Oh, To Remember

It's a perfect rainy Sunday afternoon to still be in my pajamas.

Seth is napping.

Jason and Josh are watching football in the basement.

Julia is doodle-bopping around like only she can do.

I'm on the couch having just started episode 1 of Downton Abbey to see what all the fuss is about.

As I write, 200+ miles away in Beckley, WV, services are going on celebrating one of the most beautiful souls I have ever known. A dear friend from college who walked with me during some of my life's greatest uncertainties, whose love assured me of my worth when I couldn't see it, and who carried herself with grace and dignity in the midst of the unimaginable, passed away on Wednesday. She leaves behind a husband and 3 young children - and holes in the hearts of anyone and everyone she ever met.

Heidi was a gift. I've spent the last few days begging my mind to remember every detail of our friendship. Truth is, I can't recall when we met, but I know I was instantly drawn to her. Her honesty and almost awkward bluntness created a safe place for me to find truth. Her quick wit and bubbly laughter were perfect entertainment while cooped up on campus with little money and no car. Later, when we both were married with children, her peaceful, practical style of keeping order in chaos - or just enjoying the chaos was fresh and inviting.

When Seth was born, she sent me a Facebook note letting me know she was praying for me. She had quite a bit of NICU experience before having to give one of her babies back to Jesus and she offered just to be there for me however I needed. Reading her words gave me strength and peace in such a scary circumstance. Her worst fears had come true years earlier, and here she was on the other side still trusting God - and I knew I needed to do the same.

God, in His goodness, had our paths cross in real life this past summer. Her grandmother lives near me and she had come to visit with her parents and children. We set a date to catch up face to face for the first time in many years.

We met up at Caribou Coffee at the Greene. I was over-the-top excited to see my friend. She had told me about her sickness and the toll it had taken on her physically - how her bright red hair was now a sandy brown and how her weight had dropped significantly - but when I saw her, I knew immediately, it was my dear friend Heidi. Beautiful inside and outside Heidi.

We hugged as long lost friends hug and relished in the details of our lives that you just can't relay on-line or even by phone. She spoke of her little Ainsley who went back to Jesus so young and then how Addison's disease had affected her. She was so matter-of-fact like she always had been accepting this is what God laid out before her and she was going to use it all for good. Typical Heidi style - trusting God and serving others...

We could've talked for hours...and oh, how I wish we could still.

I found she had passed away on my way to work. Since our coffee date, my company had moved its offices to the Greene, and after pulling myself together from sobbing in my car, I walked by that Caribou Coffee glancing blurry-eyed at the two comfy leather chairs in front of the stone fire place where we had our now more precious than ever get together...Thankful for that one last visit and devastated there would be no more visits this side of Heaven.

Her death has hit me hard. I think of this horrible loss I feel not knowing how to begin to comprehend the loss felt by her family and friends close by. I pray for comfort. I pray for the peace and strength she found in God to be poured over her husband, her children, her parents and all those mourning right now. My pastor has said several times over the years that death is life's harshest reality. How true that is for those left behind.

Godspeed, sweet Heidi Peterson Brown, and thank you for everything....I have to believe you fulfilled your God-given purpose more quickly than most and that you'll be waiting, fire red hair and all, for the rest of us....'til then....

Yes, Julia, There is a Jesus...

I do love Santa. I promise I love Jesus more, but I won't lie and say that the magic of Santa isn't fun for me now that I have kids of my own. I love seeing little minds dreaming up ways he gets to every house in one night. I love tracking him on the NORAD website Christmas Eve. I love the smiles and giggles of my children when they pass him at the mall. I love the movies and songs and stories and snowglobes and lights... I love it all.

Jason and I have been on the same page, though, that we would never lie about him. We know people who refuse to play Santa because it's "deceitful" and I know people who will lie through their teeth so their children learn the truth from their own spouse. So, our middle-of-the-road game plan was to answer honestly. Is Santa real? Why, yes he is (leaving out the part that he's your daddy and my daddy and all the daddies before them). It worked for us. Kind of a grey area, but my conscience felt clean enough.

Until Julia, a few months ago, pinned me.

"Mom, is Dad Santa Claus?"

The question we couldn't deny... "Yes," I answered nervous to what her response would be, proud she figured it out and completely oblivious to the implications.

"So what about the Easter Bunny? Is he Dad? Is he fake, too?" Yep.

"The Tooth Fairy? Fake? Huh, Mom, huh?" Yep. Fake.

