Jars of Clay - The valley song

This is one of the many songs that I listen to over and over again...

We wish you a merry Christmas

Christmas in Heaven

I found this little poem today, so I thought I would share it here....

'Tis Christmas in Heaven 
What a beautiful sight! 
It's my first one here; 
Everything is all right. 


The crib is adorned 
With the brilliance of stars, 
Wisemen have come 
From Venus and Mars. 


I've met all our dear ones 
Who preceded us here; 
The reunion was lovely, 
An event full of cheer. 


And tonight we'll all gather, 
In reverence we'll kneel, 
For the Babe in the cradle 
Up in Heaven is Real. 


I think of my family 
that I left behind 
And I pray that your Christmas 
Is as blessed as mine 


Please shed no more tears, 
For my soul is at rest, 
Just love one another; 
Live life to its best. 


Yes, It's Christmas In Heaven, 
So I've heard them say, 
Yet, Christmas In Heaven 
Happens every day.

Xander Dozing

What My Thanksgiving Was And Should Have Been

As thanksgiving approaches, I can't help but to think about thanksgiving last year. My son was very sick and in the hospital. He needed to get surgery on his stomach, and came really close to death. I also can't help to think about what should be this thanksgiving. This thanksgiving I should have been 20 weeks pregnant, but I'm not. We lost our baby at the end of August. I can't help but to remember my plan of finding out the week of thanksgiving whether we were having a boy or a girl, and telling everyone at thanksgiving dinner. It was "gonna be awesome". Instead, I am still mourning the loss of our little one. It funny how you can make a lifetime of plans for someone who is still in the womb, only a few weeks old...

An Open Letter About Miscarriage

I found this when I was just searching around the web. I love it, so I had to repost it.

A letter from women to their friends and family 
by Elizabeth Soutter Schwarzer

Date: Sat, 23 Mar 2002

When women experience the loss of a child, one of the first things they discover they have in common is a list of things they wish no one had ever said to them. The lists tend to be remarkably similar. The comments are rarely malicious – just misguided attempts to soothe.

This list was compiled as a way of helping other people understand pregnancy loss. While generated by mothers for mothers, it may also apply similarly to the fathers who have endured this loss.

When trying to help a woman who has lost a baby, the best rule of thumb is a matter of manners: don’t offer your personal opinion of her life, her choices, her prospects for children. No woman is looking to poll her acquaintances for their opinions on why it happened or how she should cope.

-Don’t say, “It’s God’s Will.” Even if we are members of the same congregation, unless you are a cleric and I am seeking your spiritual counseling, please don’t presume to tell me what God wants for me. Besides, many terrible things are God’s Will, that doesn’t make them less terrible.

-Don’t say, “It was for the best – there was probably something wrong with your baby.” The fact that something was wrong with the baby is what is making me so sad. My poor baby never had a chance. Please don’t try to comfort me by pointing that out.

-Don’t say, “You can always have another one.” This baby was never disposable. If had been given the choice between loosing this child or stabbing my eye out with a fork, I would have said, “Where’s the fork?” I would have died for this baby, just as you would die for your children.

-Don’t say, “Be grateful for the children you have.” If your mother died in a terrible wreck and you grieved, would that make you less grateful to have your father?

-Don’t say, “Thank God you lost the baby before you really loved it.” I loved my son or daughter. Whether I lost the baby after two weeks of pregnancy or just after birth, I loved him or her.

-Don’t say, “Isn’t it time you got over this and moved on?” It’s not something I enjoy, being grief-stricken. I wish it had never happened. But it did and it’s a part of me forever. The grief will ease on its own timeline, not mine – or yours.

-Don’t say, “Now you have an angel watching over you.” I didn’t want her to be my angel. I wanted her to bury me in my old age.

-Don’t say, “I understand how you feel.” Unless you’ve lost a child, you really don’t understand how I feel. And even if you have lost a child, everyone experiences grief differently.

