saw.  I know its meaning is different to almost every single person in this country, but to me, it reminds me of my son.  The lady in the front lobby told me it was put up on June 26th (the day after Noah passed) and coincidentally the banner was removed the evening of July 19th, the evening we had arrived in San Diego.  I felt like it was Noah reminding us he was with us, and as it was taken down by the next morning, I took it as a message from him that it was okay to think about things other than just him.

Life has to go on.... It's okay Mom.  I'm in Heaven.   That's the message I heard from my son.

Until next time,
Angie

Tomorrow I'll share a second story of the gift from another stranger...the letter that gives me an insight into what our Noah's life is like up in Heaven.  It's pretty amazing... stay tuned.