Fun Things Are Still Happening

Even with all of the sadness and heartache, we're finding happy moments, too. In fact, the highlight of the week? DATE NIGHT!

So, Brad and I have not been on an "official" date in forever. In fact, I think the last thing that really counted as a date was our weekend get-away to the Bahamas late January. Our world was rocked after that, and dates took on a whole new meaning. All of the sudden, the only time we were getting a babysitter was so that we could go to doctor appointments (there were lots of them). And then in the hospital on Friday nights, my parents would take Gavin so that Brad and I could have a "date". It was nice, and something I looked forward to each slowly passing week. But come on, a date in the hospital? We made the best of it - dinner brought in most of the time and we made it through several of the Oscar nominated movies (King's Speech was by far our fave).

Then after Grace was born and passed away, we'd get a babysitter to watch Gavin so the two of us could go to meetings with the funeral home or cemetery. And then to attend the support group at Spectrum. Yes, we might grab dinner before the group meeting, but this was far from a real date.

Initially, I had mixed feelings about our plans for our night out on Friday. We went to dinner and then the Keith Urban concert. Keith is my absolute favorite. Mainly because of his music, but he's quite handsome as well :) And Brad really likes his music, too, given he rocks it out on the guitar (not just your typical country artist). We've seen him in concert now four times.

So, why the mixed feelings? Well, tickets went on sale in February. Arg, February. A month filled with so many ups and downs and unknowns. A month (and those to follow) focused on making the most challenging decisions we've ever faced. How could I even think about going to a concert? To top it off, the concert (July 22) was just two days after our due date for Grace. There would be no way we'd be able to go if by some chance I carried to term. And even if I didn't carry to term, and if Grace lived, we'd have a newborn who would need lots of attention given the great possibility that she wouldn't be healthy. So, the concert was an absolute no.

In June, in an effort to try to resume some normal activities, we heavily debated buying tickets (surprisingly, they were still available). I struggle with a lot of guilt still. Guilt that I shouldn't be doing certain things, like fun things, because "if I'd had a normal pregnancy, I'd still be pregnant and I wouldn't be able to do these things" or "I'd have a newborn who I'd be caring for". So, things like going to a concert, or out for a glass of wine with girlfriends, or starting to train for my next big race (I'm aiming to run the Grand Rapids half marathon in October - more on that later) - these things would not be possible if things had turned out the way that we dreamed. If Grace had lived. I shouldn't be doing them.

Well, we took a leap of faith and bought the tickets. I'm glad that we did. We had an awesome night out. But I'd trade it all - and then some - if we just had our Gracie with us. It's a struggle to deal with these guilty feelings.

But, we really can still have fun. And it is documented in this photo...


We've done other things the past weeks that have brought great joy. I think that both Grace and Mark would want us to be doing things as a family. Though our family is two very important people short. Mixed feelings about all of these fun times, but again, I'm overall glad that we stepped out of our cocoon to enjoy them. So, here's a run down...

Gavin's first baseball game at the Whitecaps.

Bath time, which is always great fun...

Picking (and clearly eating) strawberries in June...

Playing in the mud after a massive, but short-lived downpour...

Going to the cottage. This was difficult and so strange without Mark there. We had the pontoon fixed and it was just so weird to have Brad driving it instead of Mark. It makes my eyes tear up just to think about it. But I do really think that this is what Mark would want. He'd want us to be at a place that he so enjoyed...


Brad enjoying the last Sam Adams from the fridge at the cottage. Cheers Mark!

Shirley and the girls - I think this photo is so ADORABLE. Lexi found Grandpa's MSU hat and it looks just perfect on her!


Swimming at MaeMe and BaPa's...

And this photo makes me smile, so I'll include in my post. Last month, Gavin and I were coloring and I asked him if he would like to color the wheels on the firetruck. So, he drew these cute little singular lines that start on the wheel and travel down the page. He did this to every truck in the coloring book (20+ pages). This is his two year old interpretation of coloring the wheels. I like it!

