Saying Goodbye

This is a hard post to write, coming after a difficult decision for our family.  We are moving.  There, I said it.  My heart is heavy and a bit broken, though I know this is what is best for our family.

Andrew has accepted a position with Pinnacle, the company he worked for the first 5 years we were married.  It's a family business, and we're both so excited for him to work for such a Christ centered company doing something he loves.  The struggle for me lies within the move itself.  We haven't been able to be as involved in Charlotte and our community as I would have liked, or even as much as we did when we first moved.  Years filled with loss, bed rest, and then isolation took that from us.  I pictured our lives here, close to the mountains and beach, close to family, with our kids playing in the parks I drove past daily, playing t-ball on the field near our home, dancing in the studio with the neighbors, swimming in our awesome neighborhood pool.  I pictured this long before we were actually able to have kids, and the image shattered when we lost Reagan.  We talked of moving then, of trying to run away and escape the broken dreams that haunted me.  But God graciously gave us Warren and Dean, and then Hannah.  And the life I pictured slowly started to take root.  Though it was always broken, though our family is never complete, I pictured our children growing up here.  We talked of moving closer to Charlotte, getting more involved in the NICU at the hospital, doing more of the speaking engagements.  Most of what I pictured could happen in just about any town...the sports, the parks, dance recitals.  The scenery might be different.  The weather might be hotter.  But the activity, the memories we could create, would all be very similar.

Here's the hard part: Reagan.  This is Reagan's home, her only home.  This is where her butterfly is painted on the wall, the only remnant of her nursery.  This is where I held her and loved her.  This is where I said goodbye.  That's it.  She only gets one home, and I'm leaving it.  And Reagan's Garden.  We started that organization to reach families specifically in Charlotte, so that no one would ever feel as alone or isolated as we did.  And now?  We'll continue the services, I'll still be making cards and NICU boxes.  Hurting families here in Charlotte will continue to receive all the same materials of support because this is Reagan's home and where my passion lies.  But I won't be able to really minister to these hurting families, to potentially meet up with them for coffee, to hear face-to-face about their little ones gone too soon.  My passion, my heart, is still in this community.  I pray it will one day grow to include communities in Florida, and I trust that it will.  But in the mean time, I still feel like I'll always have one foot in Charlotte where our eldest daughter lived.

So, you ask, how can you support us?  We are in need of prayers - prayers for my heart as I leave this town, prayers for our family as we transition, and prayers for Reagan's Garden - that we would be able to find willing families to run support dinners, that we would continue to be able to grow and support families in Charlotte, that I would be able to keep up with making the cards and boxes so that no one goes without simply because we are not local anymore.  I want Reagan's memory to live on here, I want her life to continue to be impactful, I want to help families find hope amidst the loss and despair after suffering the death of their child.  It will be difficult, but I must trust that God can work out all the details.

October 15

Today is national Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day.  Two years ago, it was simply October 15.  I never knew there was such a day to remember babies gone too soon.  I would have thought most people wouldn't either.  But here's the thing, 1 in 4 pregnancies don't make it.  ONE in FOUR.  That is such a huge number that I think most of us have been touched in some way or another by loss.  Often these are early miscarriages, which for some reason most people don't talk about.  Maybe it's easier to hide the pain?  Maybe it's awkward to mention the miscarriage before you've told anyone about the pregnancy.  Our whole world knew we were doing IVF beforehand and I had countless people messaging me to find out if we were pregnant before we even knew ourselves so I never got to keep pregnancy a secret.  (Though I realize we are not at all the norm!)  For all our friends who have gone through miscarriage, I am so sorry.  I'm sorry you lost a child too.  I'm heartbroken you did not get to fulfill the dreams you had for your child from the moment you learned of his/her existence.  And I'm sorry you did not get an opportunity to hold them.  I would have once thought that would have been easier, to lose a child earlier in the pregnancy.  I now know that it is just different.

