Seeking Peace For Christmas...

Camon is officially one whole month old today!

It's still surreal to think at this point with Adalyn...we still hadn't even been able to bring her home. In fact...the day she turned a month old...we were sending her in for surgery. That day still breaks my heart...watching her silent cries...wanting to be held and have that awful breathing tube removed.

I feel grateful each day that Camon doesn't have to experience those things. He is slowly discovering more and more of his little world. It amazes me to see how much he changes from day to day. I love simply watching him wiggle and kick his legs as he is laying on the floor.

He often fixates at Adalyn's pictures on the wall. In those moments, I sometimes get chills...imagining that he likely sees her often still...and gets to hear her sweet whispers to him.

He makes us laugh, especially with his desire to eat anything and everything in sight. His toys..his blankets....my glasses....our faces... each have fallen victims to  his sucking. He has thus far been unsuccessful in trying to swallow his binkie, but that doesn't stop him from trying! He loves to eat...and absolutely loathes to be burped. He thinks the best place to sleep...is in someones arms...snuggled close.

Point proven...end result was face eating!

I've learned that changing little boy diapers are much different than little girls. I call it the diaper version of Russian Roulette.

I've had a hard time with it being the Christmas season again. Much of my heart feels so thankful for sweet Camon and  David.  Yet a huge part of my heart aches for our sweet girl.

I've been thinking about peace lately. For so long....it has been one thing my heart has wanted. It has almost been two years since we began our journey with Adalyn....When we began to find out the struggles she would face. I think peace has had a hard time finding my heart since then...

If you would have asked my old self what peace was...I probably would have said something like "Peace is the feeling that simply comes when everything is going just right, when you can go to bed at night without a worry in the world."

I don't feel that way anymore. I think peace has to be sought out most of the time. It doesn't just arrive like a package on the doorstep.

A few nights ago...in my prayers I was telling Heavenly Father how frustrated I felt. Frustrated that my heart desperately wanted to feel peace and comfort...yet I couldn't. And the moments of peace I had felt...oddly enough....I pushed away. I pushed them away thinking "How can I ever feel peace after what we've been through? How could I possibly feel peace when we our little girl is in heaven...and we have to live apart from her? How can I let myself feel peace when I have so many worries?"

In my search for peace I think I've slowly been learning a few things. Peace isn't a feeling that comes at the end of the day when all is well. 

Maybe peace is the assurance we have in knowing that this life isn't fair...but that this life is not the end. Maybe peace is the quiet comfort of knowing that there was a Savior that came....One who came to take away all of the unfairness of this life. Peace isn't "all is well.." but it is the assurance that one day... All will be well.

Maybe peace is like faith in many ways. It is the burning feeling I have in knowing I will get to hold our little Addie again.

Part of me has thought..."Well...If only I can feel peace...then I will finally be and comforted..and let my heart be open fully. Once I feel peace things will start being easier." Silly. I know. Because I'm realizing feeling peace doesn't mean that suddenly trials stop coming.

At times, I think peace feels like the eye of the hurricane to me. It doesn't mean the hurricane is gone...yet right in the middle of such tragedy, there is calm....There is peace. Having peace doesn't mean trials will be gone. It doesn't mean that a heart won't be broken. It doesn't even mean that everything will go exactly the way I want them to go.

Maybe peace is knowing broken hearts can be healed, empty arms will be filled, broken bodies will be made whole....and tears will be wiped away.  Maybe peace is knowing that sorrow doesn't win. Pain doesn't win. Heartbreak doesn't win. Light wins....Love wins. 

Waiting for "What will be" is the hard part for me. It is what I struggle with. My breath feels taken away when I think of living this whole life without Adalyn. I cry in thinking of all the things in this life I long to experience with both her and her sweet brother.....Those feelings have made it hard for me to feel the Christmas spirit this year.

As I have continued to seek for peace to come into our home this Christmas... I am reminded why Christmas is so beautiful. Christmas is beautiful because there is an Easter.

If there were no Easter....there would be no reason to celebrate a little baby born in Bethlehem so long ago. Celebrating Christmas means Christ won. Death was conquered. He rose again. Celebrating Christmas to me....means celebrating that one day.....one day I will have my little girl again. One day I will get to watch her laugh and dance...and run. One day I will get to hold her in my arms....and watch her with her brother.

Tummy time is hard work. 

