Mrs. H

A Letter to My Youngest

My precious little miracle,

Here we sit. It’s April 16th. I was supposed to work today, but you and I are both sick, and you need regular nebulizer treatments, so I stayed home with you. You definitely don’t feel good, but man, you’re so much healthier than this time a year ago. When I checked on you before coming to bed, your breathing was perfectly even. Your body is fighting this virus the same way you fight everything- stubborn, and head-on. You should be all better in just a couple more days. This has been hard on me, though. Harder than an outsider might fathom. But having you wheezing on April 16 just doesn’t set well with my heart.

Your wonderful Daddy and I have been through our share of rollercoaster life events in our marriage – moving, a career change for me, having a baby, medical issues for me with my gallbladder, losing his Mima, losing two babies early in pregnancy, having a second baby, losing my grandparents within four days of each other… we felt like we’d seen a lot. We weathered each rise and fall of the rollercoaster great because of our faith. We faced some positive and some negative surprises along the way, and of course the biggest (positive!!) surprise we ever had was having you! And what a wonderful, miraculous surprise you are!!! We felt we had faced it all, and then you got sick. Very sick. And you were just so very tiny still. Ten and a half weeks old. Our tiny, precious little miracle bug. Our little mermaid.

I relive those days over and over at random times. The days between April 9 and April 17 are all a blur. A blur that comes to a sudden, halting stop at 10:58 pm on April 17. The hours between then and the night of the 19th are a blur too, but a very different blur- where every minute seemed to last for hours. The hours stretched into seemingly days, and the days to weeks. Every time we almost lost you my heart would stop for long seconds, and I would die inside. Sometimes I wished the tears would come, and they wouldn’t. And other times, the floodgates would open and I couldn’t make them stop. I would hold your tiny fingers and crave the feeling of holding you close. I begged God to give me a chance to hold you again. And then the clock stopped again, and we were told we were at your last option. ECMO. I remember texting your Nurse Practioner, Katie, and begging her to come be with us. I am pretty sure I just said, “ECMO. It’s time. Please can you come.” And she of course came.

For eight and a half agonizingly long days, we had a family member always by your side. We moved into the Ronald McDonald House so we were able to be together as a whole family in the same building. And we settled into the hospital life. A life where everyone suddenly knew we were Elle’s family- from room 25. The days and nights of ECMO were stressful at first, but we settled into an amazing routine with the nursing team, and felt like we weren’t alone in this journey. And baby girl, we were never alone. God sent His very own angels right there into your room day and night to look over you. They never left you. They made it possible for us to sleep. I know they were angels because they never seemed to tire, and they brought such encouragement to us- directly from Heaven- to pull us through.

But through all of your victorious recovery after ECMO and everything, my brain can’t really move past the night of the 17th. And I’m not really sure how I’ll be tomorrow night when the clock is about to strike 11. I’m hoping I can go to bed somewhat early and sleep right through it. But I relive those moments of hearing the alarm go off, the nurse coming in, flipping on the lights, and you being so pale that you were blue. Her screaming down the hall for help. The rush of staff. And then more. And more. Calling your Daddy numerous times and finally calling your Pappy to go downstairs and wake him up to come to the hospital. Calling Granny and PawPaw. Asking for the Chaplain. The resident coming out to talk to us and update us on how you were doing. And I kept seeing his Batman light and knowing Jacob was watching over you, and surely God had sent us this resident as a sign that He was with us…

Your tiny fingers. Your little nose. I tried to memorize them all as we stood with some of our dearest friends around your bed and had you baptised.

It’s true that the whole 43 days at the hospital changed me, sure. But that night. The night of April 17. It’s a night that I will relive probably for the rest of my life. I pray that one year, the memory will be so very faded that I’ll strain my brain trying to remember the sequence of events. But I doubt that will ever happen. And that’s ok. Because it shaped who I am as a person, and who I am as a mother.

I treasure every little thing that any of the three of you does or says. I do my best to live in the moment in a way I had never done before. Because I know that a night like April 17, 2018, can sneak up any time and threaten to steal any one of you away from me, and I refuse to be left without a full catalog of priceless memories. So here’s to cataloguing memories, and if you are a mom when you finally read this, I pray you learn from what I learned the hard way. Don’t miss a moment. Treasure every tiny finger and every tiny toe on every single one of your babies, and notice as they get longer. Memorize every laugh. Trace every smile onto the stone of your mind. And live- really, truly LIVE with your kids.

