Perry's second birthday

I guess what has surprised me most about this second year was that I expected it to be easier in many ways. Sometimes it is, but in many ways it all still comes crashing down. I have this desperate need to get away again after Perry's birthday, but am still here. The second year is sort of more of the first with the exception that you know what to expect and more of your triggers, so you can avoid them or know how to handle things a bit better. You don't expect as much out of yourself, although perhaps others do.

So this year after Perry's birthday passed again, I was thinking about birthday gifts for him. We went to target for something else and ran across this again:






This time I bought it. Many Moms will buy gifts for other babies in memory of their little one.(I decided it was fine to be less noble and buy it for my own son since I'd already spent a lot of effort donating sleep sacks again this year- its ok to do things just for my family as well. I wanted to see it used in our house). It occurred to me that if Perry were here he and Emily would have loved this one by now. I decided I could buy it for Paiden's Christmas, but as I write Emily is desperately bartering to get me to let her play with it... "I would really like it- to have one of those...". So we'll see what happens. But I still wish Perry were here to play with it.

One new trigger we've found is that Paiden is beginning to roll over. Chris hates and fears it- I try to remember that as much as we'd like him to skip this milestone it is just that- a milestone that all babies have to go through to progress. The bad thing for me is that he knocks off his blinky (snuza motion detector), and so my crutch is not working at night.

Last night he rolled over for the first time in the crib. Chris put him on his back and I heard him pleading with Paiden to stay put. But he continued rolling over and knocking off his snuza at least 6 times until it was finally taken off of him. Then I stayed awake listening for every breath until Chris and Paiden woke up.

During the day it is so so now. I put it on for a trip to the YMCA nursery and it went off before we left the house. I knew he was ok as he was giving me a big gummy grin- but I suspect he has figured out how to make it go off by holding his breath. He seemed especially pleased. I've heard of babies learning to pull sensors off the corded ones, so perhaps this is not as far fetched as it sounds.

I've ordered an angelcare under the mattress sensor for night, hoping it comes in soon. We'll see if he figures this one out as well, but I'm hoping it will work for his bedtime anyway.

Preparing for Perry's Birthday, the power of a name

I once wrote that the horrible thing about Perry's autopsy papers was that it was one of the last official places where his name would be written. And I hated that one of the last times I would see his name would be that way. While it may seem like a small thing, a written name is part of the huge loss you experience when you lose a child. It is taboo to mention them, and even rarer for another person to actually type it as if it will summon death to them to.

But to a woman who has lost their child that name means mornings watching sunbeams, hands tangling in hair, the milky smell of a newborn held to their chest for the first time. It is love and innocence. Eyes that captured a smiling soul.

I placed a request on my facebook page. I was not original, I stold it from other Moms. I wanted pictures of Perry's name. It gives back new pictures that are his alone, and coaxes warm memories from a clouded mind.

And it is wonderful.

Here are just a few:


This one I did. Every little boy goes through a firefighter stage, and if he were here he would have climbed on this ladder truck by now, wearing a small red plastic kid's fire helmet. We would have taken pictures with me holding them, with that pride in my eye that for one moment in his life I was what every parent wants to be- a hero in their child's eyes.


This one is from Aunt Elaine. She often buys ornaments for the new babies. I cry because Christmas is one of the days when I miss him the most- the memories that should be. I'd already bought him a few Christmas gifts, a monster hat and mittens that he may pass down to Paiden. He was such an easygoing personality, I don't think he would mind a bit. This is (I suspect) from her Christmas tree.

This one is from Zotti. Fenway. If you have read my blog you would know that Perry Bryce was named after his Grandpa Bryce. Grandpa loved baseball. Mom and I watched an old film of him running bases while I held Perry. We both hoped that he might like the game too and carry something forward from Grandpa.


Some from Beaches- How often I write his name when I am off by myself in the sand on vacation, just to see it again.




In toys and chalk. He would scrawl his own name one day. Others do it for him. In toys that little boys love. As much as I hate stepping on small pieces, I wish I would more often, because he should be at the age of toddler legos and cars.

There are many more (I wish I had the space!!!), and hopefully some I haven't seen yet as we still have a couple days. Thank you gentle friends for giving me back my son's name. You are adding back a little of the sparkle to his birthday.  I am blessed.

