Happy Birthday Melissa

Dear Melissa,
Can you believe tomorrow is your birthday? You would have been five years old. That is hard for me to believe.

I wanted to write you a letter today, because I know tomorrow will be crazy. We will celebrate the big day with Ann Catherine. She is so excited about turning five!

Oh Melissa, I wish so badly that you could know her. Don't get me wrong - I know you know her. I just wish you could spend each day next to her. She is such an amazing little girl. She has such a kind, compassionate heart. She talks about you often. She knows that she is a twin and that you are in Heaven. That's really all her five-year-old mind can process now. We continue to pray for wisdom that God will give us the answers to her questions. I know He will, as the time comes.

Lily Baker is just a trip. She is one of the funniest people I have ever known. I call her my rainbow, Melissa. After all of the sadness and pain surrounding your death, she was the rainbow that God sent to us to let us know it was going to be okay. She came after the storm and I don't know what I would have done without her.

In November, the Melissa George Neonatal Memorial Fund will celebrate five years. Would you believe that we will hit the one million dollar mark in money raised this summer?! That's one million dollars in donations that have been used to purchase life-saving equipment and bereavement items for the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit at Huntsville Hospital for Women & Children. Your daddy and I don't take one ounce of credit for this. It is all God. To be honest with you, your daddy wanted to start the fund soon after you died and I told him no. I just didn't think there was any way I could relive your death over and over. But, to his credit, he never let up and I eventually prayed and told God if this was His will for our lives, then He was going to have to take over and do it because I couldn't. And He has. Without Him, we wouldn't have been able to do any of this.

Melissa, we have met some of the most amazing people through our involvement with your fund. We have met parents who have also lost children, people we probably never would have known. We have met doctors and nurses, most of whom took care of you and your sister in the NICU. And we have met grateful NICU parents who have graciously jumped on board to help babies and their parents in our NICU. I am so in awe of all of these people and so grateful to them all for their help.

I miss you every minute of every day. If you had told me five years ago that one of my children would have died before me, I would not have believed it. Your death - and life - changed me profoundly. There was the Amy before you were born, and the Amy after. I will never be the same. When you took your last breath on June 1st, 2005, a part of me died too.

The amazing part is that all of me didn't die. Soon after your death, I felt as if I had. I cried constantly and didn't want to get out of bed. I couldn't imagine going back into the world. How in the world did people expect me to ever laugh again when my child, my own flesh and blood and my heart, wasn't here anymore? It just seemed so ridiculous.

But now I see my life, and I realize that we did survive. I do laugh, Melissa. I laugh at your crazy father, I laugh at AC and LB and I think "what a gift!" As we sang in church Sunday morning, I thanked God that our family was okay. I thanked Him that I could stand in church and sing, that I could see and feel his mercies and his love, and that I know, without a doubt, that your death wasn't meant to hurt us. In fact, I know that God had a greater plan.

It doesn't mean I miss you any less. And given the chance, I would want you right here with us. But I know that isn't possible. So all I know to do is keep living. I realized not long after you died that that was the greatest way I could carry on your legacy. If you could no longer be here - if you couldn't live - then it was up to me to live every day of my life to the fullest.

My eyes are filled with tears as I think of how much I miss you. I hope you know that and I hope you know that your daddy and I did everything humanly possible to keep you here with us. But it wasn't our call.

I also know you are so happy. And you are well and whole, something that probably wouldn't have happened for you here on this Earth. You are perfect.

And I know you are here with us. When you first died, I had this mental picture of Jesus holding you and rocking you. As Ann Catherine has grown, I have this new picture of you. On each of our special occasions, I have this picture of Jesus pulling up a chair for you so you can look down and share in our happiness. I think He'll do that for you tomorrow. Of course after your most amazing birthday party up there!

Being your mommy is one of my greatest joys I have ever experienced, and I thank God for choosing me. I will never forget the moments we spent together before you were born and I will never forget holding you as you passed from my arms into God's. I thank Him for allowing me to be there, because I know some mothers don't get that chance.

Happy Birthday, my sweet angel. And know that one day, I will be there to celebrate your birthday with you. Until then, please continue to watch over us and send your love to us. We feel it every day.