I love you so very much, my precious girl. More than words could ever express, I am thankful for you and I love you. Always. Sleep good tonight, my ElleBug. Sweet dreams.

Love,

Mommy

Interested in reading Elle’s full story? Visit her CaringBridge site here.

A Letter To Myself – in the past

Dear Younger Me,

There’s so much I could say. You’re only a year younger than me right now. But there is so much coming ahead of you. Treasure every moment. There is going to be fear you’ve never felt. There is going to be joy that you can’t imagine. There will be sorrow beyond belief. It will be a rollercoaster ride. But there is nothing I will say to try to prevent any of it from happening. I won’t tell you what it is, or how it happened. I won’t tell you. But I will say that in the end, it will all be worth it. You will grow closer to your kids than you could ever imagine. You and Cody will have a relationship that is so much deeper than comprehension. Your faith will be tested, and will be found to be strong. You aren’t without fault. You will YELL at God. Both in your head, and literally out loud. You will be scared. You will be angry. You will lose a LOT of sleep. But you will learn lessons I couldn’t begin to outline in a simple note. It will be worth every moment of agony. It will be worth every single sleepless night. It will be worth the PTSD that is left as a shadow. Because you can’t truly know the joy of life without tasting the fear of death. I wouldn’t want to do it again. I pray you never relive this past year in any form. But if we do, I know from the year I’ve just come through that we will survive because God will carry us. He will carry you high on His shoulders this next year. Because there will be times you can’t even begin to walk. And I promise you, He will never, ever let you down.

-Your self, one year in the future

This note was inspired by the following song:
Dear Younger Me
by MercyMe

Dear younger me
Where do I start
If I could tell you everything that I have learned so far
Then you could be
One step ahead
Of all the painful memories still running thru my head
I wonder how much different things would be
Dear younger me,

Dear younger me
I cannot decide
Do I give some speech about how to get the most out of your life
Or do I go deep
And try to change
The choices that you’ll make cuz they’re choices that made me
Even though I love this crazy life
Sometimes I wish it was a smoother ride
Dear younger me, dear younger me

If I knew then what I know now
Condemnation would’ve had no power
My joy my pain would’ve never been my worth
If I knew then what I know now
Would’ve not been hard to figure out
What I would’ve changed if I had heard

Dear younger me
It’s not your fault
You were never meant to carry this beyond the cross
Dear younger me

You are holy
You are righteous
You are one of the redeemed
Set apart a brand new heart
You are free indeed

Every mountain every valley
Thru each heartache you will see
Every moment brings you closer
To who you were meant to be
Dear younger me, dear younger me

You are holy
You are righteous
You are one of the redeemed
Set apart a brand new heart
You are free indeed

Busy Bees

Y’all, it’s been a LONG time since I’ve written. Because, well, life. I think I probably have started the last umpteen posts that way, if I’d go back and read them. But seriously, life. Three busy kids and assistant teaching two days a week has a way of keeping me busy. We’re getting set to start building our new house, and finally getting settled into the rhythm of life living in our rent house. This week is our Spring Break, and I must admit that yesterday threw me for a loop. I had one fun outing planned for each day this week, but that was it. I mean, that was IT. I had nothing else planned. I didn’t really think about the weather forecast for rain several of our days off, or what that would do to all of our spirits. So they had done pretty much everything I had thought of for them to do including our outing for the day, and it was only 2pm. Seriously. I had pulled out worksheets, given them a craft project to make a Leprechaun trap from recycled materials, everything I could think of… I thought I might lose my mind if they kept asking me for more activities! Yesterday was ROUGH, y’all. Because I really don’t want to turn the tv on or let them have their kindles for the whole day… but they did end up with about three hours of screen time. (Which I’m not proud of, but honestly admitting!)

So this morning I decided to get smart. I pulled up my Pinterest boards and went through my sensory activity pins. And I was reminded of all the cool, fun things I used to do before I was too busy to make stuff for my kids. Or maybe lately I’m just too busy to care… hmm. Need some self reflection there. I determined we’d see what we had at home already, and then would grab a few things at Walmart to make our week a little more exciting. So I’m combining here some things we pulled out and did yesterday, some things we’re doing today, and then some links to some activities we’ll be doing later in the week.