  Today, on October 15, we remember Reagan and our time with her, those precious hours we got to spend holding her.  We are honoring her memory today by launching Reagan's Garden to help provide support to other families who have experienced similar loss.  We'll be participating in the balloon release tonight, along with thousands of others across the country.  What a beautiful way to remember those we have lost.  We each will get a purple balloon and let it fly.  But this year, we'll also release a blue balloon for Reagan's twin and her cousin, who are playing in heaven with her now.  Their lives were so incredibly brief, but no less significant.  They don't get a birthday to celebrate.  We have no memories to recall.  But today, we honor them too.

The national balloon release occurs at 7PM, no matter your time zone.  This helps to create a continuous wave of balloons released across the country.  However, because it's nearly dark here at that time and our boys are typically in bed, we'll be releasing at 6PM.  We'd love for any and all to join us!  If you do, please send me and email or post the picture to Reagan's Garden FB page.  I'd love to put a collection together!

Reagan's Garden

So many people after Reagan was born asked us how they could help.  What could they do?  For the past two years, my answer has always been "nothing."  There was no tangible way of helping us, of honoring Reagan. Our hearts ached for other families going through the same loss, parents not able to bring their children home, but we had no way of helping them either.  We've prayed about it, and God has answered our prayers.  And now we'd like to ask you for your support...to physically give of your time, resources, and talents.

Andrew and I have talked about how we can support families experiencing infant loss and increase awareness of stillbirth and prematurity once we were thrust into both of these situations.  We felt extremely isolated and confused in both situations in two very different ways.  Since leaving the NICU, we have learned of several support options available to families during their NICU stay and a few other amazing projects being launched now.  However, infant loss support is still sorely lacking.  After talking with several people and spending much time in prayer, we are moving forward with the launch of Reagan's Garden.  We are have been so blessed by Reagan's short life and how God has used that to mold and shape us into different people.  We are excited to see where God will take this and our desire to support families in Charlotte experiencing infant loss.  The "about us" appears below, but check out our website here!  Please consider donating to support the families in our region, offering artistic talents to help us make cards, or helping us assemble boxes to deliver to women who lose babies in the NICU.

When a woman delivers a healthy child, she receives flowers and balloons.  Ribbons announcing name and weight are placed on the door.  Balloons are hung on the mailbox.  And a never ending, revolving door of visitors arrive bringing food, flowers, and congratulations.  But when your child is born not breathing, when your child will only live a few minutes to a few hours, there is silence.  No one knows how to respond, whether to call or not, what to say.  It is for this very reason we started Reagan’s Garden.

Reagan’s Garden is a non-profit fund through Novant Health Foundaition that provides tangible support to families in the Charlotte, NC region who will not be bringing their child home.  The child may be born not breathing, may pass away during or immediately after delivery, or may pass away in the NICU.  Each family is sent beautiful flowers and a handmade card.  It’s not much, it does not take away their grief, but it provides encouragement and a beautiful reminder that their baby is just that…their child.  Our daughter, Reagan Catherine, was stillborn in October 2012.  It was the hardest and most difficult thing we ever experienced, a pain no one understands unless they have been there too.  And yet, holding your child, you are still filled with a love, you still want to celebrate their life, however brief.  Reagan’s Garden hopes to encourage parents in labor and recovery to do just that, to take in every second you have with your child.  It is our mission to ensure each mother, no matter their circumstances or support network, receives a bouquet and card for their hospital room, a tiny but tangible gift to remind them their child matters and should be celebrated.

Infants born prematurely or with complications face a potentially extensive NICU time.  For us, this ended after 3 months with 2 baby boys at home.  Not everyone has experience and not everyone will be bringing their child home.  Reagan’s Garden also seeks to send these families flowers and a decorated box providing encouragement and Biblical hope.

Infant loss is devastating, but we were not made to go through this journey alone. Reagan’s Garden hopes to hold regular support dinners in Charlotte to unite parents with a network of people to talk with.  These informal gatherings will provide a safe place for parents to talk about their children with those who have walked a similar journey, celebrating the moments we had with our children, and grieving all we will miss.  Our goal is that no one would feel alone or isolated after loss.