I love you more than you'll ever know,

Your Mommy

Four Weeks Later

We finished swim lessons this weekend. I am very happy with how it all went!

By AC's last lesson, her instructor was throwing dive sticks in the shallow end and she was going underwater to get them. She is swimming underwater without any reservations and loves it.

LB did good too. She's not swimming by any means, but she's not quite as fearful. That was one of my goals. She also learned how to kick and do other things and isn't afraid to go underwater anymore.

Now it's time for us to hit the pool and put it all into action!

Sweet Friends

When you get older, you have a choice in who your friends are.

When you are 4 & 3, not so much.

Except for your preschool friends, your friends are usually the children of your mommy and daddy's friends. You are all thrown together, like it or not, because your parents are friends.

Luckily, in this case, it worked.



That's Reid, Annalyse, Riley, LB, AC and Lucy. Reid and Riley belong to our friends Ken and Jammie and Annalyse and Lucy belong to Brooke and Nathan (who also claim the precious Charlotte in the post below).

Aren't they sweet? Jammie snapped this picture the other night while we all went fishing in the lake near our homes and I absolutely love it! Poor Reid - he's the only boy! Our kids have actually gone from playing next to each other (as they did in the beginning) to playing together.

We all live in the same neighborhood, attend the same church and are in the same small group at church - which means when we meet on Sunday nights, the kids get together too. They have no choice but to be friends :)

The other night they all came over to roast marshmellows and make smores in our backyard. So much fun!







My prayer is that my girls will be blessed with good friends as they grow. So far, they're off to a pretty good start. :)

My Big Helper

I didn't have a "big kid helper" when Lily Baker was born.

Ann Catherine was only 17-months-old. She had just started walking, and still ate in a highchair. In essence, I had two babies for a while.

But I realized this week that if LB had been born now, AC would be a HUGE help!

Tuesday we watched Charlotte, my friend Brooke's baby. She is absolutely precious. And she LOVED Ann Catherine. (LB was napping for most of the visit.) Charlotte's two sisters are actually AC and LB's ages, but Brooke split them up and sent them to our friend Jammie's house. So we just had Charlotte.





It was so fun having a baby around. And AC was so much help, running to get Charlotte a blanket, baby dolls and other toys. She even helped me feed her and if Charlotte started to cry, AC would jump up and dance. Of course, AC is such a mommy anyway so I wasn't at all surprised.

While we were feeding Charlotte AC said, "Mommy, I wish we had a baby sister" to which I replied, "Tell your daddy that when he gets home."

She did, and he answered, "Just pretend Charlotte is your baby sister."

Ha - that funny guy. I could have told AC that would have been his response.

But it was much more fun watching her put him on the spot. :)

On Any Given Day...

...at our house, you can open the door and find this:



a beautiful princess.


Then two minutes later, you hear that beautiful princess say,

"Mommy, can I squish that bug?!"

and

"Sissy, come look at my poopy!"

All of which happened in the span of two minutes at our home today.

Don't let that princess dress fool you. Lily Baker is one cool kid.

The Graduate

"This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine," they sang as they marched into the room wearing their blue gowns, blue hats and gold tassels bearing the year "2010."

It was one of the sweetest things I've ever seen.

Ann Catherine graduated from preschool Thursday. These almost-five years have flown by. And nothing makes you realize that like seeing your child walk across the stage in her graduation gown.

Walk.

There was a time, as Chris and I sat by her bed in NICU, that we wondered if she would ever walk. Or talk. Or run. Or play.

Yet here she is. Leaving behind this first stage of childhood and getting ready to enter a new one.

Yes, most of the parents - and grandparents - at graduation shed a tear. But Chris and I carried a certain heaviness in our hearts on this day.

This milestone in Ann Catherine's life also brings a realization that Melissa isn't here.

In our mind's calendar, this day has been circled for a long time. We've known it was coming. And for all the happiness and joy that would accompany it, we've known it would also be bittersweet.

You see, when you lose a twin, you don't just grieve the loss of that child. You grieve what you had imagined, what you had hoped for, what you had envisioned for your family. I remember shortly after Melissa died, Chris told me, "I can't get this picture out of my mind of the two of us sitting at our dinner table, both of us holding a baby and trying to eat." You grieve the realization that the things you had dreamed of will never happen.

Instead of your two children standing side by side at graduation, there's only one. And that's why I knew this day would be tough.

And while I knew I would carry some sadness with me, I so badly wanted this day to be full of joy. To be about Ann Catherine. To be a day where we celebrated the miracle of her life.

As I drove to graduation, my heart started beating heavily. I was praying the whole way, but at one point, I felt my heart was going to leap out of my chest. So I called my friend Brooke, and she prayed with me. Among other things, she asked God that this would be a day of joy for me and Chris. That had been my same prayer all week. I wanted this to be a happy, wonderful occasion.

God is so faithful. Because after we prayed, I felt a calmness - a peace that it was going to be okay.

And it was.

As Ann Catherine marched out, I was beaming with so much love, pride, joy and happiness that I could barely stand it. There was absolutely no sadness.

She sang her heart out. She walked across the stage like a big kid, shook hands with Mrs. Amy and accepted her diploma. It was absolutely precious. And I enjoyed every minute of it.

As she marched out, I did begin to cry. And I had this overwhelming feeling that I had to get to her. I needed so badly to put my arms around her, hug her and let her know how much I loved her. We filed out into the lobby and we found her. After Chris, Lily Baker and Mimi and Poppy hugged her, it was my turn. I grabbed her, hugged her, and through my tears, I told her that I was so proud of her and that I loved her more than she would ever know.

The best part of all? I did enjoy Ann Catherine's graduation. It wasn't a time of sadness. It was a time of joy. I didn't dwell on Melissa's death. I celebrated Ann Catherine's life.

I learned something else on this day. During tough times like these, I realize how badly I need Lily Baker. She's like a life preserver to me, keeping me afloat when the storm waters rise. After we dropped Ann Catherine off at school that morning, she came home with me and we got ready together. I can't tell you how much it helped me, just to have her with me. On this emotional morning, I wasn't alone. I had her.

As God has shown me so many times over the last four years, I am so blessed. Yes, I have experienced great loss. But I have also experienced tremendous joy.

Thanks to God's love and mercy, Ann Catherine's graduation was one of those days.


Accepting her diploma


Marching down the aisle


AC and her teacher, Ms. Sharon


Lily Baker with Mimi and Poppy


Class of 2010





After graduation, we went to AC's favorite place in town - Peggy Ann Bakery - for some thumbprint cookies and petits fours.




Once we arrived home from Red Robin, the girls wanted to send their balloons to Melissa.



Here's LB watching hers float to the Heavens.




And let me tell you, as we watched them float into the clear, blue sky it did look like they were going to Heaven. We watched them until they were no longer in sight. And you know what?

I'm not so sure Melissa didn't get them.

Another Year

Today I celebrated another glorious year of living.

When Chris got home tonight, I told him I realized something about birthdays today. As you get older, they lose a little pizazz.

Oh, don't get me wrong. I had a wonderful birthday. LB started off my day by crawling into my bed this morning and snuggling with me. My precious Ann Catherine woke up and the first words out of her mouth were, "Happy Birthday, Mommy!" I couldn't believe she remembered!

But here's the funny thing. Remember when you were little and you thought the world revolved around your birthday? You grow up and realize that even though it's your big day, it's still just that - a day. A day to run errands. A day to buy groceries. A day to get the kids where they need to be. The world keeps turning and you still have things to do.

Maybe it's because it was on a Monday this year, but I laughed as I told Chris about my exciting day. First LB and I dropped AC off at school. Then we ran a laundry list of errands, including the grocery store, the bank and the cleaners. After we picked up AC, we went to gymnastics.

Once we got home, I looked at my dirty floors and realized they needed to be vacuumed. At first I thought, "I am not vacuuming on my birthday!" Then I realized I couldn't stand the dirt any longer, and broke out my vacuum.

I vacuumed the house on my birthday.

Riveting, isn't it?

Once Chris got home, he and the girls took me to Rosie's where we had dinner and they gave me my gifts. It was great! And the rest of my day was great, too. It's just funny because birthday or no birthday, you still have things you gotta do.

And in the end, none of that really matters. Because my birthday means that God gave me another year to be a wife to my wonderful husband and a mommy to two little girls that I am absolutely crazy about.

And that's what makes this day special.