"And then what about JESUS?" My jaw dropped. Heart stopped. Soul cringed.

"Jesus. Mom, is He fake, too?"

Did we just spend the past 7 years setting our baby up to question the existence of sweet Baby Jesus just so we could get a cute picture of her on the lap of a strange fat man with a beard? Damn those secular books and songs and lights that I loved so much!

But it dawned on me quickly that this question was a good one - one we all need to ask at one point or another regardless of Santa, the Easter Bunny, etc. Is Jesus real?

I got to anwer her who Jesus is at a point where she not only wanted/needed to know - she was demanding to know. It was a rare opportunity, to say the least, with my busy little lady.

My Christian school upbringing paid off in 4 minutes or less in a mini-sermon filled with Truth I've been taught and Truth I have seen and lived. Her dear life being one of them. It was precious -not perfect - but precious just the same.

Yes, Julia, there is a Jesus. He came as a baby to love you more than you can ever imagine bringing a gift Santa could never give worth more than a Tooth Fairy will ever leave and sweeter than the Easter Bunny, for sure. :)

Merry Christmas from the Ennis Fam 5!

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World Prematurity Day, November 17, 2012

Nineteen months ago, I'm pretty sure I related the word "preemie" mostly to Cabbage Patch Babies and I associated the March of Dimes with helping at-risk mothers get off drugs and alcohol - having no idea the roller coaster of a birth experience I was in for....and how uninformed I really was....

My sweet baby Seth was a miracle from the beginning. Since those two pink lines on the pregnancy test appeared, I had to force myself daily give my fears to God and believe that the life inside me was in His hands.

When he was born via c-section at 32 weeks due to my diagnosis of severe pre-eclampsia and weighing only 3 lbs. 8 oz., I was convinced he would never be "normal" and in my drug induced physical/mental state, I was convinced I was never going to be able to be the mom he needed me to be. My family read so many congratulations coming in from Facebook and I honestly was so confused as to why people were congratulating me. I was scared and swollen. I hurt. I couldn't lift my head to see, let alone stretch out my hand to touch, my tiny newborn baby. Who celebrates that?

What I didn't know at the time that I truly believe would have relieved at least some of my fears, was the amazing work March of Dimes had been doing for years to not only prevent pre-maturity, but also to develop life-saving and quality of life-enhancing protocols that touch virtually every baby born in the United States. They are so much more than working to prevent birth defects....so much more.

They have dedicated a website to connect parents who are going through life in the NICU - a site I wish I had known about during Seth's 26 days in the NICU and a site I try to promote whenever I can. It was such a lonely time for me emotionally. I have an amazing family who was there for us the entire time. My parents even took our kids on their anniversary trip to Charleston, SC so Jason and I could be with Seth more while I was healing. Still, having no one to relate to was hard. I didn't know my fears were normal. I didn't know what questions to ask or even what to google (ha!). Since finding this site, I've made it a point to check in regularly to reach out to anyone who shares that their baby is still in the hospital. I want everyone to know that they are not alone and that amazing people they will never know are working around the clock to help their babies come home as healthy as possible.

Those of you who know our Seth, know how thankful we are that at almost 19 months old, he has caught up to his actual age in all areas. It's a gift we will never take for granted. His broad smile like his daddy's and bright blue Estepp-side eyes shine joy and love in my life everyday - and most nights, too! (Please sleep soon, baby boy!)

Tomorrow is World Prematurity Day. I'm celebrating by holding my sweet Seth a little tighter, if he'll sit still long enough, and by saying a prayer for families and babies everywhere who are walking the path my family walked - that they will be blessed with good health, strength and support.

Maybe I Should Change....

.... the title of my blog to "The Julia Saga."

((and I'm really hoping that and laughing prematurely if anyone thinks my title was a political **thing**))

My family, friends, and random acquaintances all know I'm conservative. I value limited govenment, fiscally and socially. I believe in a place where the beauty of giving is giving unforced. I put a lot of weight in hard work being rewarded and hand outs being temporary help, not a lifestyle to settle for. :)

Julia.... This girl just wants to win. She digs her heals in whatever issue is at hand and could be one of the worst winners and sorest losers I have ever encountered.

So, this morning, the thought of telling her the outcome of the Presidential election kind of made me shudder. We had been to see Mitt Romney when he came to our town. She held up his signs. Wore his button proudly and boo'd the name of Obama any chance she got (except when around my family knowing their die-hard Romney-ness, she loved sparking a debate).

