Thinking About You

Dearest Sonne --

Not a day passes where we do not think about you and how much you brought to our lives.  This was especially true on Christmas.  Oh how we longed to experience your first Christmas with you.  We yearned to see your eyes light up with wonder at the twinkling lights on the tree.

And yet, despite how much we missed you, we felt such peace and joy at having known you and at having had you in our lives, even for such a short time.

You are the angel watching over us, shining your light upon us.

You are forever with us and for that we are grateful.

On Boxing Day (the day after Christmas) we went sailing on Sleeper (that's the boat your daddy races on).  Morgen spent the bulk of the trip nursing and sleeping.  I imagine you would have done the same which would have posed quite the challenge for me seeing as nursing you both in tandem was tricky enough on dry land.  Of course, daddy and I would have figured something out.  One thing is for certain, both daddy and I felt you with us that day.  Oh how you would have loved sailing!

Tomorrow your daddy and I are going down to the South Coast Botani Garden where we held your memorial.  We are having a memorial bench installed at the garden and tomorrow we will tour the grounds to find the perfect location.

Always know how much we love you and how much joy you brought and still bring to our lives.

xoxo...Mommy.

The Holidays

Dearest Sonne --

The holidays are upon us.

Thanksgiving just passed and, while it was a lovely holiday, it was always very difficult.  Daddy and I have been missing you more and more each day it seems.  And now Christmas is right around the corner.  

We are trying to stay positive.  We are trying to enjoy your sister and how much she's changing.  We are trying.

We put up the Christmas Tree over the weekend.  I managed to drop one of the pink bootie ornaments.  Your father started to cry.  I did to, but I also had to pick up the glass since Cole was laying where it broke and was surrounded by little shards.  We cried a lot that afternoon.  We were given a sun ornament for you.  Daddy hung it on the tree in the perfect place.  We see it every day.

Morgen seems to really like the lights on the tree.

She's changing so much.  It's amazing to watch.  We keep wondering what you would be doing now had you survived your surgery. 

It's tough.

I feel really disconnect from people these days.  Not the family, but from friends.  It feels like people don't know what to say or do around me, so people are just avoiding me.  That's makes me sad.

Wow...my iTunes just started playing "Good Day Sunshine."  I don't know how that happened as my phone was updating and I wasn't playing any music.  How that song used to bring us such joy as we would sing "Morgen Sonne" instead of the actual lyrics.

Your Aunt Kristine wrote a book for your sister.  It's called "Good Day Sunshine" and it's about you.  It's a lovely book.

Oh how we miss you so.

xoxo...Mommy.

Your Story Continues

My Dearest Sonne --


You daddy received an email this morning from his childhood friend Jay.  Jay is the strength and conditioning coach for the men's lacrosse team at Johns Hopkins University.  This is the same university where the BT Shunt was developed -- the correction for one of your heart defects.  The story of the development of this surgical procedure was turned into a movie that your daddy produced.


Jay, who Morgen knows as Uncle Jay because he's like a brother to your daddy, sent the following email this morning:

Wanted to send you this picture.  We (Hopkins) are honoring / playing for Sonne this year.  We always talk to the guys about being a family.  You, Ali, Morgan and Sonne are part of mine so Coach P didn't hesitate when I asked him to do this.

 Thank you Uncle Jay.  


Daddy and I teared up at this gesture.  It means so much to know that your memory continues on.  And, while most of Johns Hopkins don't know who you are, it's a fitting place for your story go continue.


GO BLUE JAYS!!!!


xoxo

Saying Goodbye

My darling Sonne...


A year ago today I learned I was pregnant.  Your daddy knew in his heart it was twins.  In fact, when we learned that was the case on November 17th he looked at me and said, "I told you so."  He so very much wanted twin girls and we received the two very best twin girls you could imagine.


Over the weekend we went out on Curlew to say goodbye to you.  We were surrounded by family and friends and it was good.  It was also really sad.  Before we left I said to your daddy, "I think I should stay here.  I don't want to do this.  I don't want her to be gone."  Of course, that wasn't actually an option.  I would not have stayed behind on shore.


Everyone who came loved you very much.  Those who spoke did so from the heart.  I think I was moved the most by your daddy and your Aunt Jenna.  


