The Call

We got the call yesterday.  The call we've been waiting for for almost 5 months.  The day Kellen passed the coroner told us it could take up to 90 days for an official cause of death.  They would do an autopsy the next day and then they would send his blood work to a lab on the east coast to see if they could find anything abnormal in his blood and that's why it could take so long.  So we waited... and waited.  A million thoughts ran through my head while I was waiting.  As much as I tried not to, I would question everything.  Replay that day over and over.  So when the 90 days came and went, we called.  "We're not sure who told you 90 days," they said.  "It'll be more like 5 months."  So back to waiting we went.  It felt like we were at a stand still until we could get this closure.  It's a strange feeling when people ask what happened and you're not even sure what happened.  I would always say SIDS but in my heart, I wasn't sure that's what it was because I kept thinking about how he was sick the day before and it seemed like too big of a coincidence.
So yesterday morning as we were driving, I mentioned to my husband that I wish they would just call already.  This coming weekend will mark 5 months since he passed so I knew to be expecting the call any day.  The big man upstairs must have heard my request because an hour or so later, the call came.  When I heard who it was on the other line my heart stopped.  Abe and I hurried into the office so we could hear better and shield Farrah from anything we didn't want her to hear.
"So he was sick right?  He was sick right before?" "Yes."  "Ok, did you hear a loud barking cough?" "No." "You didn't?" "No." "Well the doctor is listing the cause of death as croup..... typically there's a loud barking cough that comes with it.".... silence.
I didn't know what to say.  I left the room to go sit and cry.  I was so afraid of this.  I didn't want to hear that it was because of him being sick.  I remember thinking that day before he passed that if he wasn't better by tomorrow I was going to bring him in to see the doctor because, even though he didn't have a fever, he was congested and I wanted to get it checked out.  I gave him a warm bath and put the humidifier on before I left the room that night.  Was there something I missed?  It never crossed my mind that anything I saw was life threatening otherwise I obviously would have had him at the hospital in a heartbeat.
So Abe came out of the office after he finished the call.  Both of us irritated because everything they told us was found during the initial autopsy, not the bloodwork.  Because we were told they found nothing in the autopsy initially, I was thinking that maybe it was SIDS.  Abe told me one last thing the man from the coroner's office said on the phone after I left.  "Not that it makes it any better, but there was nothing you could have done.  Even if you had brought him to the doctor it probably wouldn't have helped."
I thought he was just blowing smoke to make us feel better but as I started to research croup, I'm starting to believe he was right.  It is extremely rare to die from croup.  Everything I read said it's rarely serious. Suggestions included using a humidifier and rest.  In fact Abe was reading some statistics and a baby is less likely to die from croup than from SIDS.
So here we are.  Where are we supposed to go from here?  I guess we've received as much closure as we possibly can have.  I don't think this will change how often I think of him.  And I certainly will continue missing him every second of every day.  But the waiting game has ended.

Thank you to everyone for always thinking of us, supporting us, praying for us and for reading this blog.  As much as this news brings an element of closure, I never want anyone to forget about my sweet boy.  So thank you for reading every time I post.  The fact that so many of you think of my son so often means the world to me. 

"I can't even imagine"