So..if any of you out there are having the same struggles...know you aren't alone. It is so hard to trust yourself to feel peace, when worries plague your heart. My advice, is one moment at a time..and pray. Pray even when you don't want to. Pray even if it feels like no one is listening. Find the small comfort in knowing if your heart is breaking...if trials are building...that you are in the middle of a story that does end in the greatest happiness.

To you, my sweet Adalyn, I love you more then my words could ever convey, my darling! I am realizing that feeling peace.. feeling happiness with your brother...or even laughing again doesn't mean my longing for you is gone. There will always be an Adalyn size whole in my heart. That part of my heart is with you. In every laugh...every moment of happiness...it will also be laced with missing you. However....I'm also realizing that it doesn't mean I can't feel peace. It doesn't mean I can't love just as deeply. I hope you know how much you are cherished. A song I heard recently continues to play in my head these days... As deeply as I ache for you...I know that you get to spend Christmas with the Son of God. With the Prince of Peace.  What a tender mercy to know where you are.....and that where you are is ever close to me.

I hope you will continue to help our home be filled with love, peace and your bright light! I hope you will also help my heart feel the Christmas spirit this year. I love you always!

XOXO

Mommy

4 Years

It's officially been 4 years since we began our forever.

I tried to think of the moment that I fell in love with David...

Maybe it was when we made paper boats and attempted to float them down the ditches in Cedar. Maybe it was when we went hiking....and I tripped...sending us both sliding down the mountain. I ripped my pants...and was covered it mud...yet he didn't hesitate to hold my mud caked hand. Maybe it was the way he would bring Star Wars fruit snacks to class. Maybe it was his sense of adventure....or love of superheros. Maybe it was seeing his hilarious dance moves in the car.  Maybe it was the way he talked about his family....and how he clearly adored them. Maybe it was when he told me all about his heart...the past...and the unknowns of the future.

I can't pinpoint the exact moment....all I know is that it happened. Before I knew it, I couldn't imagine a day....month...year...or life that didn't include him.

I know 4 years is a mere ripple in time...

Yet in some ways, it feels as if we have lived a lifetime in these 4 short years.

In 4 years, we have moved 8 times. We have lived in 3 different states.  We have met and became friends with some of the most incredible people. David became Dr. Brown. We welcomed the most beautiful little girl into our lives...and sailed some of the toughest waters with her....until the moment we had to let her sails take her home again. We've made some of life's hardest decisions. We have got through 3 heart surgeries for David. We planted our roots in St. George. And...we most recently welcomed our sweet boy into our world.

(Shout out to the amazing Ora Despain...I always love looking at our wedding pictures because of her!)

I'm a different person then I was 4 years ago in so many ways....there is so much that I may be uncertain of at times.....but one thing that has never wavered is my love for David.

He is my anchor in every way. He believes in me when I don't believe in myself. He is patient. He has the most gentle and selfless soul in the world....(even though he would disagree). He is the least judgmental person I know

He is determined...and has a huge sense of duty to do the right thing. He has held me together numerous times as I have fallen apart in his arms. He has always been there to tightly hold my hand...keeping me tethered...especially on the days when I feel like I'm drowning in waters of anxiety or depression. He can wordlessly remind me that we are always in this together.

As we have became parents....he is always center stage with me...whether it is blow out diapers, sleepless nights, or countless bedtime songs.

He loves Adalyn endlessly....Each and every day of her life he whispered to her how special she was. He sang so many songs....and danced around with her when all she wanted was to be held. Watching his father heart ache for his angel daughter has been  the most painfully beautiful thing my eyes have ever seen.

Seeing him with Camon is much the same. I often hear him from the other room making up silly stories....or bringing comfort when Camon has a melt down from burping. His love for both of them is constant.

He has the quirkiest sense of humor....and never fails to make me laugh.

Is he perfect? No. He isn't. Sometimes he gets road rage. He has been known to steal my pillow at night. He saves containers of food with a tiny bite left in them. At times, he wears outfits that are completely mismatched. We disagree at times...and we can both be stubborn.

He is perfect for me though.

He is the most genuinely good person I have ever met. Never once have I wondered how David feels for me.

He showed me what it is to be loved completely...without bounds or conditions.

So here is to you, my dear, thank you for loving me...on both the stormy days...and the sunny days. Being married to you has helped me to become more of who I want to be. Thank you for loving Adalyn and Camon... they are the luckiest in the world! I'm grateful each day that you are ours. There is no one else I would want to spend my forever with. Now...to count down the hours til you get home from work!!

Oh Camon...your faces kill me! 

This song has always summed up my feelings for you!

Welcoming Your Brother.

