Jude's 2 Year Photos {by Mommy}

I purchased a cardboard block letter from Hobby Lobby a couple of weeks ago and painted it red for a little outdoor photo session with Jude on Friday evening. It was terribly hot, Jude wanted to run around and play instead of pose, and he didn't care much for the boring photo prop, but I am definitely satisfied with the shots that I did get of him. It was nearly "golden hour," my favorite time of the day, and my boy was oh so handsome. While I was following him around, snapping away, he randomly gave me a flower for the very first time. This mama's heart was overjoyed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I love you, my beautiful boy.

Jude's 2nd Easter / 20 Months Old / Mom's Birthday

It's amazing to compare Jude this year to the tiny, baby version of Jude from last year. To see how he interacts with the activities of his second year of holidays. I love to watch him take part and enjoy it, even though he doesn't understand the purpose yet.

Jude on his first Easter

Jude doesn't understand who Jesus is yet, or what He did for us, but soon he will. It will be an honor to teach Jude about our Savior. I never got to teach Avery about the God who loves us. Instead, she saw His face before she could even see mine. On Easter, I can't help but think of those I love that are celebrating this victorious occasion with Jesus. This is our first Easter without my grandpa... and our fourth without Avery.

It's difficult not to let my mind wander to my childhood, egg hunts in my grandparents' yard, never dreaming of a day when my grandpa wouldn't be there. And it's also difficult not to see the countless precious Easter dresses that adorn the sweet little girls, and not to think about how I can never buy an Easter dress for Avery, or for any other daughter of mine. The desire for that is becoming unbearable.

Despite the hardships of this path I'm on, I am also delighted constantly by my little boy. It's an odd existence, really, to be so conflicted yet so overjoyed at the same time. I once heard it described like train tracks, with joy and sadness running alongside each other. It describes it perfectly.

Jude added so much joy to this special day. I loved his white oxford shirt with his aqua and white checkered tie (That may have been my favorite part). I let him have his Easter basket this morning while Daniel slept (he works nights and sleeps during the day... still). He got a Transformers kite, a bubbles gun, and some blue Peeps. Jude likes Peeps (It's adorable to watch him eat one). We went to my parents' house early, since today was also my mom's 52nd birthday. After Daniel met up with us, Jude went on a little egg hunt. He opened each egg, which contained a Peep, and took a bite of each one before putting the eggs in his basket. Such a silly boy!

 

 

After he'd found all of the visibly placed eggs, we brought out the kite, which I think Daniel enjoyed more than Jude did. Jude watched it for a few moments, but then continued his joyful trekking through my parents' backyard. He loves being outside and he loves walking and exploring, sometimes losing his balance in the thick grass, but getting back up to his feet immediately. I could never tire of watching him enjoy himself, watching him learn about his world.



Jude's goodies from my parents

 

My mom's birthday cake

 

I really cannot believe that Jude is already 20 months old as of today. What an eventful day! I don't know how it's possible that his birthday is in just four months. I still feel like we just recently had his first birthday! Time is seriously going much too quickly. He is growing up too fast. I'm thrilled he's growing up at all, but I wish I could stop time and live these days in slow motion. I miss my tiny baby that's swiftly growing into a little boy. I could go on and on but I'm quite certain that's another blog post in itself.

Today was a lovely family day. There could never be enough of those. :)

Day 8: Tribute

In the early days, reaching out to other mothers like myself was very comforting. There was something therapeutic in having someone who understood the pain. Through our blogs and then later Facebook, we banded together and tried to help each other somehow feel better. We did whatever we could to remind each other that our babies are important to this world, no matter how long they lived, whether they took a breath on this Earth or not. We all needed that so terribly.

One of the biggest ways we honored each other's children was writing their names and taking a photo. One day, while at the beach, I wrote as many names in the sand that I could think of and took photos. I posted them on Facebook, tagging the mothers of those sweet babies. They loved it. And I loved making them happy, if just for a moment. The photos that I have received have been such a blessing to me. I've printed them and added them to Avery's much too short photo album. The fact that someone who doesn't even know me in real life thought of my precious daughter and took the time to write her name and photograph it has such an impact.

