swim lessons

If you follow me on instagram you know we have had swim lessons for the past two weeks. The first few days were a bit rough but once they got used to it, it was great. Actually that's a lie, Lincoln cried every day pretty much- he loves the water but he does not love going under. Especially if it's not his idea.

Every morning we met at my mom's pool with our cousins and our best friends. 8 kids I think total, and our instructor (Margaret) was awesome. This is her third year teaching Isabelle and every year we love her just a little bit more. This was the first season that it really "clicked" for Izzie. Seriously the first day she wouldn't even put her face under water to blow bubbles but now she can swim basically everywhere. Sometimes she would be so determined to do it herself, Margaret would reach to help her and she would say "I CAN DO IT MYSELF." Typical Isabelle.

She took the kids in shifts- Lincoln and Margo together and the big kids in groups. Lincoln mostly screamed a lot, but it was comforting for him to have Margo with him. I'd say okay Linc it is your turn to swim! And he would say "Marmo too! Marmo too!" And off they went, sobbing together. When she went under, Lincoln would cheer her on- "You DID it marmo! You DID it!" She calls him "Leeland." It was so adorable- we are really going to miss her when she goes back to Arizona at the end of the week. We have loved swimming all together basically every single day.

Since losing Maxwell I think I'm extra nervous about the safety of my other children. We spend a lot of time in and around the pool and I think swim lessons are such a good investment. I feel a lot more comfortable every year that we do this so they can learn to be more capable in the water.

"Mom can I call them my cousin-sisters?"

possibly my favorite face of all time. Lincoln loved it.

Much happier when finished.

Iz and Charlotte

Iz and Kira

Lincoln kept covering his one eye like OH MY LIFE IS SO HARD.

Lest you think I only take pictures of Lincoln crying (Morgan.) here is Lincoln loving it. And Margo crying.

This is her silly face. Seriously.

those post swim cuddles sure didn't hurt.

And because I'm so proud of her:

bearing up our burdens

Today is June 24th, it has been two months since Maxwell was born. Sometimes it feels like it's been years and other times it feels like yesterday. Time is a weird thing to measure anyway.

If things were different, Maxwell would probably be smiling by now. Maybe giggling, I don't know. It's hard to remember infant milestones when that newborn stage feels so long ago. If things were different, I'd be taking his naked baby pictures in the crib to document his second month. Maybe he would be sleeping in longer stretches. I wonder if he would look more like Isabelle, or more like Lincoln? He seemed such a mix of them at birth. Would he have more dark hair? The fluffy kind? Sometimes at night when I'm supposed to be sleeping I close my eyes and hear that little newborn cry, and I imagine getting up to nurse a baby that isn't here. My instagram feed is full of babies and I can't help but think of all the soft froggy pictures we would have taken and shared with our friends and family.

I heard the other day that "to sympathize" means to suffer. I sympathize with you means "I suffer with you." I know that there are so many who are suffering with us, for Maxwell and for their own struggles. Maxwell's story on my blog has been visited over eight thousand times. Eight thousand! I don't even know eight thousand people. My heart is begging to talk about Maxwell, to strangers and people I run into or to anyone who will listen. I want everyone to know that we have a third child, a sweet and perfect baby who we knew so briefly. Please don't be afraid to ask about him, to sympathize with us, please don't tiptoe around in fear of my feelings. He was here, he was real, he is ours.

There is this talk I listened to the other day- it's from conference back in April and I remember hearing it but now it has a whole different meaning. It's by David Bednar and it's called "Bear Up Their Burdens With Ease." Sometimes you just hear some words that really hit home with you- and this talk was created just for me I think.

"Sometimes we mistakenly may believe that happiness is the absence of a load. But bearing a load is a necessary and essential part of the plan of happiness."

There are times that we are so happy, all of us together. Yesterday swimming in the pool with my two little ones, getting my hair soaking wet and encouraging Isabelle to leap again from the diving board- was total happiness. We wore ourselves out being so happy. There are other times that I remember how it felt to cry out in complete agony after hearing confirmation that Maxwell was gone. Times when the tears come so fast and so hard that I can't see straight. The highs and lows of grief are constant and exhausting.

Losing Maxwell is such a big trial for us, really a big "bump" in our plan of happiness. I never thought that I would bury a child, or that before I was 30 I would have burial plots picked out for me and my husband. This is not the stuff you think about when you dream of getting married and living happily ever after. There will be bumps and trials and who I am to assume that because we are trying our best to be faithful, that we are immune to such tests. Maxwell's life had a purpose, and I'll spend the rest of mine learning what that was. But what an impact he has had already! Oh, our sweet baby Max. I've always known that the Atonement is for the repentance of sins, but it is so much more than that.