Daddy talked about our family traditions of returning the ashes of loved ones to the sea or earth.  In fact, you are being buried both at sea and back at Opa's Hill.  We will have two very special places where we can always be with you.  Of course, since you are a part of me, you are always with me.


Aunt Jenna spoke about being sad for us and how awful the situation truly is, but she also said how glad she was to know that you knew only love in your 109 days.  And despite how sad we are, she talked about choosing happiness.  It is so hard some mornings to do that, but we try every day.  


We are trying to move on and at the same time remember everything about you.  Oh how I love your smile and if I try sometimes, I can still imagine holding you in my arms or you nursing and looking at me with those beautiful blue eyes.  You were always so alert and engaged with the world.  You were always smiling.  You were and will always be loved by us.


We miss you, baby girl.


All my love...Mommy

Today...

Today has been tough.

I started the day with a voice mail from Apria Healthcare.  It's the company from which we rented your heart monitor.  Apparently it was never returned and, not surprisingly, Cigna will not cover the cost of it any longer.  I know your cardiologist offered to return it as a courtesy to us, but to find out it had yet to be returned surprised me.  Had I know this was going to happen, I would have dealt with it myself.

Anyhow...dealing with that situation was really tough.  I found myself wanting to yell at these people and reminding myself that yelling wouldn't do any good.  They didn't intentionally drop the ball and they certainly aren't responsible for your death.

I told your daddy that I'm tired of dealing with the business of your death.  I just want to be able to grieve your loss.  I'm not able to simply grieve when I have to deal with insurance companies and medical supply companies and funeral homes and social security.

And I still need to figure out what do to with the double jogging stroller.  

I just want to get to a place where I can be at peace and remember how amazing you were and smile.

We miss you sweet pea.

Love...Mommy

Missing You

My darling Sonne --


I've been missing you something fierce the past few days.  Maybe it's because you've been gone over a month and suddenly it feels like it was just yesterday we said goodbye.  Maybe it's because I go back to work tomorrow and I'm scared that once I get so busy, I'll start to forget you.  That the little things which I can hold onto now, will more quickly slip away.


I expect things to fade over time. That's to be expected, but I'm not ready to have you fade from my mind, only to be reminded of things on rare occasions or to be caught off guard by something Morgen does that is distinctly "Sonne."  It's too soon for that.


When your Opa died nearly 13 years ago, I wanted to move on as quickly as possible.  To leave the paid behind.  I had 25 years with him and so many memories.  In my head I can still hear his voice.  It is all so easy to recall.


You were only with us for 109 days.  I want so much to go back in time to just have another day with you.  I just want to hold you in my arms one more time, to tell you that I love you and that I'll always be with you because you are always with me in my heart.  To tell you that everything is okay and that I know it's okay because I'm the mommy and the mommy knows these things.


Your sister is taking good care of us.  She reminds us of how much love there is in the world and every once in a while we catch a glimpse of her and she looks like you.


She's a good baby.  She's growing up and changing so much, so fast.  I fear one day we will look at her and we will no longer see you there because you'll forever be our little little.


I miss you my sunshine.  With all my heart.  And I love you endlessly.


xoxo...mommy.

Your Smiling Face

My darling Sonne --

Your daddy, sister and I are making a point to spend time out and about every weekend.  Time out in the sun.  A couple of weeks ago we spent the day walking along the boardwalk between Santa Monica and Venice.  You would have enjoyed it.  The sun was shining, the air crisp, a gentle breeze blowing...

This past weekend your daddy, sister and I were joined by Dan and Teri.  We walked up to the NoHo Taco Cook Off.  There were a bunch of food trucks and we ate lots of tasty things.  Again, the sun was shining...

We also picked up the different pictures of you which were framed for your memorial.  We have pictures of you sleeping, with your fist raised, yawning, crying with your sister and smiling.  My favorite picture of you was enlarged and framed beautifully and it now hangs over the piano.

Every day we can see you smiling at us.  Such a happy face, so full of joy and life.

Sometimes I look at your picture and smile.  Sometimes I cry a little.  Always I blow you a kiss and whisper "I love you baby girl."

I will love you always....Mommy

Your Memorial

My dearest Sonne --


We held your memorial this past Saturday at the South Coast Botanic Garden.  It was a beautiful, sunny day.  The morning threatened rain, but your sunshine broke through the clouds.  There was a light breeze as well making the air crisp and fresh.