I've asked my followers on Instagram if they would do the same in honor of Avery's 3rd birthday. As these years pass, it's easy to feel like people forget. The pain of Avery's absence is still so present for us. It's not ever going to go away. So I felt like I needed a boost. Some proof that people do care about her. A sweet gesture that can bring some comfort on these hard days, that each year, take me further and further away from her.

I thought I would ask here on my blog as well, if anyone reading is interested in contributing a photo with Avery's name, I'd love to post it here in a few days along with the Instagram submissions. They can be as simple or creative as you want. No pressure! ;) They can be emailed to nicolefeller@gmail.com (or posted on Instagram under the hashtag #myaverynicole). Thanks!

Thank you, CarlyMarie, Kristin, & Kalialani

18 Months Old

Jude is 18 months old today. How is that even possible? A year and a half already? He will be two in six months?!

Life is flying by much too quickly these days, ever since Jude was born, it seems. I wish the weeks would pass as slowly as they did when I was pregnant with him. Those weeks seemed to last forever, waiting with bated breath for what may or may not come. Waiting for joy or sorrow, but actually receiving both. And then -BAM- time took off on hyper speed as soon as he arrived and it hasn't slowed down. And it's been 18 months since I looked down at that tiny baby boy for the first time. It sure doesn't feel like it's been that long. I don't know how he's gotten so big already.

Our sweet boy is walking! He is walking so much lately. He still falls frequently so we don't really let him walk on his own in public, but when we are at home, he's mostly on foot and can make his way across the entire house without stumbling. I am very proud of my little boy. I worry too much about his milestones as a preemie, so this accomplishment is monumental. But, with the way I love him, everything is monumental. I love his toddle. The way he waddles with those little legs and feet, with his arms up to keep his balance. I love how he gets excited and knows he's doing something new and great.

Another of Jude's latest developments is his obsession with blowing kisses. He does it so often. Sometimes I catch him kissing his toys, complete with exaggerated "mwah!" (His sounds more like "mah!") Sometimes he goes over to the door and starts blowing kisses because he knows that's what he does when he leaves somewhere. Maybe that's his way of saying he wants to go outside, which is another thing he absolutely loves to do.

This boy is so incredible. I'm watching his sense of humor and his personality bloom more and more each day. His silly scrunched up faces never fail to make me laugh. He doesn't really talk yet (aside from "mama" and "dada"), but he makes a lot of sounds and I know he's smart. He's healthy and his home is filled with so much love. That's really all that matters.

Fear and healing

I never dreamed fear could have a positive outcome. It has plagued me through so many seasons of my life in the past nearly three years. My fear has kept me from so much joy. It's caused anxiety, paranoia, and even hypochondria. But this time, my fear actually set me free.

How could that be? Fear is not from God. Perfect love drives out fear. (1 John 4:18) But in this case, I believe God used my greatest flaw -- my uncontrollable, sometimes paralyzing tendency to worry and fear -- to heal a very broken piece of my being.

This terrible, unnecessary fear set deep within me four days after Jude's seizure. He had a follow up appointment with his pediatrician two days after that horrific ordeal. Everything looked great, his ear infection had even cleared up already. Jude's doctor looked through the charts from the hospital and was not pleased with the practically inconclusive blood test results from the ER. They hadn't been able to get a good sample of Jude's blood so it clumped up a lot, throwing off some of the results. He wanted us to take Jude to get another complete blood count (CBC) just to be thorough. We did just that and I didn't think much of it because Jude seemed fine and it was just a precaution.

Two days after the test, Jude's doctor called me and told me that his levels were a bit off, some varying drastically since his ER lab results just two days prior. His platelets were low and so were his white blood cells. As soon as he mentioned white blood cells, my mind immediately shot to cancer. I felt so sick with worry. The doctor explained that he believed they were both low due to viral suppression from the high fever, seizure, and ear infection. He spoke to a hematologist, who happened to specialize in oncology, just to verify and she completely agreed with him but she wanted Jude to get retested in two weeks to make sure his levels returned to normal. Cue the longest, most fearful two weeks of my life (well... Since the 31 weeks I was pregnant with Jude).

Before hanging up with Jude's doctor that afternoon, he assured me it wasn't time to worry. He expressed his belief that it couldn't be due to any cancer (because you know I asked him about it!) but he confessed his concern. When I hung up, I was close to tears and felt no peace at all. There was no way I could refrain from worrying.