"Thus, the Savior has suffered not just for our sins and iniquities- but also for our physical pains and anguish, our weaknesses and shortcomings, our fears and frustrations, our disappointments and discouragement, our regrets and remorse, our despair and desperation, the injustices and inequities we experience, and the emotional distresses that beset us. There is no physical pain, no spiritual wound, no anguish of soul or heartache, no infirmity or weakness you or I ever confront in mortality that the Savior did not experience first."  

Two months later and we know we are not alone in this. Even our Savior can sympathize with us, because He has suffered for us. He suffers with us. Maxwell is such a special little spirit, we know that, we know that he was too perfect to stay on earth, that he didn't need to be tested or subjected to life on earth like we are. I'd like to think that before we all came down to earth, when we were being organized into families, that Maxwell was presented to us and we said, "here we are, choose us...we love you, we can do this for you." Oh my heart aches when I think about what we are enduring, but I would do it again and again for this boy of mine that waits for me on the other side.

All that is unfair in life can be made right through the Atonement. This I know.

mercies for max

I've mentioned our good friend Carol before. She is the nurse that works with my dad on Thursdays, and also works in the NICU at the hospital. She volunteered on her day off to be in OR and was the one to take all of those precious pictures. Can we just discuss the pictures for a minute. Have you ever seen so many good c-section pictures? Not just c-sections, but all births in general! I mean really- good ones close up of just me and my boy? I've told you before that I don't have pictures like that from my other babies births- I don't think most people are so lucky. In those ten minutes we have over 60 pictures of Maxwell, pink and screaming and happy. We have pictures of my tender moments with Max, the only time I got to hold him and see his little face while he was alive. We have pictures of the three of us- smiling and radiant with joy. When I'm sad, I can look at those pictures and remember that for just a few minutes everything was perfect. Tangible proof of our sweet little baby and his short life. We are so incredibly grateful for the pictures that she took of our moments with Maxwell. So thankful for you Carol!

this is my favorite.

Something Carol is famous for is her newborn bubble baths. She brings the baby into the recovery room with you so you can be a part of that special time and watch her gently bathe the baby in a big sink of soapy water. The babies love it. I've never been able to see my kids' baths so I was excited to be included for once! You can also have your other kids present to help with the bath- lots of my friends have had their older siblings there to watch the baby get all cleaned up and they even get to help Carol. Everyone says its adorable and its a great time for pictures and the kids love being involved. JaNae had her girls there when baby Bennett was bathed and they really loved it. We thought about how much fun it would be for Isabelle to be there in the recovery room to see baby Max and help bathe him... but for some reason I never quite felt good about it. Call me selfish- but I really wanted it to be about me and Jazz and the baby without having to worry about anything else... and I wanted a front row seat to all the action. The topic kept coming up- if Isabelle was going to be there- we knew Lincoln would be all over the place plus it was his nap time so we knew for sure he was out. Even the morning of Maxwell's birth my dad offered to bring Isabelle to the hospital so she could be around for the special bath.

Still, we didn't feel right about it. You know me, I'm all about the opportunity for adorable pictures, especially when it includes siblings, but I just felt like it should be just me and Jazz.

Of course now, what a blessing, what a relief. We never had that special bubble bath, we never made it that far. Instead, the recovery room was filled with grief and tears and heartache, and I'm so incredibly grateful that my sweet four year old wasn't standing on the sidelines. What a relief that I didn't have to worry about my reactions or her reactions or see her tiny face trying to make sense of the situation. Tender mercies.

anniversary weekend

This weekend was our sixth wedding anniversary! It was a great excuse for us to get out of town for a few days and just be together, without any major responsibilities. The last few months have been sort of exhausting and this trip was so refreshing and really, really fun.We knew we wanted to attend the Oakland Temple, and Jazz got us great tickets to the Yankee's/Oakland A's game on Saturday night. But other than that, we had no agenda.

We had sort of a rough start leaving Redding. The plan was to drop the kids off at my parents' at about six, then drive to Oakland. You know me, I was prepared, so I had everything ready to go by the time Jazz got off work. All we had to do was load the kids and kiss them gbye. As we were dropping them off, Morgan jokingly said, "Do you guys have your temple recommends?" I always have mine with me so I was good, but Jazz realized his was at home. Sooo we ran back home and while he ran inside to grab his, I checked for mine just to make sure. Nothing is worse than getting all the way down there and realizing you don't have your recommend with you.

