tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52276546692392917152024-03-15T18:10:19.491-07:00A Journal for JoviFollow our family following the loss of our baby, Jovi Sloan. Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger151125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227654669239291715.post-26116458788759987752016-12-11T21:26:00.000-08:002016-12-11T21:27:03.365-08:00I. Can't. Even.I realize I haven't blogged in a million months. Things are crazy and I barely even have time to brush my teeth. But, I'm taking time out now to address something major. I'm sick of sitting and cringing every single time I hear the below phrases so can we please... pretty please... band together and stop saying/doing this crap?<br />
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I'm starting this post off with some background real quick. If you are new to my blog, my daughter, Jovi Sloan, passed away to SIDS four and a half years ago. It was/is brutal and something I wouldn't wish on anyone. No one deserves to know what the loss of a child feels like. The love of Jesus and the hope of being reunited with my daughter pulled me through and continues to pull me through on the dark days. Did you catch that? I love Jesus. Jesus is my man.<br />
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BUT WE HAVE TO STOP USING CLICHE "CHRISTIAN-ESE" LINGO WHEN BABIES DIE. ALSO. WE HAVE TO STOP DOING A LOT OF OTHER THNGS WHEN BABIES DIE.<br />
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<b>1.) God doesn't give you more than you can handle. </b><br />
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Um. What? This is bull sh*t. Because, while I didn't die when my daughter died, it sure as hell felt like I couldn't handle it. In fact, there's still days where I feel like I'm barely keeping my head above water. This isn't helpful. My baby who was here one second and gone the next was/is horrible. I can't even explain the weight of what I felt in the beginning and hearing that God wouldn't give me too much wasn't at all helpful. Not even a little.<br />
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<b>2.) Jesus's arms is the best place for a baby. </b><br />
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What the what? Last time I checked, babies were supposed to outlive their parents. Maybe Jesus's arms are the best place for a mom... but, stop and think about this. It's a sweet thought. Don't get me wrong. I love that Jesus has a hold of my tiny tot, BUT I still want her here more than I want her with Jesus. Let's do a rephrase, "I can see Jesus rocking your precious baby until you get to her again." Nailed it.<br />
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<b>3.) God needed another angel. </b><br />
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I'm still not even convinced that babies become angels. Maybe? Who the heck knows. It doesn't help thinking of her with wings and a halo anymore than it does to think of her being better off in heaven. And. He needed my baby to become the angel? Let's stop and think about this for a second... Do you want to give up your child to become an angel? You don't? Then, don't say it.<br />
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<b>4.) God needed another flower for His garden. </b><br />
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Who are you gonna give up for a flower in God's garden right now?<br />
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<b>5.) You are young enough to have another baby. </b><br />
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No baby can replace the baby I lost. Did you catch that? Let me say it again and just let it sink in. No baby can replace the one I lost. Okay... moving on.<br />
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<b>6.) When my dog died....</b><br />
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I believe dogs are family. I believe you love your dog to the ninth power. But, a dog isn't a child. Please stop comparing the death of my child to your dog... cat... gerbil... bird....<br />
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<b>7.) Friend request. </b><br />
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I was inundated with friend requests when Jovi died. Something ridiculous like 64 requests in the first few days after she died. Please don't friend request someone just to know their drama. Facebook has a little thing called messaging. Send them a message. You'll never know when they might get it. I had a mom message me 18 months ago and I just learned about the "other" folder about a month ago. It was there. And it came to me at a time I needed it. It was remarkable. She didn't try to be my "friend". She sent me a heartfelt message and she moved on. She didn't need to see the drama unfolding on my Facebook page.<br />
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<b>8) "Do you know how she died?"</b><br />
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Don't gossip about a family going through hell. Does it really matter? And if you must know, ask someone who is your best friend about it. Not Joe Blow from high school.<br />
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<b>9.) Oh man... I had the worst week...</b><br />
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Please don't tell me you've had the worst week ever the week my daughter died. Your broken house appliance is nothing compared to the huge hole in my heart. (Ps. You can tell me all about your crappy week now... just don't in the first few weeks/months).<br />
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<b>10.) Run the other way. </b><br />
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If you see my swollen, puffy eyes in the grocery store. Stop and talk to me! I know I now sound totally unapproachable and I'm judging every word, but I'm not really.<br />
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Tell me you're sorry.<br />
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Tell me you have no words for me.<br />
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Give me a hug.<br />
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Tell me you can't fix it.<br />
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Tell me your praying for me.<br />
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Tell me you'll watch my big kids.<br />
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Tell me it wasn't my fault.<br />
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Tell me you are thinking about me.<br />
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Tell me you are there for me.<br />
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Tell me your heart is hurting with mine.<br />
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Tell me you are so sad.<br />
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Tell me you miss seeing her face.<br />
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Speak her name.<br />
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Bring me dinner.<br />
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Tell me Jovi was beautiful.<br />
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Tell me she's missed.<br />
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Tell me you think about her.<br />
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I'm speaking in "me's" here because I'm just going back to the beginning. I, honestly, don't need a dinner now. I'm remembering those first few months of sheer awful and trying to convey how to help your friend, your acquaintance, your sister, your brother.... just be there. Be present. A simple "I'm thinking about you" goes a long, long way. The people I remember the most were the ones who were just there. Those who hugged me and said how terrible this was... those who just didn't leave. Those who didn't try to fix it. Those who allowed themselves to try to think of the unimaginable. Those who let themselves go to that place for just a minute to try to understand how I felt. Those. Those people were my lifeline and those people helped me keep going and helped keep my head above the water. Be empathetic. Don't try to justify my loss. Don't try to make it seem better than it is. Because it f*cking sucks. It's the worse. There's no justification to my daughter's death that will help me feel better in this lifetime.<br />
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If you don't know me, pray for me. Tell me your sorry. Shoot me a message on Facebook. Respect my family and my privacy.<br />
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Please can we end this? Share this. Teach this. I think it's safe to speak for anyone who has experienced a significant loss... I can't just be speaking to the child-loss mommas...<br />
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Let's all throw out sympathy and embrace empathy. It'll go so much farther and impact so. much. more.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227654669239291715.post-876288774277303442016-04-19T16:38:00.001-07:002016-05-20T21:45:18.579-07:00All the FeelsOur camera was sitting on the counter and I just put it away in its spot in a cupboard. It's been sitting on the counter for weeks in preparation for our new little guy's arrival. I'd see it cooking the kids' breakfast (okay, putting waffles in the toaster), it'd catch my eye when cleaning the kitchen... It was a symbol of excitement that a baby could come any day. I remember telling my husband we needed to charge the cameras and how this was not only exciting because a baby was near, but, also, that I had faith that this little tot was going to live and that's big for this baby loss mama. I had a little sting of sadness as I put it away knowing that the excitement of impending "Meet Baby" operation was now over. <div><br></div><div>Jett Max made his entrance into the world two minutes before midnight on April 9th. It was one of the most magical days of my life as is the other days that I've first caught glimpse of each of my four babies. He was a surprise... In more ways than one. We didn't know we were incomplete as a family or that we needed another being in our house until we learned of his presence months ago. We knew he would be our last and decided to mix it up and not find out his gender. There was much anticipation upon his arrival as we finally found out if we had a son or a daughter. He's been nothing short of sweet. He's brought that sweet newborn smell back into our house. He's made Lila a big sister and he gave Cash a brother. He's completed our "little" family. He's even slightly less stressful as I feel more confident... I've kept two alive. I've raised a rainbow. I can do this. </div><div><br></div><div>With that being said, he comes with a mark of sadness. Each of his firsts is our last. His first car ride was our last time bringing a baby home from the hospital. I cried upon this realization (Thank you post partum hormones). Not only cried but, also, insisted to my husband that we couldn't possibly say no to another one of these sweet, perfect gifts. I'm sure he thought I was going insane as weeks before we had laughed... Okay seriously contemplated, too... About how we were going to handle three kids here on Earth. </div><div><br></div><div>As the post partum fog has lifted and I'm finding I'm more of myself (no longer crying over car rides and umbilical cord belly buttons) I've realized that these emotions are going to come regardless of its it your first baby and last or your tenth baby and last. We can't continue having babies to keep those emotions at bay and at some point, we have to be done in baby land. Our life won't be over when we don't have a baby in the house anymore and my role as mom is going to change but I will be just as needed and just as important taking kids to soccer games and piano practice as I trade in changing diapers and nursing. We will enter a new phase and it will be good and it will be wonderful. It's okay to mourn what we are trading in, but just because it's different and new- doesn't mean it's going to be any less.