All day, I had a knot in my stomach and that night, after Jude went to bed, I couldn't stop crying. I couldn't help but imagine his next results being no better or even worse. What would it mean? What if something was horribly wrong inside his little body? What if the seizure was a gift from God, so we could find out something was wrong with him before it was too late? All of these morbid fears forced their way into my thoughts. My imagination reeled with sickening visions of losing my baby. I suddenly felt like I was no longer guaranteed a life with my son. I felt like all my mothering duties may be temporary. It was a sick and awful feeling and I tried so hard to push it all away. But over the two weeks, it kept rearing its ugly head.

During that time, Jude started cutting two molars and one incisor all at once. Before we realized this, Jude's appetite changed and he wasn't eating well. Of course, my fear caused me to think something was wrong with him, that he was getting sick from whatever horrific thing was brewing inside him. Noticing the swollen gums, I felt some relief but nearly everyday, Daniel had to convince me that Jude was okay for one reason or another.

For those two long weeks, I felt like I was holding my breath. I was dreading the day we'd have to take Jude back for more blood work. I was dreading the phone call that would proceed. I imagined how my stomach would drop when my phone would ring and I'd see Jude's doctor on my caller ID. I pictured our conversation going so many ways, but naturally, against my will, what I pictured always left me feeling sick to my stomach. But then there was another side of me that couldn't wait to get it all over with. I wanted to be able to really enjoy the Christmas season and I couldn't manage to really do that with all of the fearful unknown looming over my head.

Finally, the day came and went. I prayed so much everyday leading up to it that Jude was healthy and strong. And he is. I burst into tears of relief on the phone with Jude's doctor. He knows me well enough by now and was not surprised by my reaction.

I believed in my heart that Jude was fine but my fear kept telling me I was wrong. It kept whispering ugly lies and planting that seed of worry. It really ate a hole. It festered and tormented. It was so unbearable at times. I felt so weak. I was disappointed in myself for folding so easily. Like it didn't take much for me to fall apart. That I couldn't face the situation with faith and trust, boldly and gracefully holding my head high like a dignified woman of God. But after weighing all of the things I've suffered through concerning my children, I decided to give myself a break. It's okay to be scarred by what's happened to me. I need to be patient with myself. It will take time to live confidently and to shake that paranoia.

So how did all of this fear and obsessive worry actually benefit me? During all of the stress, I kept thinking to myself how hard it was to worry so much about one person. To have so much of my heart, life, and love invested in one person. If I had to worry so much about the well-being of just one person, how could I manage that much more worry for the well-being of even more? The way I started to see it, the more children you have, the higher the chance of something awful happening to one of them. And half of my children are already dead so the odds don't look so hot. Morbid "humor" aside, I think I've endured too much for my heart to handle worrying for so many lives. I carry enough concern for Jude.

The other way the fear helped was in how much I despised the way our normal life twisted into a huge fear fest. I desperately wanted to return to our normal days. I wanted our old life. I missed it. I missed my biggest problem being how I couldn't have all the kids I wanted to have. I decided I'd gladly take that problem over there being something wrong with Jude. I willingly surrender the dreams of my future children for Jude in all his perfection. I'd much rather have "just" him than the possibility of others.

For the first time since I found out I couldn't have any more children, I am content with it. I never thought I would say that. That is the healing the fear brought. It was the lesson it taught me. Jude is enough. He has always been enough but I always longed for more as well. Now, I'm okay. Of course I would have a few more children if things were different and I still wish that were so, but It's okay that I won't have Jonah or Uriah or Ezra (a new beautiful favorite). It feels amazing to accept that. I feel more whole than I have felt in a long time. If it was even possible to love Jude more than I already did, I do.

I feel like the wounds from the babies that were taken away (past and future) have finally stopped bleeding. I feel like I can live my life now. Like I can be happy. That I don't have to be defined by my grief or my suffering. Yes, I am a baby loss mom. Yes, I have two children. Yes, my daughter is in Heaven. But I cannot live in that devastation anymore. Life is beautiful. My family is beautiful. I have so much, despite what I've lost. I know the Glory of God and the love of a husband and son. With humbled and gracious tears in my eyes, I know full well that I am blessed.