So many friends helped prepare for the service.  Pictures of you were printed and displayed on a table at the entrance to the amphitheater.  There was a sign in book with your name embossed on the cover and to this array we added the your photo album and a few of your favorite books.


The Gypsy Kings played as people arrived and once it appeared as though all had taken their seats, we started the celebration of your life.  Those we asked to participate did so with great poise.  They spoke from their hearts.  They spoke with compassion.  There were many tears, but also some laughter.  Throughout a lone butterfly flitted amongst those gathered.  A few of us noticed and couldn't help to think of you coming to witness this event.


Dr. Tim came.  I think he is truly baffled that your surgery did not turn out better.  I feel a great deal of compassion for him as I know he was looking forward to years of being your cardiologist.  Dr. Jeremy had wanted to attend but a family commitment kept him away.  And, of course, many of your favorites from the NICU were there: Mama Flo, Sharlyn, Michelle, Dawn and Joan.  Joan who cared for you from the moment you were born.  And also Jen who cared for me just after you were born when we learned about your heart conditions.


So many colleagues of your dad's were there, as well as mine.  Almost my entire department made it out to celebrate you.  Only a wedding kept one away.  And Dani who so adored spending time with you was there with her husband.


And of course, Oma and Opa were there.  Oma shed a lot of tears.  She misses you dearly.


There are so many more I should mention, but I know some names are escaping me as I write this.  All in all I think close to seventy people came out to celebrate you -- most of whom had yet to meet you in person but had come to know you through the pictures and postings of your father and myself.


I think my favorite moment came at the very end.  "Amazing" by One eskimO was played and while your dad and I held Morgen and sang and danced ever so slightly with one another, eventually everyone got up and joined us.  It started with your Auntie O and Uncle Matthew and moved through the gathering in a wave.  Dancing and clapping and tears of sorrow and joy.  As the lyrics say, "It's in the stars, it's in the sun.  It's everywhere and everyone and it will be everyday.  From now on, from now on we are one.  And it's amazing."


Perfection.


I made it through the day fairly well.  I read "Olivia" to you during the service and didn't break down.  While others cried, I consoled them.  I was okay on Saturday.


Afterwards many of us met up at a brewery to laugh and cry some more.  It was a healing, albeit exhausting day.  And you were there with us.


Sunday, however, was filled with tears.  So many tears.  I know people say it gets easier with time, but I don't think that's correct -- it gets different with time.  One day we will think of you and simply be filled with the pure joy of knowing you, as opposed to the pain of losing you so soon.  One day we will look at your red puppy and laugh, as opposed to our eyes brimming with tears.  One day things will simply be different because enough time will have passed and we will have healed from this shock.


Until then we will do our best to carry on.


Love...Mommy

meine Sonne

My darling Sonne --

The sun has been shining down upon us every day since you passed.  We could not be more grateful and yet we long to hold you one more time.  To see you smile at us.  To watch you sleep.

The nights are the most difficult for me. 

I wake to feed and change your sister.  It's a simple routine I've done for months, but it's different now.  You are missing.  I would love to play the baby trade game with your father so he could change one diaper while I nurse one baby or to surround myself with pillows in order to nurse you and Morgen at the same time.

And while there is joy in caring for your sister, there is sorrow.  I would give up almost anything to have you on my breast again.  I so loved to watch you nurse.  You were always so alert; watching me with your eyes shining.

We are distraught.  We are angry.  We are confused.  At times we are numb.  Mostly we are sad.  It isn't fair that you should be gone so soon.  You barely got to experience life and so much of the time you were with us was spent in the hospital.  We know in our hearts that we did everything we could to make you happy and healthy.  We know that the doctors and nurses who cared for you did the same.  It doesn't stop us from wondering what else we could have done.  Had we done anything differently would you still be with us today?

We know the answer to that question is no.  There is no reason why you are gone.  Nothing else could be done to save you, but I imagine your father and I will ask that question of ourselves every day for the rest of our lives.

We love you so much.  You are our sunshine.  You are our baby girl.  Our little little.  Our sweet pea.  Our button.  Our Sonne.

We will keep you in our hearts always.

Love...Mommy.