Hello my sweet Adalyn,

November was sure a whirlwind my darling. With the year mark of your return to heaven, decorating for the Jubilee, Daddy's heart surgery, and the arrival of your brother....I still feel like I'm slightly spinning.

It's been just two weeks and two days since your brother came into our world.

On the night before your brother was born, I thought so much about how it would be the last night of you as an only child. I thought of how if you were here....I would have made the day special. Reminding you that you were so very loved, and a new sibling wouldn't change that one bit. That it would just bring even more love for all of us.

That night, we were able to deliver the tree we had decorated for you to the family who had bought it, and set it up in their home. It was such a special experience... As I drove home that night, I was in tears....realizing I did get to spend the day with you.

On Novemeber 22nd, at 2:50 in the afternoon....your brother made his big debut! He weighed a big 8 lbs 12 oz! Our doctor and nurses knew all about our experience with you. It felt as if everyone was holding their breath for that first moment he would take his.

They handed your brother to me right away. I couldn't see him hardly for the first ten minutes...due to all the tears in my eyes. You were whisked away before we ever got that moment with you. So being able to be the first to hold him was an absolute wonder to me. My tattered heart overflowed with instant love for him.

Hello Sweet Boy.

When he came out.....they realized that he had a big figure-eight knot it his umbilical cord. Our doctor told us knots like that can often be pretty dangerous...and lead to many other complications or stillbirth. Yet..his knot didn't get pulled tight. I have no doubt that you were his angel... keeping him safe.

We named him Camon Oliver. The name Camon means "from the heart." You taught us that the greatest gifts we can ever give...and the most power we can hold always comes from the heart...so it seemed perfectly fitting for your brother. His middle name, Oliver, means "peace." Something that Daddy and I have desperately needed since you went back to heaven.

He has a stork mark on his nose and forehead....I like to think they came because you gave him two last kisses before he arrived in our arms. 

I have to be honest here Addie baby....bringing your brother home has stirred so many emotions in my heart. Many good...and many hard. Bringing him home simply one day after being born was absolutely wonderful. We simply just sat and gazed at his perfect little features.

Love those sleepy smiles!

Each day...I have shed tears. Having Camon in our home has been such a ray of light. Yet....it has also made me mourn for you in many ways too. I ache to see you with him. As I watch him do things like stretch on the floor...or lift his sweet head...I fill with such awe...and at the same time...sadness that you didn't get to do such simple things. I wish that all you had to worry about was sleeping, burping, pooping and being snuggled. My heart has a renewed ache when I think of all you had to endure. I long for you to be here with us this Christmas season. The holidays feel so foreign without you.

He has the most expressive faces! 

In the midst of those tears.... I have tears of such absolute gratitude...wonder and amazement. How amazing it is to just pick him up and walk into the next room! Without having to pack three separate pieces of equipment. Being able to simply change his clothes without moving tubes and wires....or carry just him in the carseat is amazing. I cried the first time I did his laundry... how beautiful it felt to have tiny little socks and clothes to fold once again.

As I watch your Daddy with Camon....my heart feels like bursting. He was meant to be a "Daddy." Seeing his love for Camon melts my soul just like it did to see his love for you. I sure missed hearing him sing songs and make up stories.

He really is the best Daddy

And, as tiring as the nights may be...I shed tears of gratitude that it gets to be Daddy and I that cares for your brother at night, instead of the hospital staff. I feel so absolutely proud when I watch him root for food...and be able to suck and swallow effortlessly. Everything is so different with him my darling....down to all of the little details like burping and crying. We burped you through your G-tube by opening your little button... and you rarely cried...but when you did...we had to make sure your oxygen didn't drop.

So much hair!! He has the same curly hair as you and your Daddy!

Little Camon has such strong lungs....and such a huge desire to eat everything all the time. I think you whispered to him that eating is one of life's pleasures...and to do it as often as possible!

He has the widest eyes when he is awake. It is like he is trying to soak up everything in his little world. He especially is captivated by your pictures on the wall. He's expressive face gets Daddy and I laughing so often.

Sometimes, I find myself staring into his milk dazed eyes after he eats....as he slowly begins drifting off to sleep....with a little milk drool coming out of his mouth....And I wonder if, in heaven, we will get to spend years and years reliving certain moments. I would spend my years in simple moments like that, of sleepy-eyed, milk drool Camon. There are so many moments I would relive with you. And in just two weeks, there are countless I would spend with your brother.

All of that hair!