It's a phrase I've been hearing a lot lately.  "I can't even imagine."  In fact, it's a phrase I have said in the past about my very same situation.  And it's true, you can't imagine until it happens to you.  I could never have imagined what it would be like to put my perfectly healthy baby to sleep and find him unresponsive the next morning.  I think it's a good thing that our minds protect us from fully grasping what that would be like.  I still find myself saying that about other situations.  When I hear horrible things on the news (I try not to even watch.)
But lately, I've been thinking that same thing about my beautiful blessing named Farrah.  I can't even imagine what my life would be like right now if I didn't have her.  I know everyone says this about their kids but there truly is something so special about her.  She has saved me over these past 4 months.  The innocence of a child is something I didn't understand until this happened.  She has a different attitude than the rest of us.  While she misses him, she has made comments like "Kellen is in heaven and you can eat all kinds of sweets in heaven."  Or "I wonder what Kellen is doing right now in heaven?  Did you know you can do whatever you want in heaven?"  While I don't remember telling her these specific things about heaven (she tends to have selective hearing at times :), we talk about how great heaven is so she knows nothing other than joy that her brother is experiencing it.
I have heard that children often have a sixth sense when it comes to sensing people that have gone on before us, and lately I feel like that might be the case for her.  In the car the other day I kept looking in the mirror and seeing her sitting in her car seat and staring out the window with a big smile on her face.  I asked her what she was thinking about and she said "I'm just smiling back at my brother.  He's smiling at me right now."  She's also been saying things like she's talking to him or playing with him.  I love that she still gets to experience him.  She seems to still have a piece of him that is comforting to her whether it's real or not. 
For those of you that know Farrah, you know how much she loves mermaids.  There have been times I've seen her close her eyes and put her hands together and say "I wish to become a mermaid." (A line from one of her Barbie movies.)  She's always disappointed when she opens her eyes to discover she's not an actual mermaid.  Even when we try to pretend we're mermaids she always says "No, not pretend mermaid, I want to be a REAL mermaid!"  This distinction is very important between real and pretend because even though she's young she gets the difference.  A couple weeks ago she shared with me about the one time she became a real mermaid.  She said one night her brother came to her and he turned her into a real mermaid.  She got to swim in the ocean with her mermaid tail for one night and then he turned her back into a person.  She insists that this was real and not pretend.  Call me crazy but I have no doubt in my mind that her brother came to her in a dream and made this wish come true for her.  Love her to pieces.  I can't even imagine this journey without her. 

The Good Old days

I've found myself reminiscing a lot lately.  Abe and I have been together for almost 10 years.  We met when he was 18 and I was 19.  We started dating when I was 20 and we've been together ever since.  When I think about how young we were I wonder how I would feel if Farrah chose the same path.  It makes me uneasy to think about her getting married at 23 but I also know that it was right for us so if she makes that choice I know it will be what's best for her. Here we are as babies in college (yes we were over 21.)  I think my husband hasn't aged a bit.  In fact he still has that shirt :)

 

I've been thinking a lot about the carefreeness of those days.  I don't want to say that life was easier, but it was certainly a lot more simple.  Being in the line of work I'm in, I get to talk to lots of different people from lots of different walks of life and one thing I hear from the college crowd a lot is "I'm just so busy, I don't have time for (xyz.)"  I have to bite my tongue every time because inside all I'm thinking is "Are you kidding me?  This is probably the most time you will ever have until you retire so soak it up now kid!"  And then I start feeling really old.

But I think the same sentiment applies to us all.  We all get caught up in the act of being busy.  We're all so busy being busy and it's the first thing we give as an excuse for something we want to get out of.  But what I've learned in my almost 30 years on earth is that if something is important to you, you'll find a way to make it work.  Period.  End of story.  It's one thing to say that you're choosing  not to do something because it doesn't align with your values at this time, but I'm amazed at how many people use the "I'm too busy" excuse for something that could enhance their lives.  Going back to school, eating healthier, weekly date nights, whatever it may be.  My friends, time is not promised.  Make time for things that make your life better.  

Off my soapbox on that.  Back to the good old days.  I've been revisiting fond memories of our early days together.  Walks on the beach in Santa Barbara whenever we wanted, unlimited time together, our tiny studio apartment, the hodge podge of hand me down furniture.  Actually we still have a lot of that furniture so scratch that one.  Would I want to give up everything I have now to go back to that?  Absolutely not.  We are blessed beyond measure.  But when I think of those days, I am reminded that we really have been through so much together.  Those 20 year olds probably had no idea what was in store for them.  The pure joy, and the absolute sorrow.  I believe God gave me him and God gave me Farrah to make it through these last several months.  I have no doubt in my mind this wouldn't work if I had to do this with anyone else.   