</div><div><br></div><div>I'm excited to see where we go and how my kids grow. As I've accepted this today, doesn't mean I still don't struggle with letting it go. If you see Jett out in tiny clothes, it's simply because I can't let go of the incredibly tiniest of tiny newborn sizes. And that's okay. </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227654669239291715.post-33968347944470742662016-01-25T21:49:00.003-08:002016-01-25T21:49:57.515-08:00Not Prepared.I knew losing my baby was going to be so hard. I knew I would miss her every. single. day. I knew that years later, life would still not feel right. I knew that my soul would ache for her sweet little self every day and I knew that my life and myself was changed. As the years have gone by without Jovi, I've realized how much I lost when she died. Much was lost the day she died. More than I think I still realize... dreams, futures, stress was gained (multitudes of stresses). Not to sound so depressing, I should add that I gained so much insight and so much perspective along with all that I lost. I will forever wish my child didn't die to be where I am today though.<br />
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What I didn't realize is that my sweet boy would still long and ache for his sister three and a half years later. I didn't realize that he would remember. It seems sweet that he does but it breaks my heart that he hurts. I didn't expect tears on Christmas because Santa didn't fill her stocking. I didn't expect almost nightly conversations (lately especially) about Heaven and Jovi. I didn't expect nightly comments of how much he's missing her. I didn't expect comments of "Why do our babies die?". I wast ready for passing a cemetery on a field trip and his innocent voice telling his best school friend that he has a sister who is buried in a cemetery because she died. And that sweet school friend already feeling awkward by death ignoring Cash's honest comment. Not prepared. Not in any way. I sort of thought he would forget. Not totally... We have pictures of Jovi all over and we speak of her often. She hasn't been placed away or hasn't been forgotten in our home. I mean the tragedy and the sadness. I thought he would vaguely remember he had a sister and more because we reminded him. We kept her memory alive. But, that doesn't seem to be the case. He's remembering on his own. I never wanted him to realize how unfair it was... and he has. He has asked why our babies die... why others don't. Why his sister died and others didn't... He had always sort of just accepted what happened to us and I had always hoped that he wouldn't realize that it is so, so, so unfair. But he does. And it's a killer. It breaks my heart in so many ways. He should never have had to endure this and it's awful he has to continue. My heart is hurting for him. I just wasn't prepared for his heart hurting and how that makes a mommy feel...<br />
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He had retired his sweet Jovi bear who slept with him for a couple years after Jovi died. She was so well loved and one day, I realized he had retired her to his little rainbow sister. The other night I went to tuck him in and realized Jovi bear was back in his bed and it was like a punch to the throat and a sheer indication of his hurting little heart. He's such a sweet and sensitive little guy and I realize he's doing all the right things and seems to be grieving in all the right ways. His mommy just wasn't prepared for his hurting heart.<br />
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Be praying for my little monkey.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227654669239291715.post-18435246080349333222015-08-09T20:56:00.001-07:002015-08-09T20:56:19.852-07:00Let's Be RealI had the pleasure of seeing Rob Bell speak this weekend. He's pretty controversial in the "Christian" world and while I guess I can see why- people need to give this man a chance. He's pretty incredible. <div><br></div><div>He was talking about dark space and how 96% of our universe is made up of unknown/dark space. It's the majority of what's around us. This can relate the same to our lives and how so many want to speak about their dark space. He spoke about a woman during a question and answer session and how she asked, "My young daughter just died from a rare disease. What do you have to say to me?". His answer hit me to my core and realized that this is exactly how I feel about death and loss and grieving the loss of someone so instrumental in your life. </div><div><br></div><div>He said that she shouldn't be concerned with why it happened to her and those around her shouldn't be concerned withy that either. And how they shouldn't be hurdling bible scriptures at her as to why this happened. It was, then, I realized to master what answer on this side of life- it will never justify the death of my daughter. </div><div><br></div><div>We need to sit together in silence with those who are grieving and those who are broken. Not throw feel-good scriptures at them. </div><div><br></div><div>He spoke about how she will find a mom who is preparing to head down a similar path or has just lost her daughter. And they will connect in a way that no one but them can understand. And she will bring a comfort to this mom- a light that this mom needs. </div><div><br></div><div>And I couldn't help but cry and rejoice in Jovi's sweet life. And rejoice in my soul sister, Katrina, who brought me more joy and light than I could ever explain. </div><div><br></div><div>I've had those moments. I've been that person for someone else. That feeling is pretty incredible. </div><div><br></div><div>I'm just so reminded again of the damage that some of these scriptures can do when someone is at the very bottom. Someone who is barely breathing. </div><div><br></div><div>Be careful with your words. </div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227654669239291715.post-34665815273202277392015-06-09T21:05:00.001-07:002015-06-09T21:05:51.135-07:00And so we continue on...Both my babies here on Earth has birthdays recently. Sweet Cash turning 6! And little Lila turning 2. Where has the time gone? I was sitting in church today dwelling on life and how things can so drastically change in a matter of minutes. <div><br></div><div>Some changes are so welcomed. </div><div><br></div><div>Some are so unwanted. </div><div><br></div><div>But, in the midst of all the chaos and change and shitty-crappy events and wonderful, joyous events... We've continued on. </div><div><br></div><div>In the midst of it all, we've continued to smile. </div><div><br></div><div>We've continued to love each other. </div><div><br></div><div>We've continued to try. </div><div><br></div><div>We've continued to grieve. </div><div><br></div><div>We've continued to find joy.</div><div><br></div><div>We've continued to laugh. </div><div><br></div><div>We've continued to miss until our hearts feel like they can miss anymore and, then, the next day... We miss even more. </div><div><br></div><div>We've continued to love Jesus. </div><div><br></div><div>We've continued to stress. </div><div><br></div><div>We've continued to cry. </div><div><br></div><div>We've continued to live. </div><div><br></div><div>I have moments where I feel like I've got nowhere. Days where I feel stuck in the midst of loss and immense grief and the heavy feeling of how my life has been really, really hard. And how can someone even say I'm strong because I feel the very opposite of that. I feel weak. And tired. And so done. </div><div><br></div><div>But, then, I have days (and sudden realizations) of how I've come along. And how I've continued. How we've continued despite the ever-hard and sometimes seeming never-ending obstacles I have to jump. And how my life has never ended. I am sure I've said this all before but tonight it's hit me again hard. And I'm proud of myself. And my family. </div><div><br></div><div>On a lighter note-</div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">My life is still very good. I've done so many awesome things this month... I am thankful for kindergarten graduations and for going to well child checks. I will forever remember how incredible these moments are with my babies. And how I'll never wish for them to stop growing...</span></div><div><br></div><div>I can't wait to see where life takes us. Praying for an easier time. And as always, praying my babies below outlive me by decades. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghyphenhyphencAB2hZI8VVJCmjUM2suLA9DD-7gMW-RQthXG1kZ44cGQXTTsjw6e-nKsf4psrhu2-I_ThokPDsZlnwwCOXHFoGhRNI42Bb4rzgFMjlPnHmHtc6G_xuB71pMwUA1ouCUm0KrKKodrJaF/s640/blogger-image--772443917.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghyphenhyphencAB2hZI8VVJCmjUM2suLA9DD-7gMW-RQthXG1kZ44cGQXTTsjw6e-nKsf4psrhu2-I_ThokPDsZlnwwCOXHFoGhRNI42Bb4rzgFMjlPnHmHtc6G_xuB71pMwUA1ouCUm0KrKKodrJaF/s640/blogger-image--772443917.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">What in the world?! My boy is 6! And a first grader! This sweet little man saved me and was one of the very reasons I chose to get up every morning. I am so thankful for him. I love his grown up sayings and the young man he's growing into. Seriously? When did he grow up?! I love this little guy so much... Even if he says he hates me now sometimes... Or punches his sister. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiOZiwytBYw0RETgtRXjA3J-5VgNzokYbOge3jXSPM051BrkDYa-q2LlwF3tIPmUrsoiFD3r7d2-_fupYAU71d7Ckd6m8R7-F0drie7vS4-pU0zkiGZLjYXOg3ZNz7JeCuQw5m09mH6A_g/s640/blogger-image--1106434690.