New Year's

New Year's has never been one of my favorite holidays.  For one thing, there seems to be an expectation to do something crazy and wild to bring in the new year.  As a child, this meant sleepovers at home with friends, and as I got older it usually meant I should be out drinking and partying.  Usually, however, I ended up at home, in my pajamas, and often asleep before midnight even hit.  For another thing, the start of a new year seems the perfect opportunity to lament over everything you DIDN'T do in the year that is now ending.  I didn't keep to that diet I started, my exercise program lasted just a few weeks, I didn't read as many books as I planned...and so on and so forth.  Also, New Year's is a reminder that the holiday season is over, and that the long stretch of school (as a kid or now as a teacher) is upon us.  For these reasons, I've never been a big fan of New Year's, and most years I even dreaded New Year's Eve and Day.


This year something feels different.  I'm not dreading this holiday.  Perhaps it's because I have a husband who is more than happy to stay in and watch news bloopers on YouTube while snuggling with the puppies.  Maybe it's because I can look back and see how much I've grown and changed over the past year.  Possibly it's because I feel that good things are coming for us in 2016.  Maybe because I now can see that a new year is not necessarily for starting over, but it is for continuing what you have started.


In 2015, my goal was to become more positive and grateful.  I don't mean to brag, but I feel that I have very successfully met this goal.  Since January 1, I have kept a gratitude journal in which every day I list one thing I am grateful for.  Some days it was harder than others to find something to record, but every day I found something.  I plan to continue this in 2016.  I had other goals that I did not meet quite so successfully...I wanted to read every day.  For a librarian, I read very little.  But instead of getting down on myself for not doing this, I will make a new and better effort to do so in 2016.  Other goals are a bit more out of my control...making and growing a baby, for example.  But what I learned in 2015 is that I have purpose outside of being a mother.  I can be happy with what I DO have, while continuing to hope for more children.


To celebrate all that 2015 brought us, I created a highlight video.  As I did this, I realized how much we did this year!  From my trips to California and Virginia, to our Cure Search walk and blood drive and childhood cancer awareness events, to time with family and friends, 2015 was a pretty darn good year.  Sure, we continue to struggle with our grief, but in spite of that we managed to live our lives and even enjoy it.  It's nice to go into a new year with a positive attitude and a good feeling.  That is what I wish for all of you as well.  Don't dwell on what you didn't do or what didn't happen, but look at the good that did come your way.  And I hope everyone goes into a happy and successful 2016.

The Business of Death

The death of a loved one is a traumatic, emotional event.  And the emotional aftermath lasts weeks, months, and years.  Unfortunately, death is also a business event.  And apparently, the business aftermath can last weeks, months, and years.

As a loved one is sick or dying, there is business to take care of...time off...medical care...insurance coverage questions...when is it time to stop medical intervention.  Shortly after a loved one dies, there is more business to take care of...funeral plans, burial decisions, obituary wording.  And in the weeks and months that follow, there is the business of paying for all of this...the medical care, the funeral expenses, possibly dealing with life insurance claims and health insurance questions.  And even more than a year later, a bill can unexpectedly show up in your mailbox, for care your loved one received over THIRTEEN months ago.

Unfortunately, hospitals and insurance companies are businesses...they deal with money, not with emotion.  Now, that's not to say that the hospital staff are entirely removed from the emotion of death...the nurses and doctors and staff on the floor are just as human as we are.  But once you get into the business of hospital, it's just that...business.  And so from the business side, I shouldn't be surprised by a bill over a year after Henry's death.

But I'm not a business...I'm an emotional human...a still-grieving mother...and that bill is just another reminder of all the horrors my baby endured.  I understand that the hospital did not send us this bill as the kick in the gut it felt like, and I know there were hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of medical care to sort out between the hospital and insurance company.  I understand the business side of death and dying.  But that doesn't protect my emotional side from the impact.