Hopefully these ideas will keep your kiddos busy bees this spring – through rainy days, holidays, and any other “I’m BORED!” moments! (Although I did hear a great idea recently from an older, more experienced mom – she said if her kids ever say, “I’m BORED!” she gives them a rag and has them clean the baseboards. BRILLIANT!!! I plan to do that later in the week… maybe we’ll get some spring cleaning done around here, too!)

Activity Ideas

Processed with MOLDIV — I wish I remembered where I originally saw this idea. This one came back to me when I started going through my supply box looking for liquid starch, and there I saw the yellow colander. This time around, I have two kiddos doing the activity, though, so I got out my good one too. You can get an inexpensive colander at Dollar Tree or Walmart. I love that yellow one because it’s fun for art too – you can trace around it to make a huge flower! lol. It’s as simple as the picture looks – give your child the colander and a bunch of pipe cleaners, and just see what they do! You’ll be amazed at what they come up with, and the fine motor practice is phenomenal.

More Activity Links To Check Out!

Here are some more links to things we’ll be doing later in the week (I won’t promise a blog post because, well, life!) And also, if you’re just looking for some fun time fillers, be sure to check out Doodle Art Alley – Samantha is an AMAZING artist and does some brilliant work. She shares TONS of it for FREE on her website – all of it is there just ready for you to download and print! I printed off a bunch of stuff today and not only did I color with the Bigs earlier, Becca and I enjoyed Cody joining us this evening after the Littles had gone to bed in coloring bookmarks! We’ll take them and laminate them later this week and then she can use some, and share some with friends when she goes back to school!

Jell-O Scented Moldable Dough for Sensory Play from Sixty Second Parent

Rainbow Fruit Loop Sensory Bin from Love Play Learn

Liquid Starch Slime from Schooling Active Monkeys

Plus, here’s some stuff we’ve done in the past that is worth revisiting for St. Patrick’s Day!

St. Patrick’s Day Rainbow Activities

Rainbow Celery

Bell Pepper Shamrocks

We also picked up at Walmart a new super fun Paint by Sticker book – the kids love those! If your kids haven’t tried them, I highly recommend them for fine motor and numeral recognition practice… and plus they are just downright fun! Here’s one from Amazon (again, no longer an affiliate, just sharing for your benefit!) that we have and the kids love!

So between all of this and a ton of wonderful books, fun outings planned to a couple of parks, and a plan to hit up Dollar Tree for some window clings, some more stickers, and hopefully an easy crossword puzzle book for Becca… I think we’ll survive the rest of the week, and be better set up for some successfully fun weekends in the future, as well! 🙂

Advent Books

This is going to be a fairly quick post- it’s 2:30am and I’m only awake because a certain sweet little guy woke up needing some snuggles and some cough meds. (Tis the season!)

But I wanted to answer some questions about our Advent books project! There are a couple of different ways to do this, and it’s all over Pinterest, I feel sure. But here’s what we do:

I sift through all of our Christmas themed books and pick out 24 favorites. Each year I make sure that each child has at least one (this year it’s two) brand new books in the stack. Christmas Eve always ends with Becca reading us “Twas The Night Before Christmas.” Some certain books get wrapped every year- like the tiny Little Golden Book about a Christmas snowman that was mine as a kid, and the book Too Many Tamales, which is just one of my absolute favorites of all time. We also have to Take A Mouse To The Movies, and we have a favorite version of The Twelve Days of Christmas. I wrap each child’s books in their own pattern of paper (this year, I ran out of Gray’s paper, so he has two different patterns.) I also label each package with a sharpie and write the date in a LARGE “font” so that if the books get dropped, they can easily get put back into order!

We also do several other things for Advent. We have a felt Advent calendar whose pockets hide pieces of the nativity scene, and we add a piece each night, telling and retelling the story of Christ’s birth each night. This year, I added the Jesus Calling advent book to this, and on Becca’s nights, she reads us the next page in the book. We also have the Lego City Advent calendar, and a bowl of mini candy canes.

