tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21938126484785202752023-11-16T08:16:23.426-08:00Remembering Brady and Ben- Surviving a Double Loss in a Triple BlessingThe Butlershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02401753054906219221noreply@blogger.comBlogger33125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193812648478520275.post-67035914771364922682015-07-17T12:52:00.003-07:002015-07-17T12:54:52.448-07:00Seven Years Later...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZnHuPC41dwV-qwdTi6YFI5o1NESBOSzVGvmxigr62IWwzFMtS6GVVdTuyMjuWtj6KSe5BUObpfCY88FdzTLn5coLm9cCmDSFD0ihTsc4hDgYNfUWZQCS9Ag8n57Hld4IWaVMlGwllY0E/s1600/together-we-will-walk-this-journey-shawn-hughes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZnHuPC41dwV-qwdTi6YFI5o1NESBOSzVGvmxigr62IWwzFMtS6GVVdTuyMjuWtj6KSe5BUObpfCY88FdzTLn5coLm9cCmDSFD0ihTsc4hDgYNfUWZQCS9Ag8n57Hld4IWaVMlGwllY0E/s320/together-we-