Grabbing Joy in the Moment

I guess one of the biggest lessons I have learned is that sometimes you have to grab joy in the moment. What I mean by that is sometimes you simply have to live right now- not in the sense as many take it overindulging in their favorite vice, but simply breathing and enjoying what is right in front of you.

So today as I held Paiden I kissed his checks, soft and rough at the same time. I inhaled his milky scent and felt the fine baby hair tickle my nose. And I was happy.

I was happy when I held Emily. I was blessed to hold Perry. And now I hold Paiden and try to let contentment wash over me like a gentle wave. I will be happy in this moment and I will not let darkness drift over it. I will not let sadness place a black stain over my entire life. It may impossible to always hold it at bay, but I chose to stand my ground right now.

I have come to the realization that if I place this moment in the basket with the rest of my life, it will always be lacking. My life will always lack Perry. Sometimes the only way that I can find happiness is to take the present out and hold it up to the light by itself. I study the details sparkling in the sunbeam and enjoy each color that plays in the facets.

If I connect it to the past I have only tears, and if I connect it to the future I have only worry because I know nothing is guaranteed in this lifespan. While many do not live with as dark a past or perhaps do not have worry clouding their future, some of us do. And we have to relearn to live in the now as a child, or quite frankly, there's no joy left to us anymore.

I know I am blessed. The other day Emily, Mom, and I all found four leaf clovers (after telling Emily that the only person who regularly find them them is Lt. Hood). Mine was the only one with a mangled leaf, but it didn't change what it was. It felt oddly appropriate to me- maybe not perfect, but I got to and still do hold something that many other people may never find or overlook in a rush.

Here are a few verses I took ownership of shortly after Perry's death when the world became a terrifying place for me:

Matthew 6:27-29
Can all your worries add a single moment to your life? And why worry about your clothing? Look at the lilies of the field and how they grow. They don't work or make their clothing, yet Solomon in all his glory was not dressed as beautifully as they are.

Matthew 6:34  “Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.

Matthew 11:28-30  Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.“

Luke 12:25 And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his  span of life?

John 14:27 Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you.Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.

Leaving for the first time and other updates

As expected, life with Paiden has been a blessing but a trigger as well.

Paiden is definitely his own little man. He is more assertive and looks more like his sister than his big brother. To us, the assertiveness while it translates into a bit more crying, is a relief. I think he would make a loud protest if in a difficult situation. I worry that Perry, being laid back, didn't cry to let Chris know he needed help.

It is sad in a way that he is so used to being poked and touched to check to make sure everything is ok that he simply goes back to sleep. To assume something is wrong rather than that the baby is simply sleeping is our new normal. His big sister is also used to being a watcher. Now when traveling in the back of the Explorer with Paiden, she checks for breathing automatically and reports on her own.

But a new baby brings first smiles, almost giggles, and excitement at simple progress like beginning to play with toys by batting and grabbing. In this way he triggers memories of Perry and Emily doing the same thing and has helped us disassociate the good memories of Perry from the bad. It is nice sometimes to remember Perry happy and not cry automatically.

We also find ourselves trying to make sure we hurry up to do things we regret not doing with Perry. Paiden now is the proud owner of a passport, complete with the world's cutest passport photo. We hated getting into the important documents folder, the death certificate and autopsy has tainted what was once a fun area of the safe. But we filled out the paperwork and were rewarded with one of Paiden's first full blown toothless grins in a diamond sweater handed down from his big brother. The photographer captured it, and we hope that this photo will accompany us on many family adventures.

I think perhaps the worst trigger I have recently faced was going back to work. I cried. I held Paiden longer than necessary, afraid it would be the last time I saw him as I placed him grudgingly in his crib. Big tears fell at work and I wasn't sure whether I felt relief or regret at passing the combat test to get back on shift. I didn't sleep much during the nights and felt an exquisite joy as my muscles relaxed when I heard that he was still there in the morning.

My Mom stayed overnight with Chris so he wouldn't be alone and we fumbled through somehow. I am hoping this feeling of fear will gradually fade. I understand why many parents change jobs after facing a loss, but I also remember the support I was given after Perry's loss. I have been blessed by them.