So, overall, several good moments. And some difficult as well. This week was my due date - July 20. I wasn't sure what to expect going into it, but knew that it would probably be difficult. It was. I couldn't get Grace off of my mind all day. I suppose that's not a bad thing. But it creates a lasting lump-in-my-throat-tears-in-my-eyes kind of feeling. I read a helpful poem lately. I've read lots of them lately (many supplied by you, my blog followers). The gist of this particular poem is that anytime you have this feeling, it is your angel hugging you tightly around the neck. So, I like to think that I'm getting lots of hugs from my Grace lately. And it helps me to deal with the emotions. I just wish I could hug her back. Some day I suppose. For now, I'm sure she's getting lots of hugs in heaven.

Finding the Lemonade

A couple months ago, I posted about the abundance of lemons we had falling on us. And that I was trying to see the lemonade in all of it. Trying to make good out of bad. Well, there are certainly glimmers of lemonade - literally and figuratively - surrounding us.

The past few days, several of our friends' children held lemonade stands with proceeds benefiting Grace's March of Dimes "bandingtogether" fund. It all started with our dear friend Elizabeth's daughter Leksi (7 years old). She was seeking a way to give back in honor of the little friend she will never get to meet in person (some day in heaven they will run freely together). She wanted to help. So, her mom and other family helped her organize a lemonade stand this weekend. This family has been so wonderful to us with all that we've been through. Friends through the good and the bad - and shining with grace through the bad.

And then the "movement" caught on with other children holding their own lemonade stands for Grace. A friend of mine from high school, who I had not kept in close contact with over the years, has an amazing story that has touched and helped me the past months. Ten years ago (eleven later this year), Krista's sister Gina lost her daughter Grace in a similar way to our Grace's loss. Gina's Grace had a deletion of a chromosome that led to just a very short life here on Earth. Gina had an emotionally and physically difficult pregnancy with Grace, but has honored her life so beautifully. In fact, her story with Grace was featured in last year's Artprize here in Grand Rapids.

Both Krista and Gina have been wonderful supporters to me the past several months. In my last post, I mentioned how we've found support in unexpected ways. In people who we wouldn't expect. Again, I had not kept in close contact with Krista. But here she was, along with Gina, sending several cards and emails of support. Following our blog. Sharing their story with me. Letting me know that I wasn't alone in my emotional journey. So many parallels can be drawn between their story and ours - a journey to respect the lives that God has given us and travel down a road that neither of us expected to be asked to travel.

So, Krista's three adorable girls decided they wanted to join the lemonade revolution to honor their cousin Grace and our little Grace. On Thursday, they set up a stand and sold $111.58 worth of lemonade. Here they are in their cute little stand [Emerson and Kelly on the left, Reese on the right (and one of Krista's daycare girlies in the middle)] ...


Saturday was Leksi's lemonade stand. It was a hot and humid day, but through it, Leksi raised $227.78. And the donations are still coming - so that's not even a final tally. Here she is in her cute little stand...


And then, the third stand. My childhood friend Linnaea's children also felt compelled to help. They held a stand on Saturday for a bit and will be repeating it in a couple of weeks. More to come on their generous efforts!

Krista's girls also had a very special gift for Gavin. When Gina's Grace was born and passed away, Krista was 38+ weeks pregnant with her first child Emerson. Gina gave Emerson, who then shared with her younger sisters over the years, a very special remembrance of their cousin Grace. The girls have cherished their little Grace bunny over the past ten years (it really is the "Grace" bunny - from Beanie Babies). The bunny has brought them great comfort in their loss. But they wanted to pass it along to another little one who was in need of comfort. So, they selflessly passed their bunny on to the next generation, to Gavin. Look how cute - a little praying Grace bunny! Gavin loves it! In fact, he learned how to do "prayer hands" earlier this year, so when he saw the bunny, he knew exactly what she was doing!

Wow! Such selfless acts from some of God's most precious creations. These children gave of their time and their profits to benefit a little girl whom they never met. They easily could have saved their lemonade stand proceeds and bought something for themselves. Instead, each and every one of them decided that they would give back. And collectively, they will become the largest donor to Grace's memorial fund. Who'd have thought a grassroots effort, thought up by one child and carried out by several, would turn into such a testament of giving. I'd say I'm speechless, but clearly I'm not, given the length of this post. I'm honored. I'm teary-eyed. I'm moved. I'm proud.

Thank you to these kiddos and to all who visited their stands and enjoyed a glass of lemonade. It was refreshing - very refreshing!