As I star at him in the late nights, I find myself wondering if you miss him. I am sure you do. I'm certain you stay close and I'm sure it is different with him here...but I feel you are so excited for him to experience this life.

Sometimes, as I feed him, I tell him pieces of life advice. Sometimes silly. Sometimes serious. This morning, I told him a few things. I told him to always search for you...to find you in the beautiful things of this world and that you would always be his guide.. I told him to always wear his seat belt..and to let me give him tight hugs. I told him to always save a little room for ice cream. To always be kind, no matter the person. I told him it's okay to cry. And that some days are best spent in pj's with hot chocolate and good movies. I told him to pray....even in the times he doesn't want to...during the times he might be mad at God. 

Some moments....I feel so crippled by my fears. Fears of what "could" happen. Fears of what "has" happened. I feel afraid of so many things sweet girl. Especially since it is cold season....I feel like carrying lysol with me everywhere...and hibernating for the winter to keep the germs and sniffles at bay.

Waking up is hard. 

Oh Adalyn....I am so eternally grateful for your brother...and yet...I miss you so fiercely. I want you to know I'm trying my hardest to be the mom your brother deserves. I'm trying to let my heart love again. I keep thinking of the a line from the song Lullaby by Eclipse "Heaven's been kind to bless me with you...and trust me with your keep."

That line is perfect for how I feel for the two of you.

So Addie baby...even though I feel rather tired these days, I forget to put deodorant on some days...and sometimes I smell like a mixture of sour milk and baby poop... I feel so blessed that I get to be a mommy to both of you. As imperfect as I am.

I imagine heaven is absolutely beautiful this time of year. I hope you got to help decorate a big Christmas tree! I also hope you like your sweet tree...people have given us such sweet ornaments for you. It has been a gift for my heart to see them.

I hope you will continue to stay extra close this Christmas season my darling! I will look for you in all I see....but especially in the wide, captivating eyes of your little brother. I sure wish I could know all of the things he does!

 I love you always and completely!


XOXO

Mommy

365.

That's how many days we've been without you my darling. You were called back to heaven early on a Friday morning. I honestly never thought we would survive a whole year without you. I felt our hearts would stop...or somehow the world would end...that there would be no way time could continue without you. 

Absolutely every part of my soul yearns for you. I ache to feel the touch of your sweet, soft fingers. I ache to smell you..to feel you in my arms...to simply run my fingers through your hair. I ache to shower you with love.

You've continued to teach me so much in these days without you here physically.

Even as angels were calling you home, you're heart was the strongest I have ever seen. Holding you as you slipped back into heaven was so sacred....yet completely devastated and shattered my heart. I wasn't ready to let go. Even now...I'm still not.

Thank you for making me a mommy. Thank you for being a light in countless lives. Your purpose was and is far greater then we could ever fathom.  Thank you for making me better. Thank you for showing with your entire life that miracles are real. You are pure goodness, Adalyn Grace....A soul that bright and loving is a testament to me that God is real. That He is merciful, present and loving.

Thank you for giving your beautiful heart to Daddy and I. Your love is the most beautiful thing I have ever held. 

This was the last picture I ever took of you....in the early hours of the morning before you slipped back into heaven. Oh baby girl....you gave us so much love. 

I'm at a loss of words today my darling, so...here are two songs. The first is is the words to "Homeward Bound," a song we we sang so frequently to you. Little did we realize how fitting the words would become for your life. The second is your song, Addie baby....and encompasses so much of our feelings for you.

In the quiet misty morning

When the moon has gone to bed, 

When the sparrows stop their singing

And the sky is clear and red, 

When the summer's ceased its gleaming 

When the corn is past its prime, 

When adventure's lost its meaning -

 I'll be homeward bound in time 

Bind me not to the pasture 

Chain me not to the plow 

Set me free to find my calling

 And I'll return to you somehow

If you find it's me you're missing

If you're hoping I'll return, 

To your thoughts I'll soon be listening,

And in the road I'll stop and turn

Then the wind will set me racing

 As my journey nears its end

 And the path I'll be retracing 

When I'm homeward bound again

Bind me not to the pasture 

Chain me not to the plow 

Set me free to find my calling 

And I'll return to you somehow 

I look forward to the day we get to come home to you too. The day you return to our arms once again. I hope you know how deeply you are loved by Daddy and I . You are written on every single part of our hearts.

We miss you so much baby girl!

Stay ever close, 

XO

Mommy

Coming Home.

During our stay in the PICU...we realized soon that Adalyn wasn't going to get better. I still wasn't ready to accept that though. Countless times I prayed....Telling God exactly what I wanted. Exactly what we need. Begging....bargaining.... and pleading for things to be different. For results to come back better...

Yet over and over....David and I got the same answer.  It was time for us to let our brave, perfect little girl go home. 

Making the decision to remove Adalyn's breathing tube was the absolute hardest of my life. To know that we would only have a short time left would instantly throw me into a panic. Even today, I struggle to think of that.

After removing the tube, Adalyn never again had a seizure. It was our miracle. Her entire countenance radiated wisdom...comfort...and peace. She was tired, yet her eyes were so calm. She even "talked" in those days after removing her tube.

First time holding her after the tube was removed...best feeling! 

We had a big meeting, with absolutely everyone involved in her care. Best case scenario, with each treatment option we could try....it would maybe buy us another month. As much as we wanted to keep her with us, we couldn't put her through what we knew was only a chance at more time.

Some of the physical angels we were surrounded by helped arrange for us to be flown home.

November 10th, we finally came back home. 

There are no words to describe how I felt leaving some of our family...both mine and David's sister...knowing that would be the last time they got to shower her in kisses.

Her life-flight nurses dressed her perfectly. She looked so cozy and beautiful. My eyes could hardly leave her perfect face the entire flight home. Almost as if my heart was trying to etch each and every detail of her into my memory. 

As soon as we were settled in that night... it was clear how much Adalyn had wanted to be home too.

That night was the last perfectly calm night we would have. I won't go into detail, because it's too close to my heart.... But that night was one of the most sacred of my life. The capacity of love that filled that room was beyond anything I had ever felt. I know angels were present....and the prayers from so many were comforting us...

The days that followed...we spent every single second next to our sweet girl.

As I have reflected on that day... so many thoughts have come to mind. I wanted to hope that this November would, in some ways this year, be much more calm...and give my heart a chance to find the pieces of itself again.

Oh how I miss this..

Yet, this past weekend has once more set David and I into a tailspin. 

On Saturday, David's defibrillator (much like a pacemaker) started beeping every few hours. Most people might not know the feeling of their body randomly making beeping noises...or sounding like an English ambulance...but David sure does. We wanted to hope it was just his device malfunctioning and sending off a false alarm.

As it would turn out...one of the leads going from the device into his heart has shattered. Meaning, David needs immediate surgery to replace it. 

When we heard the news....I wanted to say, "You're kidding me, right?" How is it possible to so frequently have such horrible timing... When we found out we were pregnant earlier this year...one of my fears was something going wrong with David around the same time we were having a baby again. I told myself I was being irrational....and shell shocked from the past year. Yet here we are.

The complicated part is that David already has too many excess wires in his heart from old leads. They generally don't remove old leads because of the risk it poses. However....they can't fit a new lead in...unless they remove an old lead.

The risk with removing a lead is that it can puncture a hole in the heart wall. Having a hole in your heart is not a good thing... 

The lead they need to replace is one David rarely needs....but essentially...it is his life saving lead. If anything goes wrong, like heart going way too fast, it's the lead that delivers a shock to his heart to get him back into a normal rhythm. Imagine the paddles you see in medical shows....that's what his device does.

In the mean time...David gets to wear this fashionable "Life Vest" It monitors his heart....and can deliver a shock if needed. 

You can tell he really loves it. 

So, this week, on the 17th...David goes in for surgery.. Not because his heart itself is having problems..His heart is doing great. It is just the device/leads inside. His doctor set us up with one of the best lead extraction surgeons in the nation. If all goes well, the surgery will be several hours...and we'll get to come home after a couple days. Worst case scenario... if a hole is punctured, they do emergency open heart to fix the hole.

And....our little boy is set to arrive on the 27th. 

Needless to say....there have been many tears shed in the Brown house these past few days. It's hard to not understand. Hard to feel like the rain clouds are so constant.

I have no doubt Adalyn gets so much of her amazing courage and strength from her brave Daddy. They are the two most incredible souls I have ever known.  I feel beyond lucky I get to call them mine....but feeling so helpless to fixing things is debilitating at times.

I wish I could say I have some sort of insight... All I know for sure....is that some days are hard. Really hard. 

Some months are hard. Really hard. 

So....this week...I find myself begging, bargaining... and pleading once more. Mostly just trying to remind myself to trust in Someone greater. We are praying that all goes so smoothly with David's surgery. Praying that we feel Adalyn so very close. And praying that our growing little boy stays inside for as long as possible.