Merry Christmas from A Monster's Mission

Wishing everyone a Merry Christmas from A Monster's Mission and the Seretta family. We are grateful for the love and support we receive today and every day. We hope everyone can find something, no matter how big or small, that makes them smile today. Happy holidays!

Christmas

Christmas for me has changed over the years.  When I was a little kid, Christmas was searching for the perfect Christmas tree and carefully putting our treasured ornaments on it before the underneath filled with presents.  Christmas was spending Christmas Eve at Grandma's with Jack, Patti, Chris and Leslie...the adults teasing (or sometimes not!) about looking at lights before opening presents.  Christmas was waking up early with Jamie on Christmas morning...stockings...trying to get Mom and Dad out of bed to open presents.  Christmas was egg casserole and other goodies for brunch.

As I got older, Christmas was time I got at home...a break from college and studying...time to hang out with my family.  Christmas was still (until just a few years ago) waking up early on Christmas morning with Jamie...stockings...and trying to get Mom and Dad AND Trent out of bed to open presents.  As we moved out of college and into adulting, Christmas became the sacred time of year when the whole family got to be together.  And as I got engaged, married, and pregnant, Christmas was a time of dreaming up traditions to start with our own kids.

To be honest, Christmas this year is hard.  It's even harder than it was last year, for me at least.  Last year, I was in a fog...numb almost...and I ignored everything Christmas.  So in a way, this year is my first Christmas without Henry.  And it's another Christmas without Brady and my mom.  I wish we had a tiny toddler running around...that we had to place the Christmas tree and its ornaments strategically not because of the dogs, but because of the kid!  I wish we visited Santa after Santa, trying to get that perfect picture.  I wish we had a Christmas card mailed out...filled with pictures of our happy family.  I wish we had to pack up half the house to travel to grandparents' houses for Christmas celebrations.  I wish Tim and I were shopping for presents, and trying to decide what the perfect "Santa" present would be.

I've done the things all the articles suggest...I've taken care of me...I've given myself a "five-minute" rule where I can decide even five minutes before an event if I will attend or not - and my friends and family have been so graciously accepting of this...I've done things to honor the boys - put up their ornaments, and we'll get something to leave for them on their graves...  But it's still hard.  It's hard seeing families visiting Santa...it's hard seeing all of the elf pictures...it's hard seeing complete, happy families.

Yet I still have so much to be thankful for.  I got to spend several days in Firth with my family all together.  Jamie and I found treasures, shared laughs and memories.  We found a new game that we all enjoyed.  Dad cooked hearty and tasty meals that we enjoyed together.  We had our morning coffee in the sunroom.  And the family time isn't over!  Tomorrow night we will gather with Tim's family, along with the Stowe's, where there will no doubt be some amazing food, but even more importantly some time we can all be together and just enjoy each others' company.  And on Christmas, Tim and I will get some "date" time at a movie, we'll visit the boys, and we'll have some more quality time with his family complete with his mom's traditional Christmas lasagna (that tastes amazing and weighs about 80 pounds!!)  We might play some games...games where we can be hilariously inappropriate and just have fun and laugh. 

So it's true...Christmas this year isn't what I would have dreamed of a few years ago...but it isn't all bad.  And, in the spirit of Christmas wishes, we can still hope and wish that next Christmas we will have that tiny little elf to fuss over, play with, and love.  After all, what is Christmas without a little childlike spirit of innocent belief and hope??

Cherish

I've spent the start of my break in Firth with my family.  Jamie and I have kept busy today by going through some of the things that Mom had stashed away.  We found many treasures...we found the dress that Mom wore to my wedding, and it fit me...we found my FAVORITE childhood book...Little Boy with a Drum (rat-a-tat-rat-a-tat rum-a-tum-tum)...we found the book The Wonderful Way that Babies Are Made, which I remember reading the small print meant for parents and thinking we were so sneaky...we found a trunk full of baby clothes that we must have worn when we were tiny......we found a Gators sweatsuit which must have been a hand-me-down from our Florida cousins...we found our Cabbage Patch Kids dolls...we found a copy of Love You Forever, which Mom had left a special note in.  Of course, we also found a lot of things that can be sent to garage sales, Goodwill, or the trash can.

