Parties in Heaven

I'm sitting here with Cole behind me on the chair, squished into the little spot between me and the back of the chair. He is still in his halloween costume and trying to talk me into more candy, the day was full of fun and joy. I hope there are holidays in Heaven, times like the joy of being a little boy on Halloween, I hope that Logen had a good Halloween.

Psalms 38: 8

I am feeble and sore broken....


What do I cling to if my grief is gone?


Psalms 147: 3

He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds.


I just need to trust Him

thoughts and feelings

My grief has been my emotional tie to Logen for so long (at least on my side of the veil) that now that it is mostly gone I feel a little like a boat without an anchor, what ties me to him now? I find myself searching for an emotional connection that is as strong as the grief was. My love is there but it is a little more intangible than my grief. My grief was physical and I had physical reactions to thinking about Logen that aren't there anymore. I'm am grateful for the peace after hurting for so long, but I feel a little adrift and unsure how to keep an emotional connection to him. I still don't ever want to foret anything, not even a minute.

I am finally at a point that I want to Journal a lot of my experiences in getting through the grief of losing Logen. It is strange, I wanted to before now, but it was too painful emotionally, and now that I'm not in that place anymore it's hard to sit down and take myself back to that place. But I still want to write it all down, so nothing get's forgotten.

I still have a lot of little things that hit me here and there, recently I was thinking how badly I want to raise Logen and my thinking has been focused on getting back to Logen, and the thought came to my mind that I needed to focus on getting back to my Savior, because that is where Logen is. That my focus needs to readjust from just earning the right to be Logen's mom in the next life, to earning the right to be in my Saviors presence, because that is where Logen is. I already knew this, but my focus has been on Logen, not my Savior, and the impression came that everytime I make a choice that takes me further from my Savior, it causes Logen pain, because it separates him from his Mom, and he want's to be with me as much as I want to be with him, but he has an absolute love for his Savior and the only choice is for me to work to be worthy enough to be in the presence of my Savior. I have a lot of work to do. But it was a peaceful and reassuring feeling. I know my Savior loves me too, and wants to be able to give me back Logen on ressurection day.

On sunday at church I was walking down the hall carrying Cole and we passed a picture of Joseph Smith and the first vision, and all morning Cole had been pointing out Jesus in all of the paintings, but when we passed this one he pointed Heavenly Father and Jesus and said "Logen lives with them, in the pretty light". He just always catches me off guard. I know he recently told me that Logen can't come play anymore, and since then has been a lot more cuddly, carrying around comfort toys and blankets and he has mentioned a lot since then that Logen has to stay in Heaven. I can't say that he is sad or crying, he seems to have a better understanding and peace with the whole situation than I do, but I have to say, he is missing his brother right now.

October 15th is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day in the US.

http://october15th.com/


This was written by a Mom who lost her son's to TTTS, it is so true.

Lessons in Life

Contributed by Amy Rocka in loving memory of
Clark Daniel and Jake Matthew Rocka 5/28/06 (21 weeks)

I've learned that you can keep going long after you think you can't.
I've learned that learning to forgive takes a lot of practice.
I've learned that friends can become strangers, and strangers can become friends.
I've learned that ignorance isn't an excuse for the lack of compassion.
I've learned that some people will never, ever - "get it".
I've learned that the community of sorrow is the strongest of all.
I've learned that no matter how bad your heart is broken the world doesn't stop for your grief.
I've learned that your life can be changed in a matter of minutes.
I've learned that the people you care most about in life are taken from you too soon.
I've learned that you should always leave loved ones with loving words. It may be the last time you see them.
I've learned that love isn't measured by the amount of time you have with someone.
I've learned that some sorrow is so deep that it has no words. But so is love.

Memories

Isn't it funny how smells and sounds trigger memories. I was leaning against the desk at the nurses station and someone brought a vase of beautiful cut flowers to the desk and with the first breath in the scent had me back in the floral shop, looking at books, trying to pick out a spray for Logen's casket, picking out an arrangment of flowers from the kids for their brother, looking at shades and colors and smelling that smell, the cut flower smell of a floral shop, that I will forever connect to picking out flowers for Logen. I hope someday that the smell won't bother me so bad. I know when I first started working in the PACU down here that in the evenings one of the nurses would put on quiet music for the patients and within minutes I would feel agitated and weepy and after awhile I would sneek over and turn it off, it took me months to figure out that it created the same kind of atmosphere that was at the mortuary!! I still can't stand it, even after 3 years.

3 years later

3 years later and I am still thinking of him, I guess it will never stop and if I'm honest I don't want to ever quit remembering, he was too important. I have to think hard to remember the weight of holding his tiny little body next to my chest, in my hands, over my heart. If think and focus it is right there, I can almost smell that new baby smell and hear the little grunts and cries that he made. I am afraid of forgetting, but remembering is not a conditional thing, I can't forget the ache in my heart as they handed him back through that small window in the NICU after telling us he wouldn't make it and what did we want to do. We asked to have him back so we could hold him. I was still on the operating table, the doctor's still working on me when they handed me this small bundle wrapped in a hospital blanket, scratchy and clean, and wrapped around his tender, fragile skin. He wasn't even crying. All I could do was kiss him and touch him and talk to him about how brave I thought he was, how much I loved him and how amazed I was by him, how hard he had to work to even get here and try to reassure him that I loved him, his family loved him and try so hard to let him begin the process of returning to Heavenly Father, where he wouldn't hurt, wouldn't suffer, wouldn't have to try so hard to just get here anymore. I remember telling him how proud I was of him for trying so hard to get here. I also remember the doctor touching my shoulder and telling me he was so sorry and that he would go check on Cole. Chad had the camera going through most of that and he turned it off in order to hold Logen too. Both of us aware that time that had been so slow through the long months of pregnancy was now rushing past us, too fast, the moment when we had to let(not let, but accept that)this sweet little son of ours would return to Heaven, was coming too fast, and inspite of all the many months and battles to get him here, this last battle was already over, we would not be taking our son home to raise. Even now, three years later I can't begin to put the feelings into words. That kind of heartache is difficult to describe. 3 years later, the echo's of that heartache are still in me, but I have learned that it is survivable if I will just get up everyday and keep on. I love the life I have but I truly look forward to the day when I am handed back my son with a promise of being able to raise him.