Thursday, October 20, 2011

shining moments (eli pt.1)

***I am not a fan of pt.1, pt.2, pt.3 blog posts, but the way my life is going right now it's that or nothing!  So pt. 1 of Eli. . . .

I want to capture all of these shining moments. . .

so much beauty and so many tears. . .

laughter that these walls haven't heard for so, so long;

deeper grief over the little man who completes our family circle. . . yet isn't here to share all of this joy.

more questions from our kids.


my heart thudding to a stop as I peek at my precious Eli, sleeping, my hand reaching out. . . and tears and limp relief to feel that warmth, that tiny beating pulse. Thank You, God. God, let him live.

Jacob, holding a pacifier up to his chest: "Hey, Mom, if I hold the fass-i-pier right *here* Eli seems to like it a lot better!"

Cambria: "So was he crying when he came out of your belly button?"

When I knew we had to leave for the hospital. . . I wasn't ready. . . wasn't prepared for the emotions. I hadn't been to Gabe's grave to tell my baby that he would still be my baby, that I wouldn't forget him. I'd planned to go on Friday; the irony of October 15 as Eli's induction date and the cemetery cleanup day wasn't lost on me. How strange and twisted life can be.

My heart - breaking to take away the little special things that mark one son's life here;

The same heart - singing to welcome the precious unborn son inside of me.

But it was Thursday.

I hadn't even packed the kids yet.

I was in the middle of painting a verse above Eli's bed.

And in the middle of chicken enchiladas.

And (using my friend Pam's Cricut) putting a huge READ sign in the upstairs hallway. I had the R up.

I hadn't colored my hair yet (pre-labor ritual for me) or packed myself, or burned our baby #4 playlist.

But sometimes babies don't wait for all of the checks to be marked in the boxes.

I called Daniel, and he came home to me distractedly tying up the loose ends of my multitasking.

"Why in the world are you making *chicken enchiladas* when you've called me home so that we can go to the hospital?!"

Well, I don't know, I guess it was all out on the counter and I didn't want it to spoil?   Side note: We ate them four days later. Worst enchiladas EVER.   I'm not sure how I ruined them in my distraction, but I did.

We left.

We stopped at our little man's grave.  

I stood there, looking at his tiny grave, at his beautiful name, Gabriel James, remembering his tiny first cries and the joy he brought to our lives. I would never forget him; yet as soon as I left I knew that my grief road would branch. . . Gabe would be a big brother.   He wouldn't be the baby.

I wept for how cruel and wrong the picture seemed.  I wept for the little man I would never hold again. . . here.

The kids left tiny pumpkins.

I blew kisses to him. 

Took a deep breath. . .

then we drove away.


  1. Have tears in my eyes reading this. God bless you, is all I can say.

  2. I've prayed for you so much over these past weeks...and continue to do so, as you enjoy the precious times with your new little one while remembering his big brother...

    And? I laughed because my girls, too, thought their little brother Daniel came out of my belly button. ;)

  3. Thinking about you, Hayley... I can so imagine what you are feeling right now. And as soon as Eli reaches 5 months.... Gabe will still be your "baby" cuz he's only 4 months. I got to thinking about that the other day, how Lauren will always be my baby, no matter what... Love to you! Deli

  4. hugs to you.


  5. Tears reading your post. Enjoy your new little one