I grab mine out of my wallet. Phew, I think. I check the date. Expires May 2014. As in, two weeks ago. Noooooooo.

It's 6 pm on a Friday night and I need a new recommend. And I need it quickly.

I called my bishop, and he was so wonderful and said he could do it anytime, but that I had to get a hold of the Stake President. AWESOME. I called and leave him a message, but for all I knew he could be out of town or on call (he is a radiologist). I felt so defeated- all this planning and we weren't going to be able to go! We drove back over to my parents' house (oh hey kids we are back.) and because my dad is magic he had the cell phone number for the stake president (he is a fellow cyclist.) ANYWAY. Long story short, I met with the bishop and shortly after that the stake president at his home and we were on the road by 7. Really, best case scenario, it could have been SO MUCH WORSE. I'm so thankful that all that fell into place so that we could go. (More about temples, click here.)

Our time spent in the temple was extra special because all we could think about was our Maxwell. We are sealed to him for all of eternity, and because of the blessings of the temple we will see him again. I felt his spirit so near and provided so much comfort for me. What a privilege it is to be his mother.

Saturday night we had great seats at the A's game. It's been over ten years since I've been to a ball game, and it was realllllly fun to sit right behind the yankee's bullpen and see their pitchers warm up. Those pitches are fast! Yikes. We ate hot dogs and people watched and cheered for the home team.

Sunday we spent a few hours walking around the wharf in San Francisco and the weather was gorgeous. We watched the boats moving in the harbor, ate some crab, and grabbed a peanut butter fudge sundae at ghiradelli. The best part about this trip was bring able to talk like actual grown ups- about kindergarten and Lincoln's chipped tooth and Maxwell's headstone. We talked about the six years we have been married and the three beautiful children we have...we talked about our wedding day and our favorite memories and reminisced about our honeymoon in Cancun.

Jazz found a cute breakfast spot that served traditional scrapple. His fav.

lots of iphone selfies this trip.

Oakland Temple (Jazz loves when I stop people and ask them to take pictures for us.)

Look how close we are! Hiroki Kuroda warming up.. he pitched about five innings

Oh Hey Derek Jeter.

The iphone panoramic feature is surprisingly fun.

guess which hotdog is mine.

             

Seriously the most gorgeous day.

Alcatraz. 

We made it home Sunday evening about six- just in time for some Father's Day cake with my family. Trust me, when Morgan makes a cake, you don't miss it. We missed our kids but they had such a good time with my parents and Morgan and Margo, it was like a party weekend for them. The ultimate playdate.

It was just a quick 48 hours but it felt like such a nice break. When we were married six years ago I had no idea what I was in for- the joy we have shared having our children and being together, and the heartbreak of burying our sweet baby boy. You really never know what is ahead, but there is no one I would rather brave the front lines with than Jazz.

salt

I was cleaning today and came across the little white booties and hat Maxwell was wearing when they brought him to me from the NICU.

There are only a few loose ends left to tie up relating to the birth of Maxwell. We are still waiting for the autopsy report to come back. I need to go through all of his things and place them in an acid free memory box for later. We are still working on ordering his headstone. I think about how I "planned" my life to be, how I "planned" to have my children. It is hard to think that Lincoln won't have a living little sibling until he is 3 1/2 or 4, best case scenario. I didn't "plan" for such a big gap between children- and I know realistically he already has a little brother- but you know what I mean.

We were at Isabelle's ballet recital last weekend and a super nice mom asked me how many children I have. Ohhhh what a loaded question. I told her I have three- Izzie, Lincoln who is 2 1/2 and a sweet newborn that passed away in April. It's a great way to end a conversation, in case you are wondering. They always feel bad, and it's awkward... and they don't know what to say... and sometimes I cry. Maybe it would be more simple just to list Iz and Linc, but Maxwell is so much a part of our family I just can't bear to leave him out. It feels so fresh.

Talking about loss is awkward. Our infant loss is especially awkward I think because it is so rare and unexpected. People don't know what to say, but I find it's worse when nothing is said at all. I'm sure they don't want to upset me, but totally ignoring the fact that I was 9 months pregnant last time I saw them is so weird.

