Signs

I can't believe I am writing on the blog again this week!  It's a festivus miracle!

Today, Luke would have turned seven years old.  This time seven years ago, Tommy, my dad, and I were sitting across the table from a cardiologist.  We listened to him tell us about our boy's heart, what we could expect, and what he would and wouldn't be able to do in his life.  I felt like a zombie.  I had just given birth earlier in the day and was facing the nightmare of our child having HLHS.  

It was surreal.  

But Luke was real.

Today, we celebrated with our babies.  We ate (a lot), played games, had cake and released balloons.  We shared what we would like Luke to know, and talked about how much we miss him.  It was precious.  And beautiful.  Just like our Wittle Bubba.

Since we couldn't be in Houston to visit him, Luke had some special people visit him for us.  Nana went to the cemetery and brought a beautiful vase of daffodils.  They surely brightened up his spot.  Thank you, Nana.

My friend Amy also went to visit Luke with two of her boys.  Her visit is the reason I felt compelled to write tonight's post.

Amy called me this afternoon as we were driving to dinner.  She told me that she had read yesterday's post, and mentioned the part about my broken heart being similar to a broken ceramic plate:  the pieces never fit back together perfectly and there are always gaps.  Inside the gaps of my heart lies grief.  

Amy told me that someone must have left a ceramic angel figurine at Luke's site, but that it was broken, just like plate from the blog post.  She had never seen the angel, but said it looked like the angel's heart was missing.  This is what she saw:

Can you see the angel?  Can you see the broken piece of the heart in the top left piece?  {And that super cute army man?  Amy's boys left that for Luke.}  :)

So that's a bit crazy, right?  Why would there be a broken ceramic angel on Luke's stone?  Right away, I knew the angel and who it was from.  Each Christmas, my friend Cheryl takes her children to visit Luke and they place an ornament on the tree that Nana brings.  They send us our own matching ornament and we lovingly place it on our tree.  Here is the angel ornament that Cheryl placed on the tree (and also sent one to us):

Can you see the hearts on the angel's wings?  I believe that one of those hearts is the piece in the top left of Amy's picture.  Broken.

And what angel do we know who had a broken heart?

Luke.

So if the story stopped there, it would be a nice little coincidence:  a sweet angel ornament brought by a friend and found, broken, by another friend.  Just like the broken ceramic plate in my last post.

But the story doesn't stop there.  

I couldn't shake off a feeling that I had.  The sight of the broken angel really seemed to affect Amy.  She was so touched by the angel and I feel like she really felt Luke there.  ***{side note:  he also sent her rain--he always sends rain for Amy and fire ants for my sister Katie}***  

So I started to think back...Cheryl and her family sent us that angel for Christmas 2013.

Over a year ago.

I did some more "research" and found Cheryl's post from this past Christmas 2014.  Cheryl had sent a different ornament:  a beautiful cross.  And she sent this picture:

What is missing from this picture?  

The angel.

It's not there.  And tonight, when I asked Cheryl if she remembered seeing the angel ornament from the previous Christmas, she said "no".  

And I checked a picture that my sister Katie had sent in early December 2014:

Guess what's missing? 

The angel.

{but the ants are there}

The cemetery cleans the grave sites every few months (not sure of the exact times), and they throw away whatever they find.  

So...can anyone out there tell me why an angel ornament that was left for Luke over a year ago would be missing in pictures from December, but would be back (and broken) on his birthday, the day after I shared a post about my broken heart?

I prayed for the right words to use in my last post.  And they came to me.  

I prayed for a big sign from Luke, that he was with us.  And the broken angel ornament returned.  

Maybe I am loony.  Maybe I am romanticizing things to help me deal with my grief.

But I know one thing:  these pictures don't lie.  The ornament was not there in December.  And it was back today.  

I'm curious to know what others think about this post?  Do you believe that the broken angel (with the broken heart) was a sign from Luke or just a mere coincidence?

God bless everyone and thank you for the support you have given our family.