-Don’t tell me horror stories of your neighbor or cousin or mother who had it worse. The last thing I need to hear right now is that it is possible to have this happen six times, or that I could carry until two days before my due-date and labor 20 hours for a dead baby. These stories frighten and horrify me and leave me up at night weeping in despair. Even if they have a happy ending, do not share these stories with me.

-Don’t pretend it didn’t happen and don’t change the subject when I bring it up. If I say, “Before the baby died…” or “when I was pregnant…” don’t get scared. If I’m talking about it, it means I want to. Let me. Pretending it didn’t happen will only make me feel utterly alone.

- Don’t say, “It’s not your fault.” It may not have been my fault, but it was my responsibility and I failed. The fact that I never stood a chance of succeeding only makes me feel worse. This tiny little being depended upon me to bring him safely into the world and I couldn’t do it. I was supposed to care for him for a lifetime, but I couldn’t even give him a childhood. I am so angry at my body you just can’t imagine.

-Don’t say, “Well, you weren’t too sure about this baby, anyway.” I already feel so guilty about ever having complained about morning sickness, or a child I wasn’t prepared for, or another mouth to feed that we couldn’t afford. I already fear that this baby died because I didn’t take the vitamins, or drank too much coffee, or had alcohol in the first few weeks when I didn’t know I was pregnant. I hate myself for any minute that I had reservations about this baby. Being unsure of my pregnancy isn’t the same as wanting my child to die – I never would have chosen for this to happen.

-Do say, “I am so sorry.” That’s enough. You don’t need to be eloquent. Say it and mean it and it will matter.

-Do say, “You’re going to be wonderful parents some day,” or “You’re wonderful parents and that baby was lucky to have you.” We both need to hear that.

-Do say, “I have lighted a candle for your baby,” or “I have said a prayer for your baby.”

-Do send flowers or a kind note – every one I receive makes me feel as though my baby was loved. Don’t resent it if I don’t respond.

-Don’t call more than once and don’t be angry if the machine is on and I don’t return your call. If we’re close friends and I am not responding to your attempts to help me, please don’t resent that, either. Help me by not needing anything from me for a while.

If you’re my boss or my co-worker:

-Do recognize that I have suffered a death in my family – not a medical condition.

-Do recognize that in addition to the physical after effects I may experience, I’m going to be grieving for quite some time. Please treat me as you would any person who has endured the tragic death of a loved one – I need time and space.

-DO understand if I do not attend baby showers/christening/birthday parties etc. And DON’T ask why I can’t come.

Please don’t bring your baby or toddler into the workplace. If your niece is pregnant, or your daughter just had a baby, please don’t share that with me right now. It’s not that I can’t be happy for anyone else, it’s that every smiling, cooing baby, every glowing new mother makes me ache so deep in my heart I can barely stand it. I may look okay to you, but there’s a good chance that I’m still crying every day. It may be weeks before I can go a whole hour without thinking about it. You’ll know when I’m ready – I’ll be the one to say, “Did your daughter have her baby?” or, “How is that precious little boy of yours? I haven’t seen him around the office in a while.”

Above all, please remember that this is the worst thing that ever happened to me. The word “miscarriage” is small and easy. But my baby’s death is monolithic and awful. It’s going to take me a while to figure out how to live with it. Bear with me.

X-man taking some steps

My baby boy is walking! He is way too cute!!!!!

Beautiful Poems

~These are a few poems I found that are beautiful and very sad. Don't read these if you don't want to cry!~