I'm sure most couples that have been together longer than we have may think 9+ years is nothing, but when I think about all that has happened in these 9 short years, I'm sure it's more than most have to endure in an entire lifetime.  In one of my therapy sessions the therapist said that there was a study done on couples that had been married a long time compared to those that had been divorced.  The couples that stayed together didn't have any less life stressors.  They had just as many struggles with money, jobs, deaths, etc.  They did have better communication skills.  That is the reason why I know we're in it for a lifetime.  

That one song

We all have that one song.  The one we can't get enough of.  We could listen to it over and over again and not get sick of it.  I grew up with music being a huge part of my upbringing.  I was in several choirs, took piano lessons from the ages of 6-18 (don't ask me to play now because from 18-29 I haven't played), was in musicals, took voice lessons and dabbled in various other instruments.  I feel emotion through song much more than through words alone.  I hope I can pass on my love of music to Farrah. 
This song "Oceans (Where feet may fail)" by Hillsong United is my new jam.  Like seriously on repeat.  And I can't listen to it without crying.  It's a scientific fact.  The minute it starts... waterworks. 
Before Kellen passed, my experience at church was completely different than it is now.  Before we went because we felt like we were supposed to.  Well at least I felt like I had to and I'm pretty sure Abe just went to keep me happy.  Now it is time I look forward to every week to connect with God and help bring healing to our hearts like only faith can. 
When Abe and I had been married for a year or two we were in that new marriage, scraping by, top ramen phase of our relationship.  Like with most young couples we struggled financially for a little while and I remember saying to him "If this is the worst thing we ever have to go through as a couple, I will consider us to be very blessed."  Of course I never could have imagined what was to come.  In a way I felt like I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.  I hadn't dealt with much loss in my life.  I lost both of my grandmas, but both had lived full lives, so while I was sad and missed them, I wouldn't consider losing them to be tragedies.  Losing a child on the other hand.....
So when I heard this song I really listened to was the lyrics despite the fact that it has a beautiful melody and instrumentals.  It describes our journey right now.  This season of our life has been filled with sorrow but also filled with faith like you could never imagine.  The entire song is one big description of my relationship with God in this moment but some lines in particular that stood out to me are the first lines:
"You call me out upon the waters
The great unknown, where feet may fail.
And there I find You in the mystery
In Oceans deep my faith will stand."

And towards the end where she sings:
"Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders
Let me walk upon the waters
Wherever You would call me.
Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander
And my faith will be made stronger
In the presence of my Saviour."

It's as if God himself picked my brain and wrote this song to help me through this time.  I couldn't describe my feelings any better than the idea that I have been asked to have faith and walk out on the water, and the deeper it gets, the more faith I have. 

This past Saturday night I had a bit of a meltdown while laying in bed.  It was almost midnight and I couldn't sleep.  I couldn't stop thinking about Kellen.  When he first passed away it was so uncomfortable to go about my daily routine without him.   I was so used to doing everything with him on my hip.  I was so used to hearing him crawl around on the floor, to hearing him laughing.  It seemed so unnatural to not have him there.  But I'm starting to lose that feeling and I hate it.  My "new normal" is to go about my day revolving around Farrah and Abe, but not Kellen.  I was laying in bed and sobbing uncontrollably.  I haven't had that happen as often as you would think.  Crying yes.... multiple times per day, but not to the point of not being able to get it together. 
I have my ok days and my bad days.  Everyday I need to lean on my faith to get me through.  I lean on my sweet Farrah and my amazing husband.  I lean on my family and my friends.  This is certainly something I can't do on my own. 