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiOZiwytBYw0RETgtRXjA3J-5VgNzokYbOge3jXSPM051BrkDYa-q2LlwF3tIPmUrsoiFD3r7d2-_fupYAU71d7Ckd6m8R7-F0drie7vS4-pU0zkiGZLjYXOg3ZNz7JeCuQw5m09mH6A_g/s640/blogger-image--1106434690.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">This little ball of fun is 2! She continues to bring my entire family more joy than ever imagined. She's a spit fire who has helped heal some scars and lessen the sting of many others. She continues to make us laugh. Her vocabulary grows every day even if most times it takes us a good 20 times to understand... I love this little lady. </div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><br></div><br></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227654669239291715.post-22527703423945538532015-05-05T22:00:00.001-07:002015-05-05T22:00:23.158-07:00Missing you-Oh little girl-<div><br></div><div>We cleaned out the garage today after months of it being the catch all from the big move. </div><div><br></div><div>In the garage was your box. It always hits me like a ton of bricks to even see the box. And think of how unfair it is that all of your stuff that couldn't fit on your memory quilt just sits in there. The beautiful quilt your Auntie Becky made special just for you and your room. Your "J". The stuffed bunny Cash made at Build-A-Bear. The blanket you had at the hospital the day you died. I'm not sure why we even got that blanket back and I'm not always sure why I even kept it. But, it's a part of you. It touched you. And I seem to cling to anything that held you or touched your sweet skin. There were things I'd forgotten about... Your sunglasses from (Auntie) Taylor and your darling bracelet. I sat there pulling stuff out realizing out awful it is we don't get to see these pieces of you everyday. We have a playroom in our new house and I haven't been able to decide on a theme or what to put in there for decorations. You inspired that today and I pulled out some special (and happy) memories from that box to hang up so we can see more of you each day. </div><div><br></div><div>I gave your baby sister your sunglasses. I wish I would have remembered they were in there. Because we put so many of your things on your quilt, there isn't many pieces from you that were passed on to your little sister. I can tell you, though, that those sunglasses were so loved. She was loving them. I enjoyed being able to see my girls both in something the same. </div><div><br></div><div>Today was hard. And reminded me of how much my soul just aches for you. I am thinking of you an extra amount tonight. Send me some Jovi dreams. </div><div><br></div><div>I love you so much, little girl, to Heaven and back. </div><div><br></div><div>Love,</div><div>Your mommy</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8VUiVMHocCjRPoZddjA4LEnBFKPORzLzZbN-6efFhR7_i-CjcbC-dYU4w3jNnx_f259zktnvABF6Kri88TZkTK1tzzJdAqUoThq2z6UuGvytKAQHN6TNroVdkgtUivycT2puE18iDYmuA/s640/blogger-image-593203580.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8VUiVMHocCjRPoZddjA4LEnBFKPORzLzZbN-6efFhR7_i-CjcbC-dYU4w3jNnx_f259zktnvABF6Kri88TZkTK1tzzJdAqUoThq2z6UuGvytKAQHN6TNroVdkgtUivycT2puE18iDYmuA/s640/blogger-image-593203580.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Look at your baby sis in those sweet shades! I bet you were smiling seeing her today. </div><br></div><br></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227654669239291715.post-86346115307926804792015-05-05T21:58:00.001-07:002015-05-05T22:04:23.596-07:00SenselessA police officer was shot and killed in the line of duty in our town this morning. <div><br></div><div>These so-sudden, so-senseless tragedies hit home. And hit home big.</div><div><br></div><div>I remember what it was like. I remember July 10th. I remember going to work. I remember getting Jovi dressed. I remember her outfit was too small and leaving an extra with her grandma. I remember getting off early. And I remember going to run at the gym. I remember getting eggs and mushrooms at the store on my way home. I remember coming home. I remember kissing my sweet babies hello and telling them how I missed them. I remember putting Cash down for a nap. And snuggling Jovi on the couch. I remember her getting tired. And grouchy. And I remember putting her down for a nap. Life was so normal. Life was so good. I remember doing homework. I remember falling asleep. </div><div><br></div><div>I remember waking up. And getting a glass of water. And texting my husband how all I wanted to eat was candy. I remember needing to go to Target. Cash needed shoes for a wedding. Life was so normal. So freaking normal. And I wanted to do something very normal. I just wanted to wake Jovi up to go to Target.</div><div><br></div><div>And then, I remember the minute I got to the door. And I heard her alarm going off. And that was the very second my life changed forever. </div><div><br></div><div>I remember the panic. </div><div><br></div><div>I remember the sheer panic.</div><div><br></div><div>I remember the 911 call. </div><div><br></div><div>I remember sobbing and counting chest compressions. </div><div><br></div><div>And I remember seeing my dad. </div><div><br></div><div>And handing Jovi off to him. </div><div><br></div><div>Crumbling to the ground and just simply wanting to barf. I will never forget. </div><div><br></div><div>I remember the car ride. The sirens. </div><div><br></div><div>I remember the face of the lady I first saw when I entered the ER. I remember the room she was in. And hearing a voice asking if the mom had arrived. </div><div><br></div><div>I remember someone finally telling us it wasn't good and being allowed to come in. I remember seeing her and not understanding how she wasn't back and why she just looked like she was sleeping and how now I was suddenly being told she was gone. </div><div><br></div><div>I remember asking to hold her. And asking her to come back and not to leave. </div><div><br></div><div>I remember it all. I remember how she smelled like the hospital and not herself and that bothered me. I remember how her daddy cried when he held her and I remember the flood of loving people who stood by our side while we said goodbye. </div><div><br></div><div>I remember signs of death and wanting to barf again. And feeling the need to leave now. I remember walking out of the ER with sun shining in my face. Clutching the outfit I left for her to wear just hours before... And how the world was still going and how mine had now suddenly and without warning ended. </div><div><br></div><div>And I didn't understand. </div><div><br></div><div>I feel for this family. I remember that very second. I remember the aftermath and the months of waking up feeling bliss only to remember you are actually living your nightmare. </div><div><br></div><div>How I wish we were the last to lose... And to suffer. </div><div><br></div><div>I want to give his wife and babies a big hug and tell her life is really shitty right now. It really is. And nothing anyone says or does will really make it better at this point. </div><div><br></div><div>But- the fog will slowly start to life. And you won't feel so much like you are drowning. Slowly you will find what is a new normal as life never goes back to how it was. How time has now changed. It was before he died and life now after. They are two separate times. And how you are so changed and such a different person now. </div><div><br></div><div>I want to tell her she will, one day, find herself smiling a non-forced smile and a genuine laugh will come from her. </div><div><br></div><div>I want to stress that this life is still worth it. And that she will start to see good again, but that she doesn't have to right now because life is just real shitty at this time. </div><div><br></div><div>Hang in there, precious family. Know you are on the entire communities hearts (mine so very much). Feel all the feels. You can do this. </div><div><br></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227654669239291715.post-13690065615135091472015-04-12T21:20:00.001-07:002015-04-12T21:20:07.749-07:00Never EndsThat moment when it feels like you've been kicked in the chest when you see prom pictures and realize you will never get to see your baby girl off go prom. <div><br></div><div>There's times when I think I've let go of the dreams I had for you and the life I had planned for us. And, then, there's those moments when I realize those dreams will be grieved and missed for the entire time I'm away from you. </div><div><br></div><div>Here's to hoping there is prom in heaven. </div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglufrmiMdXX_yG7imu-eMzcd8YVrDRV2S3ChdIZtfxw6snVFGiWFpoHuV9MxFE9mTaYtMW07ScDcudGEHAN6VM9k_jlwSyhWanHDrf_0Wko7-5s_BjTgTJNzS8EIcIxbIAe94axCEYof5f/s640/blogger-image-1975934239.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglufrmiMdXX_yG7imu-eMzcd8YVrDRV2S3ChdIZtfxw6snVFGiWFpoHuV9MxFE9mTaYtMW07ScDcudGEHAN6VM9k_jlwSyhWanHDrf_0Wko7-5s_BjTgTJNzS8EIcIxbIAe94axCEYof5f/s640/blogger-image-1975934239.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">You looked beautiful in your fancy dress. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4427_KbTTcnxmsoHEwGq3MDuXo7XPpKYRQYFruSCgWCsnMkTjBuFlS0DK8odTjsP4-OTtCVQFf4YWje4WhaI7OqVcGQbcj9oW6ARYegMOP-9JboovnXI9YS7BN0XqNzWN_BLKHYj9R_FA/s640/blogger-image--1252364933.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4427_KbTTcnxmsoHEwGq3MDuXo7XPpKYRQYFruSCgWCsnMkTjBuFlS0DK8odTjsP4-OTtCVQFf4YWje4WhaI7OqVcGQbcj9oW6ARYegMOP-9JboovnXI9YS7BN0XqNzWN_BLKHYj9R_FA/s640/blogger-image--1252364933.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">You had a pretty sweet date, too. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">You are missed so much. I hope you are getting the kisses that boy sends you to Heaven each night. </div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We all love you more than words can say. To Heaven and back. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><br></div><br></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227654669239291715.post-51384627979510685872015-03-29T22:27:00.001-07:002015-03-29T22:27:41.649-07:00Baby, you are 3!I can't believe 13 days have passed since your birthday and I haven't even wished you a happy birthday on your special page. I think what it is, lovey, is that life does get easier to live with a broken heart. I get used to life without you. But, it does get harder, too. It's harder not knowing who you'd be. It's harder not having a clue what you would look like. It's so hard not knowing how your voice would sound. Would you call me mama or Mom like your baby sister does? What would you have called Cash? What would you love? Just who would you be? And so as your birthdays approach and I get farther and farther away from you and who are and who you would be, I am more heartbroken. More cheated. Easier because I have accepted this life. Easier because this is my reality. Easier because I have had to let go of those dreams but harder because I don't know you. And that's... just so depressing. <div><br></div><div><br></div><div>On a lighter note, your birthday was beautiful. We chose to celebrate with the world and ask everyone to do nice things for others in honor of you. It was overwhelming (in a wonderful way) to see the love. I could feel you through the amazing acts of kindess done all over the world in honor of you. It amazes me the light that you continue to shine even in heaven. It amazes me the impact you continue to leave. It amazes me how you can inspire such good. I was reminded there still is such good in this world that can be filled with such awful and depressing events. And you inspired all of that good. You are so good. I am so proud to be your mommy. Thank you to everyone who did something for my swer baby. You really made her birthday unforgettable. I wish more than anything I was making her a cake and sticking in three little candels... That is not real life for me and my family. "J is for Jovi" is the best way I can think to celebrate her life and pay tribute to the incredible joy she has brought my life. </div><div><br></div><div>Jovi Sloan- I can't even begin to say how much you are missed. Every. Single. Day. I love you to Heaven and back. Happy 3rd birthday my little blue-eyed beauty. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhypqDbWdatWpyvADlLpotzAfZGhLOFctkjLTTwcGPBSbWRZLcRPZ-cR3ArERvfCO0USZRN3JHYVs9e_xZwkfrAig8X0yoHr64j1YsU9OrufBfu27hRgfTChborcUc7kbqnnUJ1YnZ8rKAm/s640/blogger-image--479969034.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhypqDbWdatWpyvADlLpotzAfZGhLOFctkjLTTwcGPBSbWRZLcRPZ-cR3ArERvfCO0USZRN3JHYVs9e_xZwkfrAig8X0yoHr64j1YsU9OrufBfu27hRgfTChborcUc7kbqnnUJ1YnZ8rKAm/s640/blogger-image--479969034.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We filled the baby section with pink balloons.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9lqeLVd7GyL8hwT6_nFIk147OffJhWaO54foN4PNx7O9RbLEw9Ct5LMvKu0HEdlLh5SmXZTw13b63Q41Kg7oGqvwSs_Y5-Avs1eBugSb8XRFHunrD2jZK-0jfMIkQdLH25ClgRibdQanA/s640/blogger-image-1431420152.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9lqeLVd7GyL8hwT6_nFIk147OffJhWaO54foN4PNx7O9RbLEw9Ct5LMvKu0HEdlLh5SmXZTw13b63Q41Kg7oGqvwSs_Y5-Avs1eBugSb8XRFHunrD2jZK-0jfMIkQdLH25ClgRibdQanA/s640/blogger-image-1431420152.jpg"></a></div><br></div><br></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227654669239291715.post-81676577150339123342015-02-12T22:40:00.001-08:002015-02-12T22:40:02.129-08:00Baby girlBeautiful baby- <br><div><br></div><div>As we approach your birthday, I can't help but think about the excitement I felt this time three years ago. How I remember anticipating Valentine's Day because that meant you were coming soon after. How I would sit in your room and dream of you. How I went to bed every night thinking tonight would be my last night holding you in my belly and the morning would bring you into my arms. I remember feeling you move in my belly (my how you were active). I remember sitting in church one day and thinking how you were going to kick yourself out right in that moment. You were one strong girl. </div><div><br></div><div>I remember the day I was told you would come today. I remember the extreme joy (and nervousness) that I was going to meet my baby girl <i>today</i>. I remember walking the halls for hours and nurses constantly saying "no baby yet?". And I will never forget how you suddenly just decided now was the time and you were born faster than anyone expected. I remember seeing your face for the first time and I will never forget the immense measure of love I felt looking into your eyes for the very first time. It was as if I was meeting someone I'd always known and how suddenly you completed my world. How I never knew that I missed you, but in that moment, I realized you were what was missing. I remember holding you for what felt like hours and cherishing every second of feeling your new skin against mine. </div><div><br></div><div>These moments I have always been afraid of forgetting. But, how can I forget the day I meant the one my soul needed and the one who filled a hole I never even knew was missing. </div><div><br></div><div>As I approach your birthday this year, I will choose to remember these moments. I (will forever and always) wish you were here. And that I was looking into your sweet blue eyes on your birthday and getting to ask you what kind of big 3rd birthday you wanted- I will never forget these precious moments. 3... I can't believe it. </div><div><br></div><div>You are missed immeasurably. You will never be forgotten. Never replaced. My heart aches for you and will always long for you to be back with me. Thank you for all of our precious little moments. Thank you for all of your serious gazes and for all the times you would just gaze at me. Thank you for changing me. I miss you today more than yesterday. </div><div><br></div><div>Love-</div><div>Your mommy</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227654669239291715.post-49248310403862635012015-01-28T20:33:00.001-08:002015-01-28T20:35:47.062-08:00Lila J.I heard from a friend who knew someone who lost a baby and then had their rainbow. Their rainbow always felt like a replacement. I never, ever want Lila to think that so I was trying to think of all the things I want her to know. <div><br></div><div>1.) Jovi was meant to live a short life. While I don't believe she died to punish someone or teach us a lesson, I do believe that somehow her life was known to be short. She was meant to die (that makes me cry to even write). But she was. She wasn't meant for a long life on Earth. So, she never would still be here for the "if Jovi would have lived, I would not be here". Jovi wasn't meant to live. Lila J, you were meant to be here just as much as your sister was. You were meant to be here just as much as your brother. Your life was meant to be. I prayed for you and your life more than I could ever explain. You, my sweet girl, are meant to be here. </div><div><br></div><div>2.) I can't even begin to explain how stressed I was when I was pregnant with you. I can't begin to explain how terrified I was of losing you. I vividly remember the day you were born. I remember holding you. Feeling your warm and breathing body and remember crying. Crying because I got through one stage of keeping you. I know life is never a guarantee but I was so blessed to have you in my arms and I knew it more than many because of losing your sister. All I could do was cry and stare at your precious little face. I couldn't contain my sheer gratitude for the fact I got to keep you even if only a few seconds. I remember that big sigh of relief knowing i had you safe in my arms and you hadn't died yet. I can't even begin to explain what you did for my heart that day. How you made it grow three times. How you filled me with such joy. And how you gave me more hope than I had seen or felt in a long time. How you (yes, you) brought our entire family so much light and how your light shone in what felt like a sea of dark a lot of the time. All of this only in the first few hours of knowing you. You are a big deal. </div><div><br></div><div>3.) Like the day you were born, your light continued to grow as you got older. You helped heal Mommy's heart in more ways than I ever thought possible. I never took time for granted with you. I remember studying every detail of your pudgy hands. I love, love dimples on baby hands. Your big baby thighs. I remember you learning to smile and the first time I heard your giggle. I cherish the memory of you eating food for the first time. I never once complained that you didn't sleep because it meant you were alive. I held you so often. Cleaning the house with you strapped to me... And I'll never forget it. You were my mommy's girl and I can't begin to say how good that felt. I would take notice of your baby smell everyday. Sometimes you smelled like lavender, sometimes ritz crackers, sometimes baby lotion... I couldn't get enough of you. </div><div><br></div><div>4.) You are meant to be in our family and you continue to bring us so much joy. I find myself content with just watching you (and your brother) for hours. I notice so much of the things you do. How you eat... How your run... How you climb stairs or how you suck on your paci. You are so loved and we've never ever felt like you weren't meant for us. You play an extremely important role in our family and life would not ever feel right without you. </div><div><br></div><div>You, my little lady, are loved.</div><div><br></div><div>You, my little monkey, are cherished. </div><div><br></div><div>You, my little love, are meant to be. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcvV2YvUjLSe_L2bawiBCXutpns_8-WGeeLbYYA2vC6_vIvAc4IRUe73HqvEXZLhgo-6z3ysRNlEWpeQXf0rGduTEmojjW3NTA3c7B0smkF0-zbEP9dMZwOPI28VFVhTG0eB3AHKDGwFXK/s640/blogger-image-2073734529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcvV2YvUjLSe_L2bawiBCXutpns_8-WGeeLbYYA2vC6_vIvAc4IRUe73HqvEXZLhgo-6z3ysRNlEWpeQXf0rGduTEmojjW3NTA3c7B0smkF0-zbEP9dMZwOPI28VFVhTG0eB3AHKDGwFXK/s640/blogger-image-2073734529.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOSC7xNZ6EmU5UE3aHl5FlqoPJB_HWOB5GpxWrNR14z8a8t37BfuGOeJ-R_dJmS2nQ6fLU2YWGSG2alq4gRTQsmis1BzUYd_flyK9xa8XnxiLw3VwBNKvJYGipF4zHHuFDEkHYX0P2ZtQx/s640/blogger-image-1496738332.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOSC7xNZ6EmU5UE3aHl5FlqoPJB_HWOB5GpxWrNR14z8a8t37BfuGOeJ-R_dJmS2nQ6fLU2YWGSG2alq4gRTQsmis1BzUYd_flyK9xa8XnxiLw3VwBNKvJYGipF4zHHuFDEkHYX0P2ZtQx/s640/blogger-image-1496738332.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvVQr0fOw003edGKUd_lKDSe_ymzNXdCRMYCYWT-7rRUNb2xUdmsWc6b3qQDt2wCZ_Vlpv2SPGf5aqJaPG3sqqY6VVsDv35EyBgmiOj3byEd6s5YMZE8wOz8REe85g9ey6OSyMDSBaukhQ/s640/blogger-image-746782450.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvVQr0fOw003edGKUd_lKDSe_ymzNXdCRMYCYWT-7rRUNb2xUdmsWc6b3qQDt2wCZ_Vlpv2SPGf5aqJaPG3sqqY6VVsDv35EyBgmiOj3byEd6s5YMZE8wOz8REe85g9ey6OSyMDSBaukhQ/s640/blogger-image-746782450.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixU-eZSecVMhpB4ZHJS414p943K35HjTEAZl9__jLS0nkqpspoky7ZhsVno9QbsYCBKxv-xN7SlCbg3f2Qo67RF-xDBqAxMpOeKoRxTJI8ZwxyP50oRDXjNTzgjrPjrnDZ3xl3A46mtyWr/s640/blogger-image-1857546120.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixU-eZSecVMhpB4ZHJS414p943K35HjTEAZl9__jLS0nkqpspoky7ZhsVno9QbsYCBKxv-xN7SlCbg3f2Qo67RF-xDBqAxMpOeKoRxTJI8ZwxyP50oRDXjNTzgjrPjrnDZ3xl3A46mtyWr/s640/blogger-image-1857546120.jpg"></a></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227654669239291715.post-51606868428157703262015-01-11T15:12:00.002-08:002015-01-11T20:45:12.580-08:00Moved.We moved!<br>
