My Favorite Lullaby

I sing to my children. All day, every day. We sing funny songs, silly songs, loud songs, and songs about Jesus.  I also sing them the same song every night at bedtime (and sometimes at nap time). It's a song my mom sang my whole life and I've never forgotten:

The Lord will see you walking and He will hear you talking

Talking to your* angels in the sky 

And when you'll know he's near you the Lord will always hear 

you 

Talking to your* angels in the sky. 

Talk to the angels let them hear your plea 

Tell them that you're lonely 

Get down upon your knees 

And pray the Lord will bless you. 

*The song says "the" but we sing "your"

It's a short song with a beautiful melody. When I sing it, I hear my mother's beautiful soprano voice, not my tired one. I sang this song to Scotlin and Kayden when I held them in my hospital beds. {I actually whispered it between sobs}, but in those quiet moments I hoped that eventually I would have children here on earth to sing it to and that the angels in the song would be the brothers that sent them to our family from Heaven. 

With the back-to-school buzz all around me (schools here haven't started yet), I can't help but think about my tiny 6 lb Scotlin who should be starting Kindergarten this year. All those years ago, I though about the milestones that I would miss and the potential heartache that would ensue. Luckily, I was expecting it, but it's different than I thought it would be. I thought I would be angry that I was robbed of these life-events with my angel boys; but, I don't feel any anger. I just feel sad. I feel sad that I don't get to buy his school supplies or pack his lunch or drop him off at school where he is glad to be rid of me but I bawl like a baby when he turns away. 

However, I take solace in my MiraColes. They are not consolation prizes. They are heavenly blessings that I can't imagine life without. I have very real and tangible reasons to teach them about the gospel of Jesus Christ and the Plan of Salvation. Mira and Cole will always know who their celestial cheerleaders are!

Wrapped in a Blanket

Evan came home from his audition rotations for the weekend. He had been gone 6 weeks and has 6 more to go, but I guess he couldn't stand being away from us, so he came for a visit. :) We loved having daddy home and it was such a great weekend! (and I got some much-needed housework done!)

While Evan was here, he told me all about his rotation in Michigan and how much he loved it! The residents, the attendings, the academics, the hospital-he raved about it all. Then, somberly, he started to tell me about an instance that I've been thinking a lot about ever since:

While talking with another student, there were people standing in the hall joking and laughing around him. He noticed a man and a woman, both nurses, walking toward him. They had a different air about them. Ignoring the people laughing and talking, they walked through the hall. The man had what seemed like a bundle of blankets in his arms. Evan knew immediately what was inside. The other student said, "That looks like a baby." Evan said he turned toward her and said, "It is. They're going to the morgue." 

I cried for an hour after he told me about this experience. We talked for awhile about it and how it made each of us feel. It flooded memories into my mind of the hours I spent in my hospital rooms after handing my babies to nurses that I barely knew. Those nurses then walked through the halls of the hospital with my babies, wrapped up in blankets, and handed them to someone in the morgue. They were laid in a cold, sterile, metal room. They were examined. They were measured. Samples of their tissue were looked at under microscopes and sent off to labs. They were sent to the mortuary where they were laid in a box. My sweet babies were wrapped in blankets, where they have stayed ever since. 

I couldn't help but feel heartache for the family of that little baby. They were sitting in a room somewhere in that hospital feeling the same hurt and pain that still plagues me today. 

It's a good illustration of how the whole world buzzes around you when your world has come to an abrupt halt. You feel a deep, palpable, ache and you don't know how you're going to keep going. All the while, everyone around you continues on with their life. Eventually, you do too. It takes awhile, and the hurt returns when you don't expect it. Tears flow freely when you hear a mother calling to her son with the same name as yours. There are a few times a year when I pull out the box of Scotlin's and Kayden's things and crumple into a mass of tears as I look at their tiny handprints and the outfit still stained with blood. It sounds masochistic, but it has a healing power--to feel close to my sons when they aren't here. 

It's a sweet feeling to be able to pick up one of my MiraCole babies and snuggle them to help my heart feel better in these instances. I know that I am a very blessed mother. I thank my Father in Heaven every day for my babies, the living ones and the angel ones.  And when I climb into bed at night, after putting the kids to bed, I realize that we're just one big, happy family-all wrapped in blankets.  

Growing Blessings

It's been 9 months since my last post and for good reason. I've been busy!!! I waited quite a while to have the beautiful sound of babies in my home and the honorable task of motherhood at my fingertips. It has been everything I hoped for and more. I know that I am a very blessed woman and that God's tender mercies have fallen on me in droves. For that, I am forever thankful.  I'd like to re-assert some of my efforts toward documenting our little life here and the wonderful changes that are happening for us. The tiny miracole (yes, when referencing Mira and Cole as miracles, I will purposefully mis-spell the word miracle) that I blogged about last is not so tiny anymore: 

They Grew!

And Grew!

And Grew!

And Grew!

And Grew!

And Grew!

And Grew!

And Grew!

And Grew!

And Grew!

And Grew!

And Grew!

And Grew!

And Grew!

And Grew!

And Grew!

And Grew!

And Grew!

And Grew!

And Grew!

And Grew!

And Grew!

And Grew!

And Grew!

And Grew!

And Grew!

And Grew!

And Grew!

And today, Cole is 20 lbs, 29 inches and So. Stinkin. Cute! He loves to sit on your lap and read books, but he does not like to be rocked to sleep. Mira is 17.5 lbs and 27 inches. She has quite a sassy little personality. She is my snuggler. She wraps her legs around my waist and lays her head on my chest and I just melt. When I'm out, people ask me how far apart in age they are. If I'm feeling snarky I say, "4 minutes". If I'm feeling nice I say, "They're twins". They play so well together and aren't getting into too much trouble yet. They walk along furniture and try to let go, but end up on their bums. They both babble and tell each other stories and then laugh and laugh. They play peek-a-boo with each other when they're in the stroller and they always get a kick out of it. 

I haven't documented much because...I just really bad at it. Mostly I'm just taking it all in and enjoying every second. I'm so happy to be a mommy and to have these little blessing in my home. Everyday is an adventure and I'm so excited for many many years of more adventures!

Much Love, 
Whit