Leaving the Cocoon

So, the days in our cocoon are coming to a close. I'm officially back to work this week which means I've taken a huge step out into the "real world". We've spent so much time the past seven weeks staying close to home, mainly because it felt comfortable to just be around each other and our families. Our therapist calls it cocooning. Though I don't feel like I've evolved into a butterfly like most creatures who leave the cocoon. Rather, I feel a little vulnerable. A little scared. Anxious. But also a bit ready to get back into a routine and some normalcy, though a "new normal" as I've coined it.

My first day back to work was good. I'm so very fortunate to work with such supportive, understanding people. I was greeted warmly by them today. But I'm finding that not everyone knows "my story". "Oh, Erica, you're back, how wonderful. How's your baby?" Heart sinks. Awkward explanation ensues. I imagine it makes some people uncomfortable, like they regret even asking. But I must say, I really don't mind talking about it. In fact, I love talking about Grace.

I'm glad when people acknowledge the situation and tell me that they've been thinking about us or praying for us. So, word of advice if you're struggling with how to approach me or anyone else who has gone through a similar situation. It is MUCH better to talk to me, acknowledge Grace and all we've been through...rather than to avoid eye contact or walk the other direction when you see me coming. This hasn't happened to me at work, but we have experienced it elsewhere in the past weeks. It's hurtful, particularly when it comes from someone you would think wouldn't do it. Funny how some people surprise you in such wonderful ways through a tragedy like we've experienced...and others surprise you in the complete opposite way. Ways you wouldn't expect and will never forget. Grace was a human being who lived and breathed. Yes, just for a short time. But she was real. She lived inside of me for 32 weeks. I think it's hard for some people to connect this. They didn't meet her, so to them she's not quite real.

When you talk to me, I might get teary eyed. I don't do it because I'm uncomfortable with talking with you or wish that you hadn't brought it up. It's not that at all. I miss my daughter. I miss what could have been. And I'm just a little emotional about it still. So, please don't take my tears the wrong way. And sometimes I find tears in my eyes because I'm happy that you've acknowledged her - I'm proud that you think enough of Grace to talk with me about her. It's a brave thing to do, so thank you to those of you who tackle what might be an awkward or tough conversation.

There's no manual on how to handle these very difficult life challenges. I'm just finding that these are the things that seem right to me. Going through this has given me a keener sense for how to approach people who have experienced tragedy - a true empathy for their pain. Mostly, I think I understand now what a process grieving can be. It's not a day, rather a lifetime. To many, Grace's passing was May 24 (and probably most won't even remember the day, and that's okay and expected). To me, her death is forever. There will be birthdays, holidays, vacations she'll never experience. Her picture on my desk at work will never change. She won't age, I won't get to replace her picture at 3 months, 6 months, 9 months, a year...and so on. She won't be with us on family vacations or in family photos. She won't go through the milestones, though in my head I think I will often think of what milestone she would be achieving, or what she might look like at that particular age.

I hope, as well, that Grace's story will bring a deeper appreciation for children to others. Brad and I were in the Carter's store yesterday picking up gifts for friends/family of ours who just had babies [congrats Kendra/Roger (twins, woohoo!) and Jeni/Rob!]. It's a bit difficult for me to step into the baby girl section of the store, but I managed yesterday. I must say, I'm not at all envious of other pregnant women or those who have recently had babies (I'm surrounded by lots of you). I am genuinely grateful that you didn't have to experience the loss that we did. And that your precious babies are healthy. I think some women who have experienced what we have may be envious. But I'm not. Your babies are not Grace, I'm not jealous of you for what you have. I know what being a mom is - it's wonderful. I'm so glad that you get to experience this.

So, back to my Carter's story. I'm checking out and there is a woman there shopping with her two children and her mom. Her three-ish year old daughter is throwing a major temper tantrum - screaming at the top of her lungs. Frustrating, I've been there. As she was yelling at her daughter, threatening her with "the vinegar when we get home" (not sure what that even means, I assume it is vinegar in her mouth...not my choice for how to parent, but I'll try not to judge), I couldn't help but think how incredibly lucky she was to have her daughter. How lucky she was that her daughter had the lungs to scream so loud. It's moments like these that I now have a deeper appreciation for...and really, I'm now convinced that 99% of public temper tantrums are really brought on by us as parents. We put our children in adult situations and expect them to behave. Her daughter didn't want to be shopping at boring Carter's. She wanted to be doing kid stuff. If she had, there probably would have been no tantrum. So, lesson learned...appreciate them, even when they don't meet your expectations. You're lucky to have them.