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I've been seriously slacking in the blogging world. We put our house on the market back in July. It sold in 5 weeks and we had to be out by the beginning of September. We had originally planned on building, so moved into my parents for a few months waiting for our house to finish. Long story short, builder slacked and we still didn't have permits months later. We ended up putting an offer on an existing house and moved in 4 weeks ago. Phew. That's a lot of what we've been up to the last few months summed up into a short paragraph! *Huge thank you to my parents for letting us invade their quiet (and clean) house. They are lifesavers and we owe them so much thanks!<br>
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I know many baby loss mommas asked if I felt sad to "leave" Jovi in the only house she lived and was a part of our family in, and the honest answer- is no. I didn't. That house was filled with wonderful memories. We brought Cash, our first born, home there. We brought Jovi home there. We brought Lila home there. BUT, Jovi died there. And that HUGE disaster day was always there. Lingering... There were times I would open the master bedroom and the thoughts of the day she died would just hit me like a ton of bricks. I could tell you exactly where I gave her CPR and I had to walk by that spot numerous times... day after day after day. While there was so much good, there was also so much bad. The bad always seemed to overtake the good. And I was ready to say goodbye and have a fresh start.<br>
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My husband and I have had a rough year. It's something I've thought about blogging about. I go back and forth and may say more but let's just leave it at- we separated for a few months. I always promised I'd be true and honest in this blog, but something about opening up about our relationship this past year seems incredibly hard. Losing a baby is so hard on a marriage. I never thought that we would be troubled by Jovi's loss in our marriage. But, it did. It hit us and hit us hard this year. We went to counseling. We read books and continued to pursue each other and our family. We (obviously) are doing better now as we have made the big leap into purchasing a new home together. We are on the track to being better than ever. But, this was another big thing that I wanted to leave behind. A lot of stress and baggage lived in that house.<br>
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Of course, so many emotions came with me but leaving those extra triggers behind has been so relieving. It's like a breath of fresh air. A new start for my sweet little family. I'm so glad that I don't think of the day I opened that door and heard that dreadful alarm every time I go to my bedroom. I don't have to pass the spot where I tried to save my baby's life multiple times a day. I don't have to open my front door and remember passing my baby off to my dad. This is better. This is so much better.<br>
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Jovi came with us. I know she's always with me and I know I carry her wherever I go. She didn't just live in that house and we left her behind. We put up her pictures. We have her quilt out. We keep her memory alive in our new house and always in our hearts. She missed so much. I could write an entire blog just about Cash and how he still asks about his sister in Heaven and ponders why she died. Asking things like why did Papa and I have to go to the hospital so fast with Jovi? Just randomly... it's amazing to see what an impact she's left on her brother. Sibling love is strong and I can see it daily in his innocent questions and even sorrow-filled heart as he still can't understand why we can't just bring her back.<br>
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Life is different now. I think of her still so much of the day, but a new day doesn't bring me the "I can't breathe my baby died" feeling. I have accepted this life and our life feels normal without her. It doesn't feel right. She's always missed. Something is always missing. But, it does feel like this is my normal now. I see her everywhere. The kids' boots were drying against the wall the other day and I saw the gap where hers should be and it made me cry thinking they should be there. And, also, made me smile knowing she's never forgotten and how my eyes see her and my heart feels her in the smallest of things.<br>
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Jovi Sloan- you are such a special girl. You've made me strong and have impacted our entire family in so many ways. <b><i>Thank you for making me a better person</i></b>. You continue to light up the world, baby. I love you to Heaven and back.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227654669239291715.post-32911742636872668912014-12-30T23:02:00.001-08:002014-12-30T23:06:09.874-08:00HateI don't get America. <div><br></div><div>A black man is killed and riots pursue. People around the country band together to protest and chant #blacklivesmatter. But, when mom is accidentally shot by her two-year-old son, she deserved to die. I don't understand. </div><div><br></div><div>I believe in love. </div><div><br></div><div>I believe in Jesus. </div><div><br></div><div>I believe in His simple, yet profoundly powerful statement about all we need to do is love Him and love each other. "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than these.” (Mark 12:30-31 NIV). There is nothing greater. Nothing better. Nothing more rewarding. Jesus simply stated the greatest commandments and those were the two of upmost importance. So, where is the the love, America? </div><div><br></div><div>We are all so quick to judge. So quick to hate so quick to respond to violence with violence. </div><div><br></div><div>When you feel your entire race has been wronged? You light fire to buildings. </div><div><br></div><div>When a smoker gets the tragic news of lung cancer, he deserved it. </div><div><br></div><div>When man is killed for taking another life, he got what he deserved. </div><div><br></div><div>All people deserve life. No one deserves to die. We weren't taught that people deserve death and life in hell. We were taught to live a good life. A life filled with loving your neighbor as yourself and not passing judgement. Do I believe in punishment, yes. But, I don't believe that it's our job as these peoples' "neighbors" to cast out our own judgement and our own punishments when most times, we don't even know the entire story. </div><div><br></div><div>I don't understand the quick to judge and quick to think we know what someone else deserves especially when it comes to taking someone's life. It's not our job. </div><div><br></div><div>Jesus loves the policeman, the murderer, the priest, the nurse. He loves the pastor, the baby, the runner and the rapist. Jesus adores the felon, the bereaved, the terrorist, and the firefighter. He loves the mother, the doctor, the pilot, and the abuser. He loves the drug addict, the garbage man, the alcoholic, and the grandparent. Jesus loves all. As should we because #alllivesmatter. </div><div><br></div><div>It's simple. </div><div><br></div><div>Love Jesus. Love each other. </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227654669239291715.post-50817409927062526602014-11-23T21:56:00.001-08:002014-11-23T21:59:19.460-08:00It's Not GodI posted last month about the over use of phrases about "it's in God's plan" or "God doesn't give you more than you can handle". I've been thinking on this for months. Seeking answers and looking deeply into the God I love and the God who loves me. It boggles my mind that this God I have a relationship with would hurt me or cause me immense suffering, just to learn a lesson. And, then, it dawned on me even more that I don't think God is the cause of suffering. <div><br></div><div>It started with God's plan. We aren't puppets. We have free will, but God has a plan for this world. God has a plan for me and my life. I believe God's plan is good and loving and full. God has an ending to this world's story and He is taking us all and using us all as part of His story. I believe that. But, I don't believe that He inflicts pain and suffering on us to better us or better others. To teach us a lesson or to teach someone else a lesson. </div><div><br></div><div>We live in a broken world. Thank you, Adam and Eve, for creating a world with pain and destruction. Suffering not caused by God. God hates destruction. I can only imagine the pain and tears that suffering bring His loving heart. He despises it. So, why, then would He create it? All for a lesson? All because we need to be punished? </div><div><br></div><div>I can't imagine my loving God inflicting a single mom with Stage 4 cancer. I can't my loving God giving a baby a tumor in utero. I can't imagine my God damning someone to be raped. I can't imagine Him taking a baby from his mother. It doesn't make sense. I believe He wept when these things happened. His heart was heavy with sorrow. I can't imagine Him using these things for punishment. </div><div><br></div><div>I think He comes in. And the bad, the destruction, Satan... They all try to deviate from His plan. But, He is bigger than anything. God is bigger than death. He is bigger than destruction. He is bigger than pain. Bigger than suffering. So much bigger than Satan. He comes in and He wraps the victim in love. And because He is bigger, He makes that shitty event for the better for those who love Him. He surrounds us with comfort and love and peace. And He has the sole power to turn that so awful event into something good. Only He can make it better because He is so <b><i>good. </i></b></div><div><b><i><br></i></b></div><div>I don't believe He took my baby. I believe He wept with me on the day my baby died. I don't believe I was punished. I don't believe Jovi was given a life of just 16 weeks. I believe that His heart was heavy when she passed and He worked His works to create her death for the good. To bring us back to His story. To get us back on track to loving Him and loving one another. </div><div><br></div><div>I don't think suffering is in God's plan for us. He sent His Son to suffer for us. </div><div><br></div><div>My God is bigger than suffering. Bigger than pain. Bigger than destruction. </div><div><br></div><div>My God makes all things <b><i>good. </i></b></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227654669239291715.post-83922087223339113782014-10-14T20:33:00.001-07:002014-10-16T22:34:21.535-07:00When Your World is RockedThis post has been weighing on my heart since a local mom was just diagnosed with cancer. My heart hurts for her and is heavy knowing vaguely how it feels. I can't relate on