However, we also found some things that seem to have had sentimental value, or family history, but we don't know the stories.  We found some tiny (real) silverware...baby spoons and such...some silver serving dishes...a couple of sets of china...even the sets of real silverware that Mom had told me about, and told me which set went to which one of us, and I can't even remember those details!  It's another reminder to take the time to ask for the stories...find out what the family heirlooms are and what makes them so special...  Especially this time of year, when we spend time with family and friends, take the time to BE present and cherish that time together.  You never know when a day will come that you'll wish you had asked this, or done that.

I am thankful for the time I've had with my sister today, sharing memories, laughs, and time together. I'm looking forward to a bit more time with my family, and then some time with Tim and his family a little later in the week.  We are surrounded by family that loves and supports us unconditionally, and for that I am forever grateful!

Fear

According to my ever faithful Timehop...two years ago was my first full day on bedrest.  I remember the emotions of the day before vividly.  It was supposed to be just my normal weekly check and shot, and Tim was busy at work so I went by myself.  Everything had been looking great the week before, so we weren't worried.  Once the doctor came in, he looked at the ultrasound and told me I wouldn't be going to work anymore.  After that, I think I was in shock.  I nodded along with all of the things that he told me, but my mind was blank.  It felt like a bad dream...about the same time in the pregnancy we had lost Brady, and now my body was showing signs of doing the same thing.  I took my doctor's letter (that I knew I'd need for HR), and got into my car to drive home.  I was shaking, anxious, scared, sad...all of the feelings I didn't have walking in that day.  I took care of business...calling Tim, and my secretary and principal, but the rest of that night is a blur.  I was terrified that something was going to happen to Henry, and I wasn't sure I could handle that.

Fear is a funny thing.  It changes shape, and at times can fade away, but I don't think it ever really disappears.  Our fears change tremendously throughout our lives.  When I was younger, I remember a span of time that I was terrified to get into the car because I was sure we'd be in an accident (and I have NO idea where that fear came from, but I remember it!)  Then there was another period of time I refused to walk by my window at night because some creature might reach in and grab me.  As I went through high school I started worrying about college, afraid I wouldn't be able to afford it.  And then in college, being afraid I'd never actually finish (which I did...after six and a half years...)  Then, of course, the fears of finding a job...one that you like and that pays the bills.  And I remember being afraid I'd never find someone that I could spend this crazy life with.

I now know that I can make it through tough times...even losing another child.  Yet I still have fears...everyone does.  I'm afraid of trying to find my purpose in my current life, as a childless mother.   I'm afraid of not getting pregnant...and how I will continue to deal with that if it takes months and months...or more.  I'm also afraid of GETTING pregnant, and then trying to get a baby to term before he or she is born.  I'm afraid of losing the people I love...I'm afraid I don't make enough time for these people while we have it.  But I try not to live in fear.  I try to keep these fears at bay, and to do that I focus on what I DO have, and what I am grateful for.  It doesn't make the fear disappear, but it makes it manageable, bearable.  As we move into Christmas and New Year's, I will continue to try to focus on the good...hope for the dreams we have to come true (sooner perhaps rather than later)...and ENJOY the time we have with the people we love.

A Not-So-Beautiful Mess

I think perhaps I'm struggling...  Last night, I got irrationally angry with Tim because he was a few minutes later leaving the gym than I thought he would be.  I didn't just get irritated...I was angry, almost furious.  And even though in my head I knew that I was being ridiculous and irrational, I just couldn't quite get myself together.  Then this morning I woke up, still feeling a little cranky from my (irrational) anger last night, and I ended up full-out sobbing because I didn't like how my hair ended up.  That's right...I was sobbing because of a perceived bad-hair day...because I couldn't get my headband to sit nicely in my hair, even though it looked absolutely fine.  Again, in my head I knew I was being ridiculous, but there was nothing I could do to stop the frustration.