The dreaded to do list

I'll be the first to admit it.  I'm kind of a to do list addict.  I love the feeling of writing something down that needs to get done and then crossing it off.  A sense of pride comes over me, even if it's just "load the dishwasher."  Ever since Kellen passed there is a whole long list of other types of things that need to get done.  Things that are hard to think about. 
This past weekend we crossed a huge one off our list.  I haven't even been able to write most of these things down on my list because putting pen to paper is one more form of validation that he's gone that I don't want to face.  We finally decided what we wanted put on his headstone.  It was something that we weren't intentionally putting off, but we just didn't have an urgency to decide because nothing seemed right.  It's a surreal experience.  What can we possibly say to describe Kellen's journey on earth and the way that he has touched our lives?  Finally the man from the cemetery called and told us we were pushing the limit for getting the engraving taken care of.  We had to get this figured out.  As I've said before, the word "joy" has been the theme of Kellen's life for us.  So Abe came up with something using a lyric from a song and changing it up a bit to say "Heaven holds joy for all of us."  Of course his name, date of birth and death will be on there as well.  We went back and forth about whether or not we wanted his picture on the stone.  We ultimately decided to put it on there even though it may be painful to see every time we go to visit.  We just felt we would regret it more if we didn't put it on there. 
There are many other things for us to get to.  We still haven't touched his room.  We put every single baby item we have in his room and shut the door.  If you open the door it is packed to the brim with his things.  You can't even walk in there.  One more thing for us to get to. 
The way I look at it is right now every small little thing is a major chore for us.  There are many things I would like to do, and know need to get done, but because of the nature of everything, if it's not vital that it happens right this minute, it can wait.  I will take those things on piece by piece.  When I check one off it almost feels like I need to take a month break to regroup before I can take on something else.  So for now Kellen's room can wait.  Getting a hope chest for his things can wait.  Framing his pictures can wait.  It can all wait.  I know it may seem like right now we are just surviving and not strategic about anything, but everything we do or don't do right now is on purpose.  If we're choosing not to sign Farrah up for a zillion activities, it's for a reason.  If we're choosing not to overextend ourselves, it's definitely on purpose.  It's interesting because before this happened, I would say yes to pretty much anything that came our way.  And now I feel like I physically have something creating a barrier between me and my to do list.  Even if I wanted to, I just can't bring myself to take on anything that doesn't have to do with my faith, my family or my career.  I don't know if I'll ever get back to the "old me."  Not sure I even want to.  I certainly have appreciated the power of saying no to some things.  I have Kellen to thank for this new piece of me.

Dreams

I've heard from several of you that I need therapy.  Trust me, I know.  We're working on getting that set up as we speak.  Like most people that lose someone they love unexpectedly, especially a child, I go over the day before Kellen passed in my head all the time.  People tell me not to think about it but that's easier said then done.  The trauma of finding your son, unsuccessfully attempting CPR, and everything that follows is not something that's easy to get over.  I imagine it will stay with me for the rest of my life. I've heard many people say that in traumatizing situations such as these everything is a blur.  Not for me.  I remember every moment of the day before and the day of.  I think, wonder, question, analyze pretty much every moment of those days.  I try not to, but again, easier said than done.
But a few nights ago I had a dream.  Most of the time my dreams are so crazy and out there that in the morning I usually can't even remember what they were.  But this one is something I won't soon forget.  In this dream I met a medium.  One of those people that can speak to people that have crossed over.  He was an interesting looking man.  Early twenties, unkempt, stoner type.  I explained to him that I had lost my son and he said "your son wants me to tell you something."  I instantly saw Kellen's face in the distance and the medium said "He wants you to release how he died.  Stop thinking about what exactly happened and if you could have prevented it.  You couldn't have.  He said his time was up and this would have happened regardless."  That was the last thing I remember in my dream.
I would love to say this dream instantly cleared my head of all the toxic thoughts, I'm not completely "healed."  But it sure did ease my anxiety as we wait to hear the final report from the coroner.  Whatever happened, I feel in my heart that God had decided his time was up and nothing I could have done would have stopped it.  

3 months

Today marks 3 months since you went to be with Jesus.  I can't believe we've made it this far.  I worry about you up there.  You're just a baby and I'm so used to taking care of you.  I'm your mom so it's my job to worry.  I guess you're in the best hands I could ever ask for. 
Farrah talks about you all the time.... like all the time.  But I'm sure you already knew that.  She always tries to play with you.  She runs around the house saying you're chasing her.  She falls to the ground and says you knocked her down.  She says you wake her up at night so you two can play.  I didn't realize it was possible to warm my heart and break my heart at the same time. 
There's not much to say on this day other than we miss you terribly and love you to heaven and back.