Life as a mom to a newborn after loss is a different ball of wax than before. Before I was grateful that they were here and just assumed that if I installed outlet covers and cabinet locks, made them wear helmets on bikes and use car seats all would be well. Now when I watch my son and daughter breath as they sleep I am simply happy that they are, in this moment, here now.

I don't assume.

Sometimes fear still strikes a month after my son Paiden's birth. He slept for four hours the night before and I woke up terrified. I had a moment where I thought I hadn't turned on his monitor and he had died. Across the room 'his blinker' flashed green and red and I felt an exquisite sense of relief.

In some ways he is worse than the children of others for fear inducing moments, because he is mine and I fear his loss with an intensity that you have to have been where I have to understand. That moment before his shirt shifts with his breathing is terrifying.

There are other reminders too at times that my life has not be normal these past couple of years. I took Emily and Paiden to the mall for pictures with the Easter bunny. I took a toy of Perry's as his place holder and was fairly happy with the set up, even though Paiden had decided he was quite happy sleeping and the Easter bunny would simply have to hold him patiently. The scene in reality made me feel a little contentment, as I felt that one day I will see them all together with God's grace and there would be a little boy or a man there in place of a rubber teething toy. The scene on paper however was a differet matter. The colors were washed out for some reason (perhaps they were seeking a 'soft' pastel look for Easter?). Paiden looks a lot like Perry at times and while intellectually I like the picture, at a gut level it unsettles me. Paiden looks too pale.

The other reminder was a simple guilt sell. My MIL had bought pictures from Walmart of Emily and Paiden. I didn't really want to buy additional photos from them because I had taken some really nice ones with Ms. Merri. Walmart included extra pictures for a reduced amount that they would 'throw away' if I didn't want them. I had a moment where I wanted to explain that this was a low down tactic, because after losing a child you simply can't throw away pictures, even if they aren't 'good' ones and you didn't really want to buy them... because in your mind you know you deleted or refused 'bad' pictures of your lost child and you are afraid that by refusing you are making this same mistake.

But in the end I didn't. The store was closing permanently, this woman had been notified a couple days ago while she was on vacation that the 'studio' was closing, and I didn't want to drop an emotional bomb on her- although really someone knows that they are jerking heart strings with this sales tactic even if not to the true extent.

Hello from Perry

Sometimes I still pray for signs that Perry is ok. I did this a few days ago around my Daughter's birthday. When we came home from her party, we had about 18 balloons and a 5 year candle. She and Dad lit the candle in Perry's lantern because they wanted to share her birthday with him. When Emily came home she decided that she wanted to release all of her balloons for Perry. We watched them float into the sky. There was a storm that night and when I woke up, I peeked out the back door to survey the damage.

And there on the small peach tree outside our house was a single balloon, the color of the baloons we released the other day. I showed Emily and Chris the balloon and when Emily asked where it came from, I told her that Perry gave one balloon back and that it was a 'hello from Perry'.

My Phoenix

From wikipedia:

In Greek mythology, a phoenix or phenix (Ancient Greek φοίνιξ phóinīx) is a long-lived bird that is cyclically regenerated or reborn. Associated with the sun, a phoenix obtains new life by arising from the ashes of its predecessor. The phoenix was subsequently adopted as a symbol in Early Christianity. The phoenix is referenced in modern popular culture.

In his study of the phoenix, R. van der Broek summarizes, that, in the historical record, the phoenix "could symbolize renewal in general as well as the sun, Time, the Empire, metempsychosis, consecration, resurrection, life in the heavenly Paradise, Christ, Mary, virginity, the exceptional man, and certain aspects of Christian life".^[1]

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At 7:00 am Chris and I headed in to work. Chris thought something was up because at about 9pm the night before I was tidying up. Chris lit an extra large candle that night for Perry, still thinking of and taking care of him in our own way. By the time we got into Nashville at around 8pm, we detoured to Vanderbilt. This time the front staff at triage put me immediately into a room. I was at 7, placed on a monitor. The anesthiologist came in. By the end of his talk I could already feel pressure and I sent Chris out to get the nurse practioneer. They were already headed in to tell me the good news that I could finally go off the monitor. About 30 minutes later (after begging them to help me and various other assorted words I can vaguely remember) Paiden was born at 9:31 am. I have to admit that I am glad that I was planning on going 'natural' anyway, because I think if I had been planning otherwise, I might have panicked quite a bit more. The rapidness reminded me of Perry's birth, and I was very glad that we had started carpooling together that week. I think I would have been stuck on the interstate calling 911 otherwise.