So the way I do this, is I plan the order of the books, and we begin with night one on our felt calendar being started by Becca pulling out the palm tree in Bethlehem and reading Jesus Calling. Then she opens day one of the advent calendar and builds the tiny toy. Gray then gets a mini candy cane to eat and opens book number 1! I read the book to both of them while he eats the candy cane, and then it’s off to bed! This occurs on all the odd nights. On the even nights, it flips and Gray does the felt Advent and Lego, and Becca gets the book and candy cane. Sometimes the book they open has a special significance with the felt character for the Advent story, but usually they are just fun Christmas books!

Another way I have heard to do this is to have a brand new book of any theme to open each night, and it’s a big gift of lots of new books at the end. I prefer the more frugal way of wrapping favorite books and making it a big fun surprise all over again! Talk about reinforcing a love of language and of reading!!

Happy Advent and happy reading!!

I See You

I see you.

You’re the friend who lost her baby too soon and lives daily in agony. While I can’t fathom your pain, I can imagine your grief. I see you.

You’re the friend who had a miscarriage last week. You walk around trying to live life as though nothing ever happened, but I feel you pain and I know the depth of your grief. Some who find out will say, “at least it was early,” as if that somehow makes it less of a loss. Trust me. I know. I see you.

You’re the friend who has a baby up at all hours of the night. You’re so thankful to be home after five painfully long months in the NICU, but you really just. want. sleep. And it’d be so nice if a nurse could just cover this feed for you… but oh yeah, you’re at home now. I feel the depth of your thankfulness, and yet I also know how very hard it is to adjust to life after the hospital. I see you.

You’re the friend whose husband didn’t turn out to be the man you thought he was. He abused your adopted children and in the process, ripped out your heart slowly in a way you never thought he could possibly. I can’t begin to fathom the depth of your pain, or your sorrow over all that was lost. I see you.

You’re the friend who would deeply love to be loved. You try to hide it by laughing it off and saying you’ll be single forever, but I know. I see it in your eyes. I would dearly love to find you your Mr. Right. You pour your heart and soul into your nephews, but I know you would have loved to have been a mother to your own little motley crew. I see you.

You’re the friend who pulled her son from public school as a last ditch effort to not lose him completely. He has so. many. unique. needs. He is an amazing kid, but you often don’t know who he is. You’re giving him your everything in an attempt to save him – from himself. And to save his siblings from him, too. I see you.

You’re the friend who just started sharing your knowledge online one day, and suddenly became a “sensation” in certain circles. Now, your entire life is critiqued and judged by women you’ve never met, and you feel you have to justify everything you do and don’t let your kids do. I have no idea how many emails and messages you receive on a regular basis, but I know it has to be overwhelming, all while you’re just trying to be a mom who helps her kids the way they need to be helped, and makes some money while doing it. I see you.

You’re the friend who moved hundreds of miles away and is now dealing with the fallout of the world of friendship – few are for forever… most are just friends for a time. And it hurts when people you thought were for forever, are actually just for a season. I’m still here. And I see you.

You’re the wife of a pastor in a tiny remote town, just trying to do what God called you to do. You’re an awesome mom, but you’re just plain lonely. You long for in-person friendship and fellowship from other women who can relate to you and don’t avoid you because you’re the pastor’s wife. I so deeply wish our long-distance friendship could be the in-person relationship that you so desperately need. I see you.

You’re that teacher at the car drop-off line at my daughter’s school. I don’t know what grade you teach, but I know your well-groomed look. You’re dressed to the nines and hair curled just so. You’ve got cute makeup and an empty left ring finger. When I rolled down my window and told you you looked nice today, I saw something else, too. You almost cried. You’re hiding something inside. And I’m so glad I said something. You told me I made your day, and I’m so glad I took those two seconds to really see you.

Maybe you’re a mom who is battling cancer, or a mom who just started a second job. Maybe you’re single, or maybe you’re married. Maybe you’re just out of college, or going back in your 50s because you never really followed your calling. But whoever you are, whatever you are dealing with in life, I see you. I feel your heart longing to be loved. I feel your heart desperate to break up with fear. I know the weight of your worry. I know your need to be beautiful. And you are, sweet sister, you are. You might not fit into a six or even a sixteen, but either way, you are exactly who God made you to be. And I see you. Do you take the time to see others for who they are? Do you allow yourself to feel their pain? It’s overwhelming. But it’s beautiful. God gives us friends to help pick each other up when the going gets rough, and to encourage us that God will never leave us, either. Because most importantly, He sees you. And He is your King. He is your Father. He is your Abba (Daddy).