August 3, 2007....

It was a year ago today that Nathan was born still, and it's been a difficult but sweet day. Really though, this whole summer has been like that -- very hard. I'll be sitting by the pool, watching the kids swimming, and I'll suddenly feel like I'm reliving a moment from last summer. The sights and sounds, my iced tea, the feel of the water spray and the sweat running down the back of my neck -- all take me back. I look down and remember my big pregnant belly and what it felt like to be blissfully unaware, still looking forward in excited anticipation, not having any idea it was all about to come crashing down around me.

I'm sure each mom does things differently to honor (and just to *survive*) the anniversary of her baby's/child's death. What means so much to one mom might not mean as much to another. I can only share what is helping me, and I am just starting out on a lifelong journey.

When Nathan died, I felt compelled, instinctively, to make memories for my other kids. So throughout my 29 hours in the hospital with Nathan, as the nurses monitored my recovery, I had my older girls taking pictures. We took his footprint and cut a piece of his hair. I wrapped him in a special blanket that I'd crocheted for him. I dressed him in two separate outfits on those two days (and then we bought him a special one for his burial). This week, I put out all those things (and more) for my kids to handle, to feel, to snuggle, to remember.

After the funeral, I spent the rest of August doing Nathan's scrapbook. I just worked on it every day at the kitchen table. I didn't really do anything *except* this -- it was my way of getting through that awful time. I read several books, (especially MacArthur's _Safe in His Arms_), searching for comfort, for reason, for something to write in the scrapbook. I cried. And I cried some more. Then I cut and arranged and wrote out my heart. It was my therapy.

I know my children saw how important Nathan is (and in turn, *they* are...) to me. I was so blessed that I had the freedom and ability to work uninterrupted for the most part. My older girls were wonderful in handling the younger kids because I just couldn't at that time. Also, I didn't have to worry about meals since the local homeschool moms took it on themselves to provide for us for a full month. They still have no idea how much that helped me. Doing Nathan's scrapbook was how I **grieved** and how I healed, too.

The scrapbook has played a huge role for my whole family in remembering Nathan this week. I brought out the scrapbook from my room several days ago and put it where everyone could have a chance to look through it again. The book is filled with pictures of the kids holding Nathan, with my journaling of what Nathan meant to us, and with special verses and songs and poems that have really helped me. The kids all love it, and I will make sure to bring it out every year during this first week of August.

When I was in the hospital with Nathan, Caiti (my oldest daughter) brought Nathan a little stuffed elephant. It is in Nathan's picture that I have here on my blog, and it sits next to that same framed picture in my front room now. At Christmas-time, Megan (my almost 5yo dd) gave Nathan her own stuffed elephant, too, and this week I found a small cute painted elephant that I took to Nathan's gravesite. The elephant has become a little mascot for my boy, and I have a feeling I will be on the lookout for these animals from now on.... Perhaps each year on Nathan's anniversary, I will add one to his collection.

This week I also found a little porcelain teddy bear "Mama" with angel wings. She's sitting down and a beautiful little toddler boy is kneeling against her lap. For some reason, this figurine spoke to my Mama's heart. I bought two of them -- and I put one at the cemetery, and the other is now sitting on my fireplace mantel next to a picture of Nathan.

I actually spent a lot of time at Nathan's grave this week. I've been going there regularly all year -- once a week at least, often more. I don't consider it morbid. I gain a sense of peace and equilibrium from spending 30 minutes to an hour trimming the grass around all the pinwheels and silk flowers I have "planted" there. I usually listen to some special songs on my CDs on the drive to the cemetery (such as "Homesick"), and I spend some time praying out loud, just telling God my feelings without having to worry that what I'm saying might shock Him or upset HIm. I know He can handle it -- thankfully! This routine has really helped me get through this year in one piece.

As July drew to a close, and I knew the anniversary was approaching, I realized I wanted to mark the day as being significant to our family (because it really is), and yet I didn't want to drag anyone down into depression. (Having teenage girls, I do try to be aware of their hormonal tendencies...). At Nathan's funeral, each of the kids released a colorful helium balloon to "fly" up to Nathan, as I thought this would help the little ones (Megan really, as Audrey is too young) to understand better where Nathan is right now. It seemed to work very well last summer, so I thought we'd do it again today as a sort of tradition. So we did -- from 21yo Caiti down to 2yo Audrey, and they all laughed and pointed and tried to keep track of those balloons racing all the way up to Nathan in heaven.

In the 3 & 4yo SS class I teach, Megan told everyone that today is her brother Nathan's birthday but that he died and he lives in heaven now. She is very aware of when Nathan's birthday is because hers is just 12 days after it, and she is quite happy that they share the same birthstone (peridot). The children this morning asked all about Nathan, and they were very impressed that he gets to live with Jesus already. It was very sweet.

My oldest daughter brought me some beautiful flowers today along with a little wooden bird, painted a dusky green, with the word "Love" written at the base. She just wanted me to know how much she cares.

It hasn't all been light and pretty though.

I have spent hours this week just groaning those guttural cries that we make when there simply are no words. But overall, for me, it works best to regularly unburden my soul cries to the Lord. Otherwise I risk falling back into that scary pit of depression that still threatens to overwhelm me at times.

A month ago, while I was working on the flowers at Nathan's grave, I saw a small family come and sit by a new grave for a while. A young girl ran around the grounds, the father stood off silent and alone, and the mother sank down to the grass in what looked like desperation. I had a strong feeling that she had just lost a baby. After they left, I went to see -- and yes, their baby boy was born still, too. Yesterday I took a bouquet of yellow roses, tied with Nathan's signature white ribbon w/ the pastel baby footprints, and planted it off to the side at their little boy's grave.

Today, the mom had moved the yellow roses into the center with her own flowers. I think she knows where they came from and hope she understands I am praying for her. Maybe Nathan is even now playing in heaven with their Casyn.


Kim