My Mom is a survivor, or so I've heard it said.
But I can hear her crying at night when all others are in bed.
I watch her lay awake at night and go to hold her hand.
She doesn't know I'm with her to help her understand.
But like the sands on the beach that never wash away...
I watch over my surviving mom, who thinks of me each day.
She wears a smile for others... a smile of disguise!
But through Heaven's door I see tears flowing from her eyes.
My mom tries to cope with death to keep my memory alive.
But anyone who knows her knows it is her way to survive.
As I watch over my surviving mom through Heaven's open door...
I try to tell her that angels protect me forevermore.
I know that doesn't help her... or ease the burden she bears.
So if you get a chance, go visit her... and show her that you care.
For no matter what she says... no matter what she feels.
My surviving mom has a broken heart that time won't ever heal. 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
We thought of you today, But that is nothing new
We thought of you yesterday And will tomorrow, too
We think of you in silence And make no outward show
For what it meant to lose you Only those who love you know
Remembering you is easy We do it everyday
It's the heartache of losing you That will never go away.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Today I saw you crying I sent you lots of love
I hope that you can feel it I'm here just up above
Today I jumped from cloud to cloud And flew across the sky
And God told me all about you And why you often cry
He told me that you were special And your love for me is so deep
He told me that one day I'll meet you here And in your arms I'll leap
I met a nice man the other day He sat me on his knee
He told me that he knew you, Mom And do you know what else he told me?
He told me all about you About your pretty face
About your kindness, love and joy About your sweet grace
I told that man I knew you Cause we were once so close
I grew in your belly, Mommy Just beneath your clothes
I told that man you talked to me And prayed for me each night
And how I felt your love right there And how you would hug me tight
No, you're not a stranger, Mom Although we're now apart
It's really not that far, Mommy I know I'm in your heart
I can't wait to see you, Mommy God says you'll be here soon
Until then, I'm with you And I love you to the moon
-------------------------------------------------------------------
I'll never know if you were a boy or a girl, or what I would have named you.
I'll never know what sports you liked, or your favorite toy, old or new.
I'll never know the color of your hair, or the beauty in your eyes.
I'll never be able to tickle your belly, or pinch your chubby little thighs.
I'll never see your "first day of school", or the drawings to hang up.
I'll never be able to kiss your boo boos, and bandage them all up.
I'll never see your graduation, or your homecoming dance.
I'll never see your first crush, and when you hold their hand.
I'll never see you walk down that aisle, whether it be a tux or a beautiful gown.
I'll never see your children, though I would have loved to have them around.
I'll never know which career you chose, or see that first promotion.
I'll never see your first new home, or the joy of knowing you accomplished it on your own.
I'll never see you grow wise with age, or learn from your mistakes.
God must have needed you, that's for sure, for something of importance.
I'll never know these things, that I would have held so close. Could this be a blessing in disguise?
Now....I'll never know. 

The worst week of my life.

This has been the worst week of my life. As everyone knows I was pregnant. On Monday things started to go wrong. So Jeff took me to the hospital. While we were there they couldn't really find anything wrong. They sent me home with the diagnoses of "threatened miscarriage" and told me to come back in two days for more test. We went back on Wednesday, they drew my blood, ran some test, and then I received the worst news ever... we had loss the baby. I felt as though someone stabbed me in the heart with a knife. Every breath since hearing that news has been labored. I can't stop thinking about what could have been with this baby. What is a boy or a girl? Did the baby have my eyes? or Jeff's smile? I can't stop thinking about one of my favorite things to do as a mother. I love going into the kids room after they fall asleep and put my hand on their chests and feel them breathing... that is something I will never be able to do with this baby. There will be no first smile, no first laugh. I have nothing tangible to remember this baby with. Only memories... The shock of finding out I was pregnant again, and the pain of find out I was no longer pregnant. Now I kiss Madalyn and Xander a little harder, and hug them a little longer. I love and cherish them. I am so blessed to have them. It really hurts not having my baby with us anymore, but it does bring some comfort knowing that he is heaven, and one day I will see him for the first time. "So baby let sweet Jesus hold you, until mom and dad can hold you" 

Conan is scary... AGAIN!!!

The second time Conan O'Brien has frightened my daughter!!!

The Forever Flush

When we went to the movies we discovered a toilet that would not stop flushing, so I had to take a video!

Michael Scott Paper company?

Check out this van we saw...

Pam Halpert saw it too!

Conan is scary!!!

This is a video of my daughter getting spooked by Conan O'Brien's fit! It is way to funny! It was featured on Conan's website too!
Right here---->http://teamcoco.com/content/conans-fit-sends-adorable-child-screaming-night