Your Sissy Is Six Years Old Today!!!

Dear Ethan,

I love you and I miss you! You're my Favorite One!

Did you know your Sissy's six??

Love,

Sissy


Mama and Daddy let me open one of my presents from them as soon as I woke up this morning!

Pumpkins For Ethan And His Sissy

I'm a little late posting this, but here are pictures of the pumpkins we got for Ethan and Emily at the pumpkin patch on October 23rd.


On the hayride--- Mama holding Ethan's, Daddy holding Sissy's


Sissy and Daddy getting the seeds out to roast


Daddy and Sissy were trying to carve a heart in Ethan's (because he has a new heart in Heaven), but it didn't quite turn out... whoops! Sissy wanted a heart in hers, too, and that didn't work, either! They both got happy faces on the other side instead. :)


Sissy and Daddy giving each other a high five for a job well done

Oh, Ethan, how we miss you!!

Grandpa and Ethan

Josh's dad was smitten from the start! :)

Here he is, beaming the afternoon Ethan was born...


... and getting his picture taken with his only grandson the next day.

The Indescribable Bond

For Ethan and his Sissy, it was there from the very beginning.



Watching cartoons together on March 30, 2010 (well, okay, Sissy watching, Ethan just cuddling!).

A Lamb, A Monkey, And A Sweet Baby

Ethan at two weeks old (March 26, 2010). He is with his little lamb from our good friend Linda, and his monkey blanket from our good friend Beverly.

How can it be, Sweet Boy, that you are not here with us?...

As always, I ache to be able to tell you I love you...

Ethan's Little Pumpkin

Here is the little pumpkin we got for Ethan when we went to the pumpkin patch on October 23rd. We got him a big pumpkin like Sissy's, too, but kept that one at home for him!

Dear Lord

Emily and Daddy are in the other room, and I can hear her asking him why her little brother died.

Is that really something a five-year-old should have to wonder??

Lord, I know You know what You are doing...

But I don't think I'll ever understand this side of Heaven.

I still can't believe I'm even breathing...

How do I wake up every morning knowing I've buried my son?

It is a miracle I can do this... a miracle I can breathe, a miracle I can function at all.

I am experiencing You in a way I never have before... and frankly, in a way I would never choose to.

I love you, Lord.

Please kiss my sweet boy for me.

Why Didn't He? (Warning: Raw)

I re-organized Emily's keepsakes tonight into new boxes.

I have been dreading this... I knew it would be so special to reflect on Emily's life so far, but that at the same time it would be a slap in the face of everything we will never get to have with Ethan.

No artwork, no birthday/holiday cards, no Sunday School papers, no letters to or from Santa or the Tooth Fairy, no awards, certificates, or programs, no ticket stubs from baseball games, theme parks, plays... no handmade cards to Mama and Daddy saying, "I love you"...

I expected a flood of emotions.

What I didn't think about is how I would feel when I came across the mementos from Emily's heart procedures/surgery.

The hospital bracelets, the newspaper article about her world-famous heart surgeon, the Bravery Beads stuff, the get well cards...

In an instant, it was 2005 again, and I remembered the fear.

The fear of losing her.

She had her first procedure at three-and-a-half months old.

Five years later, we feared losing Ethan.

And the same procedure that his sister handled so well killed him, when he was almost three months old.

Actually, the anesthesia for the procedure.

Five years ago, Emily also made it through another cardiac cath with balloon angioplasty at 10 months, and open-heart surgery at 11 months.

And her little brother didn't even make it through the anesthesia for the first one.

Yes, his heart was worse than Emily's. But, after he died, their cardiologist told us you could take 10 other babies with hearts just like Ethan's, and this wouldn't have happened--- that's how rare this is.

Why couldn't God protect Ethan like he protected Emily????

Or rather, why didn't he?

You see, one of the hardest things to accept is that God could have intervened and let Ethan stay here with us.

And he chose not to.

I don't believe for a second I am any less of a Christian because I have a hard time with this.

I am a grieving mother, pure and simple.

I don't know how to put it into words, but I need to try...

When I looked through her stuff, I thanked God for what he did for her--- and us. I can't even begin to explain how precious she is, and always has been, to us.

At the same time, I felt incredible, horrible agony that he did not do it for her little brother, too.

Yes, I know Heaven is the ultimate best for everyone. I know Ethan is living in complete joy and fulfillment.

But I am his Mama.

And I just want him here with me.

Five Months Ago Today

My Sweet Boy,

Five months ago today, God welcomed you into His presence forever...

And we will never be the same.

We are so grateful that the joy you are experiencing is beyond what we could ever imagine...

We remind ourselves of your happiness often, because we miss you so much.

One day, in place of the unbearable pain we feel, there will be Restoration.

We will live with you and the God Who loves you forever.

Ethan, you are so, so loved...

And we are so, so proud to be your family.

Remain... Let...

I am grateful for my husband.

Emily had to be taken to the pediatrician today, unexpectedly.

This wasn't the first time since Ethan went to Heaven, but that doesn't make it any easier, so I begged Josh to go with me. I just couldn't do it alone.

Because Emily's pediatrician is Ethan's, too.

When we got there, it was pure torture. All I could think about is all the many times we brought Ethan.

Josh even unknowingly sat in the same chair in the waiting room that I had on Ethan's last visit (Josh hadn't been able to join me that day)--- Tuesday, June 1st... just three days before Ethan went to be with Jesus.

I remember sitting in that chair and placing Ethan in front of me in his car seat... using my foot to gently rock him in it... getting a phone call from UAB while I was waiting, to tell me what time he needed to be there Friday morning and what time he needed to stop nursing so his little tummy would be empty... telling Emily she couldn't play with the other kids in the waiting room because we couldn't risk getting her little brother sick before his surgery...

The whole reason we were at the pediatrician that day was to get Ethan cleared for the surgery, to make sure his cold was gone (which it was). We were so careful with him...

And we lost him anyway.

Today was torture. So, before Emily was called back to an exam room, my sweet husband told his quietly crying wife to leave. That he would call me when they were done and I could come back and pick them up.

And I did...

Because I am a coward.

I drove around for a while, then ducked into our local library.

I stood in front of the displays of featured books, thumbing through them sadly.

Ethan's Life Verse is Psalm 37:5. "Commit your way to the Lord; trust also in Him and He will bring it to pass."

I read it almost every day of my pregnancy, when I was worried about miscarrying him or something else going wrong and us losing him in the womb. I wrote it out and brought it to the hospital for his birth, and taped it to his bassinet as soon as I could after he was born. It was there when he was diagnosed with the heart defect the next day. And it took on a whole new meaning when they put it in the helicopter with him when they flew him to the University Hospital NICU on his fourth day of life. (They transferred him there because they thought they might have to do an emergency heart procedure, but were wrong--- they just couldn't see things well enough). It stayed taped on his NICU bassinet until he was discharged a few days later. And when Ethan went to Heaven, we typed it on the special memorial bulletin we handed out at his service.

Then today, when I was thumbing through a book at the library, there it was.

With an explanation after it about remaining calm and letting God work.

Ethan's Life Verse... telling me how to live in the wake of losing him.

Remain calm and let God work.

Yes, God... I get it.

When I feel panicky about losing my son, I will remain calm and let You work.

When I long for good things to keep coming from his life, and for You to comfort me even as it doesn't seem possible that I can be comforted, I will remain calm and let You work.

Thank You for using my son to minister to me still.