Alright, I'm done ranting random thoughts for the night. I feel much better now, so off to bed I go to prepare for another day of the "new normal" out in the "real world". Thanks to those of you who help to make my transition back a good one! I'm glad to be back working on the projects that engage me and bring me great satisfaction. It's nice to use that part of my brain again!

Father and Son Pony Ride

Looking through old photos, we came across this photo from 1985 of Brad with his dad. Funny, we replicated it with Brad and Gavin last fall without even knowing it! 25 years later and the pony ride is still fun!

Eulogy for Mark

We've spent the past two (very busy) days celebrating Mark's life. So many who loved him shared memories at last evening's visitation. Here were my thoughts...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I met Mark twelve years ago when I had, what I didn’t even fully know at the time, a great honor - the honor of dating his son, Brad. Brad and I met while working together, becoming wonderful friends, ultimately dating and now married and the proud parents of our son Gavin and our angel Grace.

When Brad and I married in 2004, we began our search to buy a home. We searched and searched and searched the Grand Rapids area for just the right place. While searching, our hearts kept coming back to the neighborhood just down the road from Mark and Shirley. The neighborhood where we frequently took walks during our dating years, dreaming that one day we might live there. And that’s just what we did – bought a home … right up the street from my in-laws.

As you can imagine, everyone called us crazy for doing this. “Are you sure you want to live that close?” “Won’t they get on your nerves?” “You know they will be stopping by unannounced ALL of the time.” All of the typical comments people make about their in-laws. I’d kindly smile and refute all of the comments. I’m blessed with the unordinary. I’d tell them, “you don’t know my in-laws; I love them as much as my own family.”

It has been an absolute joy living just a bike ride away from Mark and Shirley. We’ll miss those unannounced visits from Mark, who would joyfully arrive on his bike to have a beer with Brad and me. To talk and laugh with us. To watch the weekend’s football game. To help us with our latest construction or garden project. To give his grandson an airplane ride.

We still catch ourselves looking out the window, expecting to see Mark peddling around our neighborhood with his recognizable riding swagger, huge smile on his face. I’m sure he’s riding that bike in heaven right now.

It’s amazing to know that so many of you gathered today have had similar experiences with Mark. Your stories are equally as much a testament to the life Mark lived. So many people gathered here today and over the past several weeks, as Mark faced his final days, that I could say I’m amazed at how many people love him. But to be honest, I’m not amazed. I’m not amazed because I know the person Mark was – and how could you not absolutely love that person. It’s no shock to me that so many people adore him as much as I do.

Brad and I have been blessed to be molded in our marriage by watching from a true example of what marriage is. Mark and Shirley’s love and devotion to each other is like no other I’ve ever seen. They are each other’s best friend. I’m blessed every day with the son they raised to be just like them.

The day that we learned that Mark would have only days left with us, Brad and I stopped by the cemetery to see our daughter Grace. We visit Grace nearly every day, but our visit with her that day felt different. I told her that her grandpa would be joining her in heaven soon. That she could show him around when he arrived. While we were sitting with her, I had this incredible sense of calm come over me. It was as though she was there telling me it would all be okay.

None of this is the way we planned or, frankly, the way we want it to be. But it is, none-the-less, comforting to some degree to know that Grace and Mark have each other. She is one lucky girl to have him there with her - to hold her, to love her….to teach her how to golf or how to bait a hook. How to fix that darn pontoon at the cottage. To just be with her.

Mark, thank you for all that you have brought to my life. We love you and we will miss you every day. I can’t wait to see you again someday!

Heaven is Graced Again

Today, heaven became a fuller - and even more joyous - place with another angel. Mark left the world this afternoon to be joined with God. He was surrounded by those who loved him most, and who will miss him most. Just 58 short years here. But he lived life more fully in those 58 years than most achieve in a longer lifetime.

Husband. Dad. Grandpa. Son. Brother. Friend. Angel. No more cancer. No more pain. Just Mark. And even better than ever enjoying eternal life.

Our angels are reunited. What a lucky girl Grace is to have him!