At dinner the other night there was a brand new baby across the way. Tiny, like seven pounds, totally floppy and asleep. And I could barely keep it together. What I wouldn't give for just a few more minutes with my pink baby, just to prop on my shoulder and pat his back to burp him. It seems so unfair sometimes. Dinner was a little chaotic and I was distracted by this sweet newborn and just when I was about to burst into tears Lincoln leaned over out of the blue and kissed me right on the mouth. And I felt like it was totally from Max saying Mom I'm here, I'm with you, it will be okay.

Thursdays are hard. The 24th is hard. Night time is hard.

When I was having a particularly sad night last week, I went into to tuck in sleepy Lincoln. Rockabye mama, rockabye he said. And of course I picked up him and held him like a newborn and tickled his face and kissed his skin. I love him so much I could just explode. Anyway, he could tell I was sad and he said, "awww you need yo' mama" and took his paci out and offered it to me. Like hey mom, this makes me feel better when I am sad and maybe it will help you too. Children are so special, they can feel things even when they don't understand them.

tippy toes

Saturday morning we had a little recital for Isabelle at the ballet studio. Isabelle loves to dance, mostly she loves to run free and be creative. Wednesdays are special days for her because Grandma picks her up for ballet and they have their own little date.

just getting ready to begin.

Stretches!

She is so precious! Also, so tan!

Her very first bun. She was so excited.

Grandma Cindy always brings a special book to read during their class. It always relates to the "props' she has for that day... sometimes they have umbrellas and some days they have kites to fly. Bee wings to wear. Fairy wands to wave. She is so creative and so good with these kids. Not to mention, patient. Eight 3-4 year olds for 45 minutes? She wins. 

Practicing their rhythm with baby dolls.

Aunt Mo and Margo brought flowers and Isabelle was tickled. (pink.)

I just could not stop watching her, it was like she was the only kid out there. Flashing us thumbs up signs and big smiles. I am so proud of her- not because she has mastered basic ballet steps (let's face it, she's four.) but because she is gaining confidence and learning to listen, to follow directions, to be creative. Plus her little body in tights and a leo is killing me. Seriously, her little legs! agh. 

One of my favorite pictures, possibly of all time. 

Mercies for Max

I mentioned that there were so many tender mercies surrounding our experience with Maxwell. 

After giving birth to Lincoln down at UC Davis, I always had a hard time understanding why I had to have c-sections.  I felt like with his delivery I did all the "right" things to avoid another c-section. I waited until I was good and ready, went into labor on my own, stayed home for the early labor. Once at the hospital I put off receiving an epidural as long as I could and worked through the contractions. We gave Lincoln the maximum time possible to allow him to move down into the birth canal and rotate from his posterior position and it just didn't happen. We tried everything. He wasn't very big, especially for a second baby, a week overdue... just 7 1/2 pounds. After 36 hours, Lincoln was born in a cold OR in the middle of the night.

I have no pictures of Lincoln's actual birth. In fact, I didn't see him until I was out of surgery and back in the recovery room. I didn't see him be born, or hear his first cries, or watch him be bathed. He was immediately taken from the operating room which is standard for that particular hospital.

While I loved the experience of labor and I am forever grateful for it, I wondered why I wasn't able to deliver him naturally, why when I was so prepared and worked so hard did I feel like I had "fallen short." Lots of my friends and acquaintances had successful VBAC's, and I felt like I met all the criteria for a favorable outcome. Why was this so difficult for me? 

And now, after having Maxwell via scheduled cesarean, now we know.

We had to be here.

Had to be here at this hospital, on this day, with these nurses and physicians. We had to be here in this OR so that I could hold him right away and be near his face, to kiss his cheeks and smell his skin and sing to him before he was gone.

Had to be delivered c-section, in case labor would have been too much for his little body.

Had to be here so Carol could document our time together with our camera.

Had to be in Redding to be near our family.

What if I had a successful VBAC with Lincoln, and had gone back down to Davis to deliver Maxwell? Almost two pounds bigger than Lincoln and also sitting posterior, I'm assuming I would have ended up with a cesarean. In the OR. Without my people. Without a camera. Separated immediately. The NICU at UC Davis is two floors and an elevator ride away.

Those precious few minutes I was able to spend with Maxwell were during my surgery. If he was delivered at Davis, I would have missed out on all of that. No pictures, no time with him, no nothing. How devastating would that be? Oh, I am so thankful for this tender mercy, for the answer to prayers that were said years ago. Thankful to my Father in Heaven for the circumstances in which Maxwell was born. 

The past few years I've always wondered if I would eventually come to understand why I have to have cesareans, and I really do believe now we know. 

It was for Max.