It was the end of July, 2016. We had just finished our 28 day stay in the hospital and we were so happy to be home. On a whim, we had decided to take all 6 of our kids up the canyon on a hike….some would most likely call “Silver Lake” an easy mountain walk, but when you are carrying 3 babies, anything is considered a hike! We had all the backpacks and baby wearing gear, along with a freshly filled load of milk for Hayes’ tube. Nothing was getting in the way. We had day dreamed of days like this while being trapped within the 4 gray walls of the hospital. Read More
My friends like to joke that I go into hibernation in the winter. They aren’t that far off. I ran into one of my neighbors at the grocery store the other day and she really seemed shocked to see me. Almost like she hadn’t seen me all winter! But the truth of the matter is, I do the bare minimum in the winter. I don’t like being cold….I hate it! I don’t have a thyroid so when I feel cold, it is multiplied by 1000. I have the gift of feeling obnoxiously freezing all of the time. So I actually stay inside most of the winter. As a result of all of these factors, winter becomes my most dreaded and isolating time of year. Then there is the fact that winter stirs up all the emotions of when I lost my boy. I am not sure I will ever feel kindly towards that season. Read More
I remember when my giant of a man child, Bo was a baby. He was the first of my six kids and basically my “trial & error” child. He came out literally 10 pounds, not the figurative, “Yeah, my baby was huge. He was practically 10 pounds”. No, he was literally 10 pounds 0 ounces…to put that into perspective, he was 3X bigger than Reese was when she was born. He was so big that my siblings called him “Uncle Bo”. He was my stay puffed marshmallow man! As a result, Bo was hungry 126% of the time. Read More
I remember the day Hayes was given an official diagnosis so well. I was upstairs in my closet getting dressed when my phone rang. Read More
I have something to admit. Remember a few weeks ago when I said I had gained the courage to take Hayes’ crib down finally? Well, I have a confession, I just moved his crib to the opposite side of the room. I couldn’t bare to take it down so I just moved it in front of Heath’s closet. I literally had to shove it out of the way every time I needed to get clothes for Heath. So at least twice a day. But, I just couldn’t do it. The thought of taking it down felt like letting go of my baby. The guilt has been overwhelming. Read More
It was around 11:30 on Sunday night when I started to feel that all too familiar sting…the cyclical sting that comes on those special days and anniversaries. I realized that exactly 3 years before that very moment I had been getting prepped for my cesarean. I had unexpectedly gone into labor at 31 weeks 5 days with the triplets and my OB saw that my babies were coming whether I was ready or not. Read More
It was two years ago, right before the 5K and the babies first birthday. We were finishing up Hayes’ second round of chemo and I was still feeling naively optimistic. All I cared about was getting out of the hospital for the 5K and celebrating the babies. Hayes was sleeping in his hospital crib and I was sitting on the fold out plastic couch in my daily “uniform”….sweats. We were in the corner room of the cancer unit. There was a double door to get into our room and you couldn’t hear a sound. We were completely closed off from the world in our little corner that overlooked the Salt Lake Valley. Read More
The past few weeks, I lay my babies down for their daily naps and inevitably, they end up talking to each other under their doors across the halls. At first it is really sweet and then all hell breaks loose and Heath is kicking the door….laying on his back, pounding the door with his feet. Yesterday was another one of those days and I found myself feeling more and more angry with each loud kick of his door….sometimes I just need a break from my kids, I will be honest! So needless to say I was frustrated. Read More
You know that feeling of letdown after a vacation. Well ever since I lost Hayes, I dread that letdown even more because I come back home from a trip that was healing only to realize life is the same. Hayes isn’t here. So when we came home from our last trip to California this past month, the feeling was no different. I really was not looking to coming home.
After a long road trip home, we pulled up to our house and oddly enough, Steve didn’t pull into the driveway. He put a movie on in the car for the kids and told me he had something to show me in the house and he grabbed my hand and walked me into our seemingly empty house. He walked me up the stairs to our master bedroom and I opened the door to a magazine cover. No way was this our house!
I was completely beyond shocked! Our house was definitely not empty. A camera crew, producers and a few other people were stuffed into our bathroom ready to surprise us. And then the sweetest couple walked in behind us to give us a hug and formally present us with the gift they had given us! Two people I did not know had taken a week out of their lives to offer us a gift I so desperately needed….a sanctuary. They were Cara and Tom Fox. A couple that designs and builds the most beautiful homes you have ever seen. They had reached out to Steve to surprise me with this unforgettable gift.
I feel incredibly grateful and still blown away every time I walk into my room. The peace, the little #HayesHints and the beauty of the room has truly lifted me up. Thanks are of course in order to Cara and Tom of Fox Group Construction and Overstock for the gorgeous furnishings! You made my home feel more like home. So thank you!
I recently read the beginnings of a memoir by a 46 year old man that was diagnosed with endocrine cancer. As different as my situation is, I related so much to the cancer experience of this man. The journey from symptoms to discovery to diagnosis….I have walked that path. But as a mother as opposed to the patient, our paths diverged. As I read him describe his “painful” chemo cocktail of etoposide and cisplatin for 3-4 months, tears began to burn my eyes. Not only did Hayes have those exact “painful” chemo drugs, but he also had 8 more chemos over the course of his 8 Month protocol. My sweet 10 Month Old Baby was exposed to those same drugs and more. It was our only option, but as parents you do anything. You do anything to keep them safe and comfortable while at the same time, knowingly giving them poisons that nearly kill them, day after day. But that is our only hope. It is the only weapon we have to fight the monster that is just as relentless as we are.
Looking back over the battle we had, I realize that during that fight, I really didn’t recognize the magnitude of what we were facing. I was devastated and scared, but every day I clung to the hope that chemo would fix my baby. Having hope was the only thing I had control over and I unceasingly held onto it.
I remember so vividly what I was doing a year ago today. It was Halloween of 2016 and Hayes was Home. I woke up early, got my kids in their costumes and excitedly dressed my 3 babies in their themed carnival costumes. Life was beginning to “normalize” and I had nearly let go of all the fear of cancer I had accumulated over the past 8 months. Although Cancer was in the rear view mirror, a deep, hidden part of me knew I was forcing it away; running from the monster that would forever stalk us. But, I ignored it and I have no regrets about my denial…it allowed me to feel peace and happiness and joy which my family so desperately deserved. Life was blissfully naive for a few short months.
I feel like my life is mostly in black and white now. I still smile, my kids still smile and there is laughter. But, that rich deep feeling of life that is seen through saturated color is not felt very often anymore. I sat through my kids Halloween parade today and watched as my kids marched through the halls of their elementary school, proudly showing off their costumes and my babies danced to the Halloween music playing over the loud speaker. I smiled as the scenes unfolded before me, but then it hit, it always does, that Hayes should be here and the magic of another holiday vanishes. It is painful. Steve and I always smile for our kids, but deep down, we want to hide. Sleep away the winter that brings with it all the painful reminders of our sweet angel boy.
I don’t like to focus on the pain, I really don’t, but this is also our story. Life isn’t easy, unfortunately. But, in a strange juxtaposition, what gets me through these hard days is hope. Hope for a brighter future, hope for a happy tomorrow & most of all, hope that I will see my Hayesey again. Hope is what got me through that original fight and ironically, it gets me through my days without him now. I will continue to slap that smile on my face with a hope that one day it won’t be so forced. With hope that one day I will be able to have a life where Hayes is simply a warm, happy memory and not a painful reminder of loss in my heart. Until then, I hope.