 

 

 



Jude's 2nd Thanksgiving

I miss how magical the holidays felt when I was a kid. It seems now, I spend more time in disbelief that the certain date has so quickly rolled around once again than I do really feeling festive! Maybe that's just part of growing up. Don't get me wrong. I look forward to these times. It's my favorite time of the year. I love and thoroughly enjoy all the decorating and the baking and the family gatherings. But now it's my job to make sure Jude feels the joy and the magic that every kid should feel. To remind him to be thankful for what he has and who he is. He's too young now to understand but I'm looking forward to the years to come, to see the excitement in Jude's eyes on these special family days. All the beautiful memories we're going to make together. What a blessing. So much to be thankful for!!

This year, Thanksgiving was different for my family with Poppop gone. It was the first thing I thought about as the day loomed. It would be the first time our family gathered without him. I must admit, as I mixed the filling for my pumpkin pie bars that morning, and "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas" was playing in the living room, I lost it. The line "Through the years we all will be together" was what did it. Through the years we all have been together. Now it's changed. It's another new normal that we have to accept in life. Just like having a dead daughter has become normal for me. But for now, it's sometimes unbelievable. That all of Jude's firsts were all of my grandpa's lasts. Life is strange and hard and sometimes very ugly, but it's also very beautiful. And family is the best part.

Things may not always be as magical as I imagined they would be when I was a kid, but no matter who or what I have lost, no matter the struggles or triumphs, there is always always so much to be thankful for. There is love and life in my home. And that is more than enough.

Capture Your Grief : Day 27 // Artwork

Today's post calls for artwork that reminds me of Avery, or something that was made for her by me or someone else. I pondered for a while, thinking of photos that people have sent me of Avery's name in the sand or carved into a tree. Maybe my Molly Bear or my Heart to Hold. Then it came to me... the most precious and amazing thing anyone has ever done to honor Avery. A song written just for her.

My brother-in-law, Andy, Daniel's younger brother, wrote a beautiful song called "The News Hits Me So Hard." One night last summer, right before Jude was born, he (and his wife) came over just to play it for us on his guitar. Daniel and I were so touched by that. Andy has such an undeniable, God-given talent, and the fact that he used it to honor our baby girl, his niece, blesses my broken heart more than I can describe.

{Listen to Andy's song right here}

The News Hits Me So Hard

By: Andy Feller

 

The news hits me so hard
My brother's baby girl won't make it out alive
This feeling of helplessness overtakes me
I don't know why this happened but I miss you, Avery

Mommy and Daddy are so proud of you
Even though they missed your first word and step
God knows I believe that you're singing and dancing in His holy presence

We love you so much
We hate to say goodbye
Those tiny hands hold our hearts so tight
Don't you worry, we'll hold you soon
But till then, don't forget that

We love you
We miss you
We wish you were here with us

Even when the waves are crashing down
You're still good
God, You're so good

The news hits me so hard
My brother's baby girl won't make it out alive
This feeling of helplessness overtakes me
I don't know why this happened but we miss you, Avery

 

 



The last year of my twenties

I turned 29 today.

I don't believe 29 is old. That's not the shock. The shock is that I'm here already, with just one year left of my twenties. How did time go that quickly? Where did all those years go? Every year goes by quicker than the one before. As we get older, birthdays lose that touch of magic. But even so, I still enjoy being special for the day. I don't think anyone outgrows that.

Daniel and I picked up some lunch and took Jude to the park. This was his second time ever at the park. But this was his first time to go on the swings. He loved it! He would just laugh and laugh as we pushed him. Watching him experience that joy and hearing his sweet laughter was the best gift I could ever receive on my birthday.

We went to Chilis for dinner with my parents and my brothers. Jude drank from a straw for the first time! He's learning so much so quickly. He's so smart. I loved that he had a few firsts on my birthday. It made it even more special.

 

Yes, I love my new iPad (thanks, Mom and Dad!!!) but the real gift is my family. My sweet, loving husband, my amazing miracle son, my supportive, wonderful parents, my awesome brothers who are more like friends... I've lost a lot but I also have a lot. I nearly lost my life twice last summer, and I've lived to see two more birthdays since. God takes care of us. His hand is on our life. It's easy to focus on what we lack and what we long for, but I never want to forget the blessings that grace us.