I'm pretty sure all of this emotion is from pent-up emotion...anger...sadness...grief.  In fact, I know that's what it is.  I thought I had been doing pretty well.  We made it through November, including Henry's angelversary and Thanksgiving.  We had the energy and spirit to put up a small tree, to hang stockings, and to set out a few other decorations.  I found myself listening to Christmas music in the car as I drive around.  I've made it to the last week of work before a two-week break (which of course will go way too fast.)  Unfortunately, all of that is just on the surface.  On the surface, I'm doing pretty well.  But underneath that smooth surface, I'm a mess.  I see pictures of kids with Santa, and my stomach drops.  I hear about everyone's happy holiday celebration plans, and inside I scowl.  I've been searching all over town (as has my sister in her respective area) for red and green gumdrops like my mom always had at Christmas, and I get angrier with each store that doesn't have them.  I think about our upcoming holiday plans, and I get an anxious pit in my stomach.  I've avoided one holiday celebration already, and I feel guilty.  Last Christmas, we avoided everything holiday related.  This year, I'm trying, but I'm afraid at some point (like last night and this morning) I'm just going to lose it.

I've never been one to wear my emotions on my sleeve.  Even when Henry was in the hospital, we would get tough news, and I would wait until I was in the bathroom by myself to cry...even though it was absolutely appropriate for me to cry, and knowing that no one would judge me for my emotions.  Now the problem is I don't know how to let these emotions out...until they build up to a point where I have no choice.  Unfortunately, Tim usually bears the brunt of this build up.  So if you see me or ask how I'm doing, and I suddenly burst into tears, don't be alarmed.  Or if I get angry over something trivial, know that my anger is not actually at that trivial thing.  And if you see Tim, give him a big hug and a smile, knowing he puts up with all of my crazy mood swings with nothing but love and a smile. 

(And pardon the crazy get-up...it's spirit week at school...)

Worldwide Candle Lighting

Tonight we lit candles for our boys that left this world all too soon as part of The Compassionate Friends Worldwide Candle Lighting. Around the world, people are lighting candles in memory of their children at 7:00 pm, thus creating a wave of light. This afternoon, we also lit candles with people with whom we have come together to grieve through Compassionate Friends.

One thing that was said at the candle lighting ceremony this afternoon was that we don't remember these children because they died, we remember them because they lived. Our boys, even in their short lives, have had such an impact and given us much to remember. We wish we had gotten more time with them, but we will always remember the time we did have.

To all of our friends and family who are grieving the loss of a child, remember that you are not alone. Share your child with anyone who will listen, tell their story, and keep the light of their life alive in your heart.

Why Me?

My current read is Every Day I Fight by Stuart Scott.  Stuart Scott first caught my attention with this quote, which I believe came from his acceptance speech at the ESPY's..."When you die, it does not mean you lose to cancer.  You beat cancer by how you live, and the manner in which you live.  So live.  Live.  Fight like hell, and when you get too tired to fight, then lay down and rest and let somebody else fight for you."  This hit home for me, as I always hate to think of people like my mom, my friend Jill, or Henry "losing" to cancer.  In this mindset, they all won...they lived their lives, however long or short, they loved, they enjoyed, they put their heart into living.  So I figured I might find some inspiration in his book.

I'm not too far into it...maybe chapter 3 or 4, and I've already found parts that truly speak to me.  This morning, the part that I read talked about asking why me?  This is what Stuart Scott had to say on the matter, "I hadn't allowed myself a single Why me? moment.  Because, if I start asking Why me as it relates to cancer, I'd have to start asking Why me? as it relates to all my good fortune:  Why was I able to do this job I love?  Why was I blessed with Sydni and Taelor and such a great family?  Once you start questioning the bad stuff that comes your way, you have to start questioning the good - and I wouldn't trade the good for anything," (p 25).