the diagnosis, but I know what it's like and how it feels when your entire world is turned upside down. And suddenly your life is not normal and it's terrifying. I remember all too well how it feels to feel like you are drowning and how your chest feels so heavy you can barely breathe. I remember wanting to so badly to wake up from that nightmare. <div><br></div><div>I remember the terrible things people would say to me. Telling me Jovi was too perfect for this earth. Or that God needed another angel. I remember them telling me that everything happens for a reason or that God doesn't give you more than you can handle. I remember being told God gives and God takes away. It was all so insensitive. And so rude. And so cold. And I can hear the people telling her these insanely insensitive things and I want to apologize for them. I want to hug her and tell her that God does love her. And that sometimes life is insanely shitty. And that sometimes it isn't God. That I don't think God gave her cancer. I heard on a show recently (Call the Midwife) in response to someone asking where God was in a tragic death and the response was so clear and so loving and so true. It's hit my heart and I can't stop thinking about how it made me feel so incredibly loved and answered my longing question as to where God was when Jovi died. God isn't in the event. God is in the response to the event. He's in the love and care shown after. This rings so true in me. I, often, say that I truly felt God's immense love on the day Jovi died. He was there and He gave me everyone I needed. He didn't take my baby. But, He made it as good as He could. </div><div><br></div><div>I want to tell her how people will ignore her. And avoid her because they don't know what to say. How she will suddenly be ignored and be made to feel like she did something wrong. I remember getting the nerve to finally venture to the grocery store and how people would see me and literally go the other way. So unloving. So hurtful. Again. So cold. I want to remind her that people just don't know what to say. They will try but fail miserably. I tried so hard to have grace but it would get so hard hearing how Jovi's death was like when their dog, Oliver, died. </div><div><br></div><div>But, I want to tell her that with all those who are cold and mean and unloving, they'll be more than she can count who will wrap her in love. Wrap her in prayer. Wrap her in gifts. In help with easing financial stress and to help her with her precious boy and bring her yummy food. The community she lives in is (mostly) incredible and she's going to be blown away and left speechless by the love. And I want to remind her that that is where God is. Because I remember the immense struggle where He was when my baby died. But, He was right there. He was wrapping me in love and I didn't even know. </div><div><br></div><div>Please be praying for a special mommy tonight and her sweet family. For her friends and family. And, also, for wisdom</div><div>for all those around her. </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227654669239291715.post-8757306835341905712014-10-14T20:15:00.001-07:002014-10-14T20:15:17.695-07:003rd Time WalkingToday we were able to honor and remember Jovi and all other local babies lost to SIDS. <div><br></div><div>I can't believe it's the third year now that I've had to go and be a part of this crappy group. I really slacked this year and didn't help at all with the run. I just couldn't and just didn't want to be a part of the group this year. Sometimes it's just way too hard. </div><div><br></div><div>Again- I'm amazed by the attendance and the people who continue to come and honor my baby. The people who come and continue to support my family. </div><div><br></div><div>A huge thank you to my fire family. I know I'm not technically part of it, but you all know who you are and you continue to amaze me with your kindness. You continue to amaze me with your support and that you all remember Jovi. Many of you are on the board of the foundation, volunteer, come to the run every yeasr... You all know who you are and mean more to me than I could ever say. I've gained many real and true friendships from you girls. Thank you. </div><div><br></div><div>Thank you to some of my good friends. Those of you who came from miles away, those of you who came before a wedding, those of you who put in countless hours on the foundation and the run, those of you who continue to come and run every single year. It means so much to me to see your faces. </div><div><br></div><div>Thank you to new friends who shared in their first run and for taking time out of your busy lives for my baby girl. </div><div><br></div><div>I'm continued to be amazed by the impact Jovi has left. She is a remarkable baby. I know she was with us today and smiling at all of you who came just for her. </div><div><br></div><div>Jovi- I'll continue to remember you every single day. I'll continue to be impacted by you every single day. I'll continue to love you every single day. While I like that I have an incredible support system, I wish you were here. I wish I didn't have to have a support system. I wish you were here to snuggle on the couch with, to read stories to, to do your hair, to wrestle you, to tell you "no", to hear your talk, to feed you breakfast, to hear you say mama and I love you...</div><div><br></div><div>I love you to Heaven and back. I'll never forget you, little lady. </div><div><br></div><div>Love, Mommy</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg04qKuFA8W65AWddE8dU-uxtCoZYuRKAWjNg1zlhke0QQZChTOWQJDtFkxuZlOBJgtR5DZtC_-sUxiIYseaxIymmieU8wqqKi_AAR-I93RgbSqb8INauRp4MQRzCm-9ebebvsKsL1xkQ62/s640/blogger-image--1097518843.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg04qKuFA8W65AWddE8dU-uxtCoZYuRKAWjNg1zlhke0QQZChTOWQJDtFkxuZlOBJgtR5DZtC_-sUxiIYseaxIymmieU8wqqKi_AAR-I93RgbSqb8INauRp4MQRzCm-9ebebvsKsL1xkQ62/s640/blogger-image--1097518843.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaJOXp30IHTHELHbBRu5SXTcryEK0vz_pB8N3OKnqsiNceSbTrHJQr4_diFrD4Qb59B8IDo60eZcZc18wA9Y-CT9mH5Rm_6XVXeVZGr9izFzakeSRvYMMG9ZmLwdBCCvkOgeluxOkNTZm6/s640/blogger-image-378677572.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaJOXp30IHTHELHbBRu5SXTcryEK0vz_pB8N3OKnqsiNceSbTrHJQr4_diFrD4Qb59B8IDo60eZcZc18wA9Y-CT9mH5Rm_6XVXeVZGr9izFzakeSRvYMMG9ZmLwdBCCvkOgeluxOkNTZm6/s640/blogger-image-378677572.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxyFr5aehxdTQj5Z0WnsTqjIegdhEZhtXeAkBEK5J8BSs9DwSH3Xij2z-KOEg90qfTGahSxKWR5ua4acmpVWiClMzqP3PSTJrICBQsSBiHTgtLxXCtEzj_Gcoe5r15Rq5KyGvtPPwDgdp2/s640/blogger-image-46904181.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxyFr5aehxdTQj5Z0WnsTqjIegdhEZhtXeAkBEK5J8BSs9DwSH3Xij2z-KOEg90qfTGahSxKWR5ua4acmpVWiClMzqP3PSTJrICBQsSBiHTgtLxXCtEzj_Gcoe5r15Rq5KyGvtPPwDgdp2/s640/blogger-image-46904181.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy50Th2dcS9nW84ZsWMm71YUT68Z5um0CtSalGl8R9qvwa7xzg2X7r_9ytC2F11raTmjtxWJWuGem49KZu0vgol7iyvvk0Dz-s8no64uI8GvaZS7G5PgLyghKgYsxQomdocRPMdaHwlhyR/s640/blogger-image-1691316727.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy50Th2dcS9nW84ZsWMm71YUT68Z5um0CtSalGl8R9qvwa7xzg2X7r_9ytC2F11raTmjtxWJWuGem49KZu0vgol7iyvvk0Dz-s8no64uI8GvaZS7G5PgLyghKgYsxQomdocRPMdaHwlhyR/s640/blogger-image-1691316727.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227654669239291715.post-65998464980058416792014-09-27T22:27:00.001-07:002014-09-27T22:27:06.743-07:00Loved.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Today I was thinking about you. And who you would be. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I was thinking about the day I get to see you again. What an amazing day it will be. I wonder who you'll be then and how you'll look. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I think of you, your sweet voice, your precious face, and the impact you've left on my heart so many times throughout my day. The tiniest things remind me of you. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">You are cherished. You are loved. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">You are missed every second of every day. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"> Come visit me soon?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I love you to Heaven and back, Jovi Sloan. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZcfwZ68tICDSUbHDt8F-XRJDLIgYNIDmlM0uzgSEX7bZN35jqmXWFTJa1pjb0USL39sREbpa9PROcWaUT46btYI1AiigFWeCe5NaViBur_X1APZdHgboIPh-v0sT0sHfXnr093y5Qg-vm/s640/blogger-image-1365479614.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZcfwZ68tICDSUbHDt8F-XRJDLIgYNIDmlM0uzgSEX7bZN35jqmXWFTJa1pjb0USL39sREbpa9PROcWaUT46btYI1AiigFWeCe5NaViBur_X1APZdHgboIPh-v0sT0sHfXnr093y5Qg-vm/s640/blogger-image-1365479614.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I have died everyday waiting for you. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Darling don't be afraid I have loved you</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">For a thousand years. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I'll love you for a thousand more. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">"A Thousand Years" Christena Perri</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227654669239291715.post-1342959786810661292014-09-05T22:21:00.001-07:002014-09-05T22:21:24.582-07:00Cash E.When did you get so big?!<div><br></div><div>You continue to make us laugh all day, every day. </div><div><br></div><div>I could never tell you or explain to you his you kept me going in my darkest of days.</div><div><br></div><div>I'm so thankful you are our son. And that God gave me you. </div><div><br></div><div>You are in kindergarten! You just finished your first week and seemed to love it. </div><div><br></div><div>You make us proud. </div><div><br></div><div>We are so thankful for you!</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE5mKQheUTcReYzsdPABXmIqtMfYaREd_ZQIsLUU8QPyLtx6_ixvhveZupLMtwIH7RyNxhdUzKevMCZeu4JtDc8xXumhPw3vMKe1Hx-JxncUpF8vCdWgd_yfKbaDRUMEB7a4RlxcEYOrvi/s640/blogger-image--1385320640.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE5mKQheUTcReYzsdPABXmIqtMfYaREd_ZQIsLUU8QPyLtx6_ixvhveZupLMtwIH7RyNxhdUzKevMCZeu4JtDc8xXumhPw3vMKe1Hx-JxncUpF8vCdWgd_yfKbaDRUMEB7a4RlxcEYOrvi/s640/blogger-image--1385320640.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD9Lbh3-aPTqfswmx6WJwtvf0oVs9DAIKnZ32rkhVbbJ4lu9auWqM27Li7BKd9o4-EDwY5mW29cdYk-0AYGnlfDuk45ecMtuc8ICL9XL6aemQotOTpqc4RaNzU4i_3LDv17EIFdVSSCvm7/s640/blogger-image-1332548346.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD9Lbh3-aPTqfswmx6WJwtvf0oVs9DAIKnZ32rkhVbbJ4lu9auWqM27Li7BKd9o4-EDwY5mW29cdYk-0AYGnlfDuk45ecMtuc8ICL9XL6aemQotOTpqc4RaNzU4i_3LDv17EIFdVSSCvm7/s640/blogger-image-1332548346.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBk8tnkre8GEV2KkI_WUPxXzWL6r-tF_IuWOE_eIwzaiI6ipzCwSMXMaISbrPlkkYhFOJ7EO8sgkDJoZVKRlQoDzIlu_9LkfOFoEHzKxM4Cb9pme56SV0ngid5GiIADcO9Nc5X21Hht1EB/s640/blogger-image--1307532451.