I guess you might remember all of my nightmares? Well everyone was very careful with us, as if they sensed the tension. The one exception was the nursing student. As Paiden arrived, I heard her exclaim "look at the knot in the cord!". I heard the nurse midwife tell her that we didn't need any additional stress and she quickly explained to my husband that it was still lose and inserted a finger to show him. I wondered at that moment if that knot was the bull in my dreams, and imagined some divine finger keeping it from tightening. In any case, I am glad that we didn't know earlier as everything turned out well and I can only imagine the level of stress I'd have felt. But that little knot reminded me how fragile life is, it seemed to whisper that I'd been gifted with another child and not to take him for granted.

I guess it was natural for us to compare Paiden to Emily and Perry at birth. He was a large 10 lbs 1 oz, the biggest of all. His eyes were slits, the same as his siblings. His cheeks seemed puffier, but the hair was that same dark brown almost black. His hair was thick like Emily's. At times Emily and Perry seemed to swirl in Paiden's features, but his feet, small and compact instead of long and narrow, reminded me that he was his own being.

About an hour after his birth, I laid down to rest a bit and I felt a cold drop on my back. I looked up and there was nobody around me and the air vents were across the room. It reminded me of a tear. I felt the moisture with my hand and convinced myself I wasn't imaging it, but I still haven't decided what it was or what it meant. Far from being sad, I was at peace on Paiden's birthday.

When Paiden was taken from me, Chris followed. He was brought back in a sleepsack. The next week they were expecting the sleepsacks to come in to begin using them in the nursery. Paiden's group will be some of the last babies to only use receiving blankets. The nurses were kind enough to bring us one of demonstration sacks, and I can only imagine what Chris said or did that prompted this. But I was grateful for the thoughtfullness as this was the one thing I hadn't brought with us in the duffle bag.

After bathing him, we refused to let him be wrapped in a blanket instead of his sleepsack. I realized then that we were clinging to it so tightly because we firmly want to believe that if we do this simple thing, Paiden will be safe. Later, I found myself watching him and the clock as he slept, feeling relief everytime he cooed or grunted, and walking across the floor quietly to feel for warm breath from his nose if he hadn't made a noise in five minutes.

The next day, as I rocked him and watched the snow drift down outside the window, I heard the helicopters take off and land. It reminded me how similar and yet different he and his birth were from his brother. I thought about the irony of sitting in a maternity wing and hearing the life and death sounds of lifeflight. Perhaps the other patients did not think about it, but I did. I hoped that what was a good day for us was not the beginning of the rest of their lives 'without' for another set of parents. But I forced the thought away and just enjoyed him curled against me. This was not our bad day, and we needed our good day. It was ok, I told myself, to just enjoy it.

I am trying to take all the conflicting emotions surrounding a new baby in our house as they come. I try not to judge myself for how I feel, I just accept that they are normal for us. Sometimes I am scared when Paiden is asleep and then I try to cut myself slack. If other sleeping babies are hard, why shouldn't Paiden also be sometimes? But I love the fact that Paiden is the first baby I have held since Perry, there was no guilt, sadness, or anger there. Instead of being the first baby since Perry, it is the first time I held Paiden, if that makes sense. We have cried a lot the past few weeks, but we have also smiled. Emily gets to hold a new brother. I start to think in terms of the future again instead of just the past. While I can't decide which is better- past or present, I know my ideal would hold some of both. And that is truly a relief to me as I wondered at times if all of the best in life was already behind me. Perry's death is no longer the period that serves as a insumountable wall around my life. Is it still defining? Yes, but the frozen in time feeling has eased a bit. Some of the sharp bitterness remains, I don't think losing a child is something you ever get over. But there is life in the ashes.

Paiden is my phoenix.