Tim and I have had our moments, when we ask Why us?  Why was our honeymoon period a short two weeks?  Why could we not bring Brady home?  Why did we lose my mom?  Why was it so difficult to get Henry here safely, only to lose him short months later?  Why were we "chosen" to carry so much pain and grief?  However, these moments are pretty few and far between.  Perhaps it is because we have so much good fortune that we DON'T want to start questioning.  Why did we find each other and know so quickly that we were meant to be together?  Why did we get to spend months anticipating Brady's arrival...hearing his heartbeat...feeling his movements (for me, at least)?  Why did Tim and my mom connect so quickly?  Why have we both found jobs that we truly enjoy, and colleagues that support us unconditionally?  Why do we have family surrounding us with love and support, requiring nothing in return?  Why have we been blessed with three crazy and lovable fur babies?  Why were we so fortunate to find and buy the perfect house, that we can grow into?  These "why" questions are just as unanswerable as the bad ones.  Sure, we worked hard to get where we are in our careers.  Yes, we both had our share of not as good relationships before finding each other.  Sadly, part of the reason that we got the house we had is thanks to Henry.  But that only gives us a piece of the answer.  The rest of the answer is as unknowable as the answer to any of the Why us? questions.

Does this mean that I never wonder Why us?  Of course not.  It just means that most of the time I would prefer to be grateful for what I have, while still grieving what I have lost.  It keeps me from going completely crazy...it keeps my feet on the ground...and it keeps me moving forward.

Hope

We've all said it, and probably had it said to us...don't get your hopes up.  We say it to our kids, in regards to getting something they want...we say it to ourselves, such as in hoping for a snow day...we say it when we're in a tough situation, worried about what the outcome might be.  I have said it to myself over and over again.  But now I'm starting to wonder...what really is the harm in getting our hopes up?  Isn't hope one of those positive things that can get us through a tough spot?  Will we be less disappointed in not getting something if we hadn't hoped for it in the first place? 

I think back to when we headed to the hospital when I was having contractions with Brady.  We didn't stop and say we'd better not get our hopes up.  Those few days we were in the hospital, all we did was hope...hope that what the doctors and nurses were doing would stop the labor, and that Brady could cook in there at least another week or two, and hopefully more.  When that didn't happen, it hurt...it hurt like hell.  But I don't think it would have hurt any less had we not hoped.  We knew that there was a possibility I would still go into full labor...we knew there was a chance he would be born too young to get to the NICU...we knew even if he made it to 24 weeks and was born he'd face an uphill battle.  But we kept hoping anyway.

When my mom was diagnosed with cancer, we hoped.  We hoped the surgery would take care of it...we hoped that the treatments would take care of it.  When I got put on bedrest with Henry, we hoped.  We hoped we would make it past 24 weeks, then past 28 weeks, then into the thirties, and maybe even to 36 weeks.  Sure, we knew that we could lose him like we did Brady, but we kept hoping.  And when Henry was diagnosed with cancer, we hoped.  We hoped that the treatments would take care of the cancer, and that the dialysis and medicines would help get the fluids down so he could start coming off some of the paralytics and breathe on his own.  We hoped that the ECMO would give his body the rest it needed so that he could continue his fight.  Even that night, when we knew we were probably facing the worst, we kept hoping.  In all of these situations (except bedrest, of course), the outcome was unimaginably painful.  But I still believe that having hope didn't make this outcome any more painful.  It just made the journey to that outcome a bit more bearable.

Even now, we hope to get pregnant, we hope to become parents again.  That doesn't make it more painful each month when we find out we're not...it makes the whole month more bearable.  What is life, anyway, without hopes and dreams?  That's what we work for, what motivates us, what keeps us going.  So, despite all that we've been through, we continue to hope.  And although I may still say to myself at times...don't get your hopes up...I don't think I quite mean it anymore.