Another Year

Another year has passed. And it is time to wish our baby boy another "happy birthday".  It's supposed to get easier, but it's really not.  He is one of the first people I think of when I wake up and he never leaves my heart throughout the day. 

This year, I am having a really difficult time trying to find the words to explain how much I miss that boy.  How much I wish that he could be here to celebrate his seventh year.  How much I wish I could get a glimpse of what he would have looked like.

But I can't find them. 

The words are lost.  I feel like, each year, I say the same things:  we miss him, we will celebrate his life, we don't want him to be forgotten.  It's the same thing when I look at his pictures:  the same pictures year after year.  No new pictures are taken.  No sweet smiles for the camera.

This monotony is torture.  Nothing changes.  Our baby boy is still gone.  He will never grow up.  He will never have a birthday party.  His baby brother will never know him here on earth. 

And my heart is still broken.  Utterly broken without him here. 

I know that some of you think that the grief should be lessened, that I should move on. 

But I have moved on.  Just eleven months after Luke was born, we welcomed James into our family (and he was very, very planned).  We moved to Tennessee right after we lost Luke and to Georgia three years later.  I have stepped out of my comfort zone and tried new things.  I can talk about Luke to anyone without shedding a tear.  I went back to work as a preschool teacher, even after I had sworn that I would never return to the profession (my last year of teaching in Texas was while I was pregnant with Luke).  I try with all my might to share our story with those who are facing a similar situation.

BUT...that part of me that is utterly broken?  The same thing that was broken inside of his tiny body? 

My heart.

My heart will never be the same.

Have you ever dropped a plate and it broke?  Like into a million pieces? 

What happens when you try to glue that plate back together?  It's virtually impossible to glue each piece in it's correct place without having some gaps in the ceramic. 

That's my heart.  It was broken into a million pieces when we lost Luke.  Over the past seven years, I have tried with the strongest of glue to put those pieces back together.  Some pieces were big enough to fit together, but there are still so many gaps in the ceramic of my heart.  Those gaps can only be filled with Luke.  I will keep using that super glue and I will try to pick up the pieces, but...

There will always be gaps.

My heart will never be the same.

Because his heart was too broken for this world.

So on his birthday this year, we will celebrate.  We will remember.  We will grieve.

Because those gaps in my heart?  They are filled with grief.  And it's o.k. to grieve.

Our hearts are as fragile as a plate.  They are so easily broken.  And can never be fully repaired.  There will always be gaps.

I will leave you with a little note to Wittle Bubba...

Dear sweet boy,

Happy 7th birthday!  I remember the day well.  There were some very precious moments in that hospital room.  And some of the scariest moments of my life. 

I remember right after you were born, I looked at them cleaning you in the warmer, taking in every part of you:  your Daddy's nose, Grampa's ears, and Great Gramma's mouth.  How could we have guessed that a few hours later, they would tell us about your broken heart?  That they would take you from our arms and stick you with probes and needles?  That in a week, they would open your chest to put a "bandage" on your heart?  How could we have guessed?  And how could we have prevented the pain that you faced? 

Through it all, you were amazing.  Sweet, calm, strong.  A miracle.  Daddy and I are so very proud of you and who you became.  We didn't get to see you grow up, but you lived so much in those 5 1/2 weeks.  You are truly the strongest person I have ever known. 

Baby, I miss you so much.  But I was so very lucky.  I was blessed to carry an angel inside of me.  To feel you kick.  To have a relationship with you that no one else experienced.  I was given a gift that I will cherish forever.  And I am forever grateful for that gift. You are that gift.

I wonder who will celebrate with you today?  Pop-Pop?  Uncle Bob?  All of your great grandparents?  You heart friends in heaven?  I know it will be quite the celebration.  Your brothers and sister will send balloons for the party, so keep a lookout for them. 

I love you more than you could possibly know.  Please pray for your Mommy...and Daddy...and Em, Matt, and James.  It's really tough without you here. 

Love,
Your mommy