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBk8tnkre8GEV2KkI_WUPxXzWL6r-tF_IuWOE_eIwzaiI6ipzCwSMXMaISbrPlkkYhFOJ7EO8sgkDJoZVKRlQoDzIlu_9LkfOFoEHzKxM4Cb9pme56SV0ngid5GiIADcO9Nc5X21Hht1EB/s640/blogger-image--1307532451.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Rk-kO9CMJeMB7B81Hj2tRBXQRfRzwqh5udUjZquG0sNpuZXMuvIH9wV8ERAqOFDfBq_u1sSTb8kmzvj2pfgH94JMzvB7myfc6D8KKp1vZhViXoC_C2juNzrQXn41vH5LIlRas344fU4H/s640/blogger-image--1989352592.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Rk-kO9CMJeMB7B81Hj2tRBXQRfRzwqh5udUjZquG0sNpuZXMuvIH9wV8ERAqOFDfBq_u1sSTb8kmzvj2pfgH94JMzvB7myfc6D8KKp1vZhViXoC_C2juNzrQXn41vH5LIlRas344fU4H/s640/blogger-image--1989352592.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1r8Ooey4xkzE6O-McI0PMlWDakVBcXEV6rla-94rESN53mIGPnQA70f7-YvfgP5FMMixrKvLvQFSFPqH5ly-emmI099Mj5hpYMJdvcNsNXjys-iv3EPw4uI1emnQ41fWXLMbk9wgFUYod/s640/blogger-image-1427899894.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1r8Ooey4xkzE6O-McI0PMlWDakVBcXEV6rla-94rESN53mIGPnQA70f7-YvfgP5FMMixrKvLvQFSFPqH5ly-emmI099Mj5hpYMJdvcNsNXjys-iv3EPw4uI1emnQ41fWXLMbk9wgFUYod/s640/blogger-image-1427899894.jpg"></a></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227654669239291715.post-60820466705252838252014-09-05T22:16:00.001-07:002014-09-05T22:16:44.366-07:00LJ<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>The amount of laughter, love and pure joy this girl brings our lives is unreal. <div><br></div><div>Losing a baby makes you treasure and cherish everything. Even the very smallest of things. </div><div><br></div><div>You, LJ, are full of life. </div><div><br></div><div>We are so thankful for you. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhStGvqZCpksMWsgLFxP2GBcARa7UEgOkFVM6kt82fwS-FzCv4LVwaPHA0xXkpjFTS9w9sN0dhmyOVW-mwCxi7c0RO_Rbb1GWsgsvIJdepukQXkzKkOtFSt1UsRL6zh69MU2s4mChBhkp2O/s640/blogger-image-1410854419.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhStGvqZCpksMWsgLFxP2GBcARa7UEgOkFVM6kt82fwS-FzCv4LVwaPHA0xXkpjFTS9w9sN0dhmyOVW-mwCxi7c0RO_Rbb1GWsgsvIJdepukQXkzKkOtFSt1UsRL6zh69MU2s4mChBhkp2O/s640/blogger-image-1410854419.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTD1UvWqrfqJX7Y46MSZdwazi5J0JJWciDWH3K_136Wx5mn18Y23DIFAUsTaHAaBSiAUfWB6jE0h-UF7hfqMiSPb8vEzUMnu0x1KL7M-r3HXy6SEhgkXLZg1QhALQd6PAKzDu6ahR4LzQE/s640/blogger-image--1738891597.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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It really got me thinking. And made me realize how different my life has turned out. <div><br></div><div>My biggest thing I would stress 'young' self is this- your life is going to turn out entirely different than you could ever imagine. Some really incredible, wonderful, amazing things will happen. Chapters of your life are going to be filled with joy, filled with laughter, filled with love, and filled full of wonder. But, with those good incredible chapters, your life will be filled with sadness, despair, tragic turns and events you won't see coming. You will fall. You will be knocked down. You will struggle and feel like you are drowning. </div><div><br></div><div>But, you will always get up. You will keep smiling. After those really terrible chapters, light starts coming again. Laughter finds it's way back in. You will find joy and peace again. </div><div><br></div><div>Despite the bad, you still will have a good life. You have been blessed. Very blessed. You will cherish and appreciate the smallest things. </div><div><br></div><div>God is good. </div><div><br></div><div>You need to own your life. You need to own it all- even the very bad chapters.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227654669239291715.post-69796204724371365642014-08-08T21:57:00.001-07:002014-08-08T21:57:02.757-07:00TodayToday I miss you more than yesterday. <div><br></div><div>I miss the way you exercised in the bath. </div><div><br></div><div>I miss your sweet little voice. </div><div><br></div><div>I miss the way you always cried in the car. </div><div><br></div><div>I miss waking you up just because I missed you. </div><div><br></div><div>I miss kissing you. </div><div><br></div><div>I missed you sitting. </div><div><br></div><div>I missed you walking. </div><div><br></div><div>I missed you saying mama. </div><div><br></div><div>I missed you becoming you. </div><div><br></div><div>I missed you swimming. </div><div><br></div><div>I missed you going to school. </div><div><br></div><div>I missed you in a dance recital. </div><div><br></div><div>I missed you going to prom. </div><div><br></div><div>I missed you graduating. </div><div><br></div><div>I missed you getting married. </div><div><br></div><div>I missed you having babies. </div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div>I love you more than ever. </div><div><br></div><div>Not a day goes by that I don't think of you. </div><div><br></div><div>I love you to Heaven and back, little lady. </div><div><br></div><div>Love, </div><div>Mommy </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBax7hocyqv5uHTOmZ9pfp5hujJ4l8HP6X77rU70mswy0jfU1A-qkbzAf_dcu_C3i4pfd14Ed3_AeNNy_NTRSusgR_nkXUXbUIYK7YneXDnmsv12WJ7yhf9Yc_cUjq1CcvpXd2xxRL532_/s640/blogger-image--983178062.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBax7hocyqv5uHTOmZ9pfp5hujJ4l8HP6X77rU70mswy0jfU1A-qkbzAf_dcu_C3i4pfd14Ed3_AeNNy_NTRSusgR_nkXUXbUIYK7YneXDnmsv12WJ7yhf9Yc_cUjq1CcvpXd2xxRL532_/s640/blogger-image--983178062.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227654669239291715.post-21889377573460496372014-08-04T21:09:00.001-07:002014-08-04T21:09:01.778-07:00Tired MommaDear Tired Momma, <div><br></div><div>I see it in your eyes. The struggle and the look of desperation. The thing about motherhood is it's insanely difficult. And no one tells you it is. Everyone says it's so dreamy. And you love your baby more than anything. And you are going to just love being a mommy. While this is true, motherhood is hard. It's trying and somedays it's incredibly difficult and you hate it. And that's okay. </div><div><br></div><div>You see, Tired Momma, no one tells you that your little miracle baby may not sleep for months. Months they will cry and you will be running on very low hours of sleep. You'll be expected to function. Expected to keep the house clean. Expected to have well dressed kids. Expected to lose all the baby weight. Expected to feed your baby all organic food all the while you are expected to make the said organic good all the while you are expected to keep the landfills from overfilling by using cloth diapers. Being a mom is hard, hard work. </div><div><br></div><div>You see, tired momma, you will have days where your baby cries and you accidentally turn off the baby monitor in a zombie-like state. Only to wake up in the morning and realize what you did. You never went in. You feel so terrible. But, it's okay, tired momma. Baby is okay. </div><div><br></div><div>You see, momma, you will have days where you feed your toddler Mac and cheese (Kraft, even, not the organic stuff) complete with no veggies or fruit. You'll feel entirely guilty that you don't have a "balanced" meal. And you know what? It's okay. Your toddler will be okay on a meal of boxed food. </div><div><br></div><div>You see, momma, there are days where you will allow your preschooler to watch too much screen time because the sound of their voice and their never-ending stories are starting to make you cringe. And. Again. It's okay, momma. Tomorrow will be a better and new day. </div><div><br></div><div>The thing is, momma, is too many of us put guilt on ourselves to be perfect. And that just isn't possible. Striving to be something that isn't possible. </div><div><br></div><div>You need to think about yourself, momma. And if the occasional meal without organic fruits and veggies helps your sanity- it's worth it. </div><div><br></div><div>If you let your child(ren) watch too much tv one day because you just can't handle doing dozens of Pinterest crafts with your kid(s)... Or you just can't handle anymore talking about the neighbor kid's bike... Do it. It's okay. It's worth your sanity. </div><div><br></div><div>If baby was up all night with a cold and you eat 7 pancakes instead of going for that jog... You know what? It's okay. </div><div><br></div><div>At the end of the day, your babies will never remember if they had balanced meals. They won't remember the occasional day they were allowed to watch tv all day (heck, they will probably love it), or if they had to cry themselves to sleep one night because of an occasional monitor mishap. </div><div><br></div><div>You child feels loved. They know they are loved. That is what is important. They don't care about minutes of screen time. They don't judge you for feeding them a plate filled with orange food, and they don't judge you for eating an entire pint of Ben and Jerry's after dinner. </div><div><br></div><div>These little love-sucking monsters love you for you. You are their world. You keep them safe. You keep them fed. You are their hero. The person who instantly makes boo-boo's feel better. The person who showers them with kisses. The one who is there to encourage them to eat their dinner with a spoon, to love their sister, and to ride a bike without training wheels. </div><div><br></div><div>You are doing an incredible job, momma. </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227654669239291715.post-35735226143006910942014-07-20T22:48:00.001-07:002014-07-20T22:52:35.481-07:00LJ is AdmittedLittle Lila spent six total days in the hospital this month. We "celebrated" the 4th of July in the hospital. We missed out on Parker's Place (a camp for families who have lost a child), and we faced a lot<div>of fears. She was discharged just two days before Jovi's anniversary. Stressful? Very. But, did create a distraction even if it was a very bad distraction. </div><div><br></div><div>Lila had been sick off and on for awhile with a lingering cough. I'd taken her in numerous times and she even was on antibiotics just 2 weeks before admit. LJ got really sick on Tuesday. Fever of 102. Lethargic. No appetite. Threw up once. I assumed that she had the barfs. I was prepared for a long night with a barfing kiddo. She slept all night. Woke up at 4 am with a 103 fever. She was sounding pretty junky and really lethargic. I was reading stuff online (good ole trust google) and really thought she could have pneumonia. All the signs were everything she had had recently... </div><div>She was seen at peds office. We went for an X-ray and lab work. X-ray showed left lower lobe pneumonia. Labs came back looking ok but not bad/not great. Decided to admit her (I think started mainly because of our crappy history). </div><div><br></div><div>By the time we got to the hospital, she wouldn't lift up her head and had a fever of 105. This was the scariest moment. She was so sick and I was so thankful to be where someone else could "save her". </div><div>I didn't realize how scared I was until we finally came home. And I could finally process how crappy that week was and how terrified I was of losing her. After all, it seems much more probable for someone to die from pneumonia than nothing at all. </div><div><br></div><div>She was on oxygen and iv antibiotics. We slept together one bed which was sweet at first since we aren't a cosleeping family. But, as she slowly got better, it got harder to keep her entertained and to drift off to sleep. She ate her weight in crackers. Learned how to make the bed go up and down. Got numerous new toys (thank you everyone). Gave me forty kisses before falling asleep... She really did so well for being strapped down in a bed for so long. I was very proud of her. </div><div><br></div><div>We were so blessed and had some great nurses. My good friend was one of our nurses for half of our stay. She's a Godsend. Really. And the other, was so funny and been on the peds floor for a very long time. I briefly knew her as well. We were so lucky to have them and our favorite pediatrician to help us (mainly me) through such a hard time and help LJ get better. </div><div><br></div><div>She's continuing to do very well. And seems to feel much better. I'm praying she will be able to keep bugs away for awhile. She's such a joy. She's so happy and I'm so, SO thankful she's still here in my arms. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1uvmIn9jS1pEb-84Zjd69CX_iGS-ycDwGWIcNOft6Ymm4CiGbmg_wqd35UtmryJzPrQCcBPLiGT5-K2SDCVX4BW0sq_tVmhgyJVDRl2HL3jj0jtRGYNO-daREDNoTAAehbXXtnzU6jfCm/s640/blogger-image--8059934.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1uvmIn9jS1pEb-84Zjd69CX_iGS-ycDwGWIcNOft6Ymm4CiGbmg_wqd35UtmryJzPrQCcBPLiGT5-K2SDCVX4BW0sq_tVmhgyJVDRl2HL3jj0jtRGYNO-daREDNoTAAehbXXtnzU6jfCm/s640/blogger-image--8059934.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiDAvKLsjMlg7v2TWnjQJ5OSkgMrAXYzZclGO_7h6OnKzWWrCgEpusbHZ91mOyx86-4y9uO15RTjmsF7tEh0kRcZpymYJJIbf7NWjiEKtjfdLb5Vdt0941Lu1EgpZpBsRn5VQgRm8kyKo3/s640/blogger-image--1040576819.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiDAvKLsjMlg7v2TWnjQJ5OSkgMrAXYzZclGO_7h6OnKzWWrCgEpusbHZ91mOyx86-4y9uO15RTjmsF7tEh0kRcZpymYJJIbf7NWjiEKtjfdLb5Vdt0941Lu1EgpZpBsRn5VQgRm8kyKo3/s640/blogger-image--1040576819.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0kPjtTh1M2xDTqM4LFfJNaPC0L9MrRZTlxvrK43HJKgC2fDtRtKvbvE79RgC43rETUQ3UDRIMK-40BKjRdHPe6XZUwxg_9wLczoctCIa2uAaaFCRnBrEOPhWqpvXngLzOboSwJqHwYF_A/s640/blogger-image-1501981056.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0kPjtTh1M2xDTqM4LFfJNaPC0L9MrRZTlxvrK43HJKgC2fDtRtKvbvE79RgC43rETUQ3UDRIMK-40BKjRdHPe6XZUwxg_9wLczoctCIa2uAaaFCRnBrEOPhWqpvXngLzOboSwJqHwYF_A/s640/blogger-image-1501981056.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR85qBjASajpTzuBrmj9YsrBRkT3mRux6LVBOLSR6fhIWp0PGxZGvpW5FjWw-H3Z1YPAR9onG1rlGJwO_2Rnb6T4Ri61-ITmvINm1ONOMVk4hG-Az6wnyfBPo8worN8NN0L88rDXccQs_l/s640/blogger-image-644349455.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR85qBjASajpTzuBrmj9YsrBRkT3mRux6LVBOLSR6fhIWp0PGxZGvpW5FjWw-H3Z1YPAR9onG1rlGJwO_2Rnb6T4Ri61-ITmvINm1ONOMVk4hG-Az6wnyfBPo8worN8NN0L88rDXccQs_l/s640/blogger-image-644349455.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1GFIC23JlS7pdlx5QKpn9vY_QgJbLkG23eCbYpy8OMEJi7DEo358NzbGwJUc658IY1CfbC6Wt1tHkBtPKixItz0F6Fg57REBRL6s4MgZ3_ZbrBETt0sGGRW4vBmsW17c7sLvGpOPhzZcD/s640/blogger-image-888280556.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1GFIC23JlS7pdlx5QKpn9vY_QgJbLkG23eCbYpy8OMEJi7DEo358NzbGwJUc658IY1CfbC6Wt1tHkBtPKixItz0F6Fg57REBRL6s4MgZ3_ZbrBETt0sGGRW4vBmsW17c7sLvGpOPhzZcD/s640/blogger-image-888280556.jpg"></a></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227654669239291715.post-48034714541433772202014-07-20T22:32:00.001-07:002014-07-20T22:32:02.608-07:00Two YearsJovi Sloan, <div><br></div><div>How has it been two years since I've held</div><div>you? How has it been two years since I've snuggled you? How has it been two years since I've kissed your sweet cheeks or ran my fingers through your chimpanzee hair? </div><div><br></div><div>It seems like yesterday that you were here and, at the same time, seems like eons that I've held you. I don't understand time and still struggle with the fact that time continues to move forward even though you are no longer here. </div><div><br></div><div>I think of you so much during the day and I don't get how it's no longer "just yesterday" that you died. </div><div><br></div><div>I will never forget you. </div><div><br></div><div>I will continue to keep your name and memory alive in our home. </div><div><br></div><div>I will forever strive to be better because of you. </div><div><br></div><div>I will continue to dream of the day we are reunited and get to live together FOREVER as a family. </div><div><br></div><div>I'm so blessed to be your mommy. You continue to inspire and change lives even though you don't even live on this earth. </div><div><br></div><div>You. Are. Remarkable. </div><div><br></div><div>You. Are. So. Loved. </div><div><br></div><div>You. Are. So. Very. Missed. </div><div><br></div><div>I love you all the way to Heaven and back. </div><div><br></div><div>Love, </div><div>Mommy</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtVsp0TpqgZbexGC89361VDPB67ulKCY0yi28Fc7omfCgIVRwnlbjiyPnOArXjZC290bP4DCAGyRYCLX0uy3f4hvZBdBzM8N3WRUxIrI3ZoBP98esf_Q7WKhGJ12keai_eXKrx_qj6723n/s640/blogger-image-2086300731.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtVsp0TpqgZbexGC89361VDPB67ulKCY0yi28Fc7omfCgIVRwnlbjiyPnOArXjZC290bP4DCAGyRYCLX0uy3f4hvZBdBzM8N3WRUxIrI3ZoBP98esf_Q7WKhGJ12keai_eXKrx_qj6723n/s640/blogger-image-2086300731.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu0gFMdvnYbjcugr2q5vm9i1dzfTKxvyg_y0csWUvXqwK-2XOvZT_3vYFm_C6e9oMThUUzu6ZsGbxSofejDW3SAhDdHdr9EzCdqmFQsctrANlKDZ0RL_VihCwg17lC98B_pD9SH2qW2m_c/s640/blogger-image--548265893.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu0gFMdvnYbjcugr2q5vm9i1dzfTKxvyg_y0csWUvXqwK-2XOvZT_3vYFm_C6e9oMThUUzu6ZsGbxSofejDW3SAhDdHdr9EzCdqmFQsctrANlKDZ0RL_VihCwg17lC98B_pD9SH2qW2m_c/s640/blogger-image--548265893.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGLzQOv9_hqFfX95YIAEaNAUtjN-NAHTStNPjahWn-MoXVzOKQQcDRdQvmP6eJQ0hcjGi7GX_gVe-cJuEoe-owNUWmOqfNEG4MEpxtAuKubDJZUgxGnQ_6kFmrQhWCphdTIpPqeHnl3wws/s640/blogger-image--1367458335.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGLzQOv9_hqFfX95YIAEaNAUtjN-NAHTStNPjahWn-MoXVzOKQQcDRdQvmP6eJQ0hcjGi7GX_gVe-cJuEoe-owNUWmOqfNEG4MEpxtAuKubDJZUgxGnQ_6kFmrQhWCphdTIpPqeHnl3wws/s640/blogger-image--1367458335.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We went to visit you on your 2 years in Heaven date. Cash misses you so very much. He still talks about you. Lila has to have a connection with you. We have a picture of you that she can reach and she likes to carry you all over the house. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Have I told you that you are missed and you are so loved?</div><br></div><br></div><br></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227654669239291715.post-70884107789901810372014-06-20T16:22:00.001-07:002014-06-20T16:31:08.709-07:00BiggerI've struggled so much with the saying "Everything happens for a reason". Or "God took your baby because He needed another angel". Really anything that blames God for taking my baby. <div><br></div><div>When Jovi died, I was inundated with scriptures. Scriptures that said only good would happen to me if I followed Christ. Wait, wasn't I following Him? Didn't my baby just die? Or that the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh. Or there is a season for everything. So, there is a season for my baby dying? I didn't get it. None of it made sense. People gave me these scriptures thinking they'd make me feel so much better about Jovi's death. They didn't. </div><div><br></div><div>I've recently been thinking more about this. Thinking about God and where He is in all of this. And I have drawn my own conclusions about God and His love for me. </div><div><br></div><div>Christ loves me. He <i>loves</i> me. He <i>loves</i> me in a way I could never imagine. I look at the way I love my own children and God loves me even more than that. It boggles my mind, really. The love He has for me is out of this world. The mercy He has for me is indescribable. The forgiveness He has for me is incredible. So, this loving God, one who loves me in a way that's even more than the way I love my very own babies, He took my baby from me? I don't think so. And I can't think so. </div><div><br></div><div>The way I see it, no matter what my child did, I would love him/her. My children are disciplined. They have punishments. But, despite any terrible, horrible thing they did, I couldn't/wouldn't ever punish them</div><div>in the way of taking their baby. I wouldn't beat them. I wouldn't drag them down. I wouldn't want to ever cause them intense, heartbreaking, horrendous grief. Grief and heartbreak that would follow them their entire lives. I wouldn't. And God loves me more than that. </div><div><br></div><div>I don't believe Jovi was taken to teach me a lesson. I don't believe Jovi was taken to teach someone else or one million someone else's a lesson. I believe that Jovi died because we live in a messed up world. We live in a cruel world where some really horrible crap happens. Life is so unfair. And I believe she died simply because of the messed up, cruel world we live in. </div><div><br></div><div>But, I do believe that my God is bigger than the messed up, cruel, and horribleness this world can have. My life turned black and white when Jovi died. It had no color. And God brought color to my black and white. He is bigger than death. My God is good. My God is loving. My God is kind and gentle. He's peace. He brought good out of something so awful because He is better and bigger than this life. He was able to take something so horrendous and make good things come out of it. </div><div><br></div><div>God didn't take my baby. He didn't cause my heart to break. He didn't turn my life upside down. He brought me color. He brought me joy where I never thought I'd see it again. He brought me good. </div><div><br></div><div>God is good. </div><div><br></div><div>God is love.</div><div><br></div><div> God is gentle.</div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">God never promised it'd be easy, but He did promise He'd always be there. Things can happen for no reason at all, but He has the power to bring color to your black and white. He is bigger than death and bigger than this world. He will always let His light shine through. And for that light, I'm more thankful than I could ever say. </span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2