She went with me to vote and then stayed up last night as long as her tired eyes would let her...waiting to see if Romney she won.

I walked into her room about 6:30am. I saw her lying in the dark, eyes wide open and sucking her thumb.

"Mitt Romney lost, didn't he?" first words out of her mouth staring at the ceiling.

"Yeah....but how did you know?"

"I could feel it. I just knew...But the Purple and Blue Unicorns won at school yesterday, so it's ok. I still win."

Talk about anti-climatic. But I'll take anti-climatic over its antonym anyday with this girl. Ha!

That Tomorrow Needed Me

Telling Julia, "Girl, you will rock this!" came.... The very next day....

The day after I jumped off the cliff of impatience, my girl (along with all the kids in her little, but amazing school) was sent home with a letter telling the parents that Mrs. P (Julia's teacher) was resigning. Rather abruptly resigning, at that.

I won't go into all the details being I don't really know all the details, but regardless of why, Mrs. P's departure devestated Julia. We told her gently and cheered that a new teacher was ready to take over on Monday and everything was going to be great!

"Julia, you will rock this! This new teacher will love you!"

Ah, the weight of guilt from the day before being lifted ever so slightly and ever so healing... Such is the timing of God, I believe.....

Still, there were tears.... a lot of tears... a lot of "whys?"..... a lot of sniffles....

But there were hugs and cuddles and this momma telling her girl that changes are great adventures and can totally be God's blessings in disguise if you let them. I met her doubts with confidence, no cheapening of her feelings nor writing off her insecurities.

The next morning brought more of the same. Crying. Pouting. Vowing never to return. Etc. Etc. I even wrote her school prinicpal warning her that my darling Julia might need a little more love and time to embrace this shake to her universe....

I know big picture-wise, she'll be fine. I know when I see her today, she'll tell me how her new teacher is freaking awesome (tho I tell her not to say freaking). I'm sure she won't even remember me being a complete jerk one day and diving into redemption the next.... But I will. I'll be thankful I screwed up the costume scene to be ready for the next little girl crisis that evolved.

It's a good feeling...being ready as a mom...if even just once. :)

I Missed It Today....

It's been a rough week with my Julia. She's been slow to do what she needs to do and I have been quick to jump on her for the tasks she has either forgotten or refused or taken her sweet time with.

It's only Wednesday, but she has left the house crying/sobbing over something all three days. "Something" being a myriad of not doing what she was told topped off with me losing my patience and snapping at her. Oh and I have been mean. A kind of meaness that does not make me proud of myself no matter how deserving I think my meaness was.

And this morning. Worse.

A few weeks ago, all 5 of us went to Target to pick out Halloween costumes. Having not been allowed to Trick or Treat as a child, this little tradition of ours makes up for some of the fun I know I missed growing up. Choosing what fun (not scary/evil) character to dress my little babies as is so fun!

After not finding any costume and desparate to walk out of Target with something, she decided to choose real clothes from the Disney Line and be CeCe from her favorite show "Shake It Up". Case closed -and closed rather cutely....

Except CeCe has big red hair and I needed to get a big red wig.

Last night, we found an adult-sized red wig at Kroger and Julia thought it was acceptable....You know, these decisions must have the 7 yr old girl's approval.

This morning all was well. Wig was in place - kind of itchy - but we worked that out and headed to school.

We stepped one foot in when panic hit. I could feel it in her hand squeezing mine tighter and tighter as her body slowly shifted to behind mine and as her other hand slid the wig right off her head.

She pulled me to a stop, looked up at me with her round blue eyes now wide with a little girl embarrassment I quickly remembered from so many years ago...

"Mom" she whispered with her thumb in her mouth. "I don't like my costume anymore. Take the wig. I can't do it. Please, don't let anyone see it. Please, Mom."

Instead of saying, "Sweetie, you totally can rock this! You look great. You are CeCe to a tee! Your little friends are going to love it!"

I slithered. I jumped off the cliff of impatience and seethed.

"I paid $5.79 for this wig and you WILL wear it." - Just writing my hateful words chokes me. Not even for what they say, but how I said it. And how I know at that moment she was reaching for my confidence and I smacked back a cheap price tag.

Then I walked out of the school feeling her little presence standing alone in the hallway staring at my back.

It's a bad feeling messing up as a mom. But I'm not writing this to berate myself, but to remind myself of what really matters and how my sweet little Julia is little and needing me to tell her she has what it takes to "rock" whatever she sets her mind to do.

Today, I missed it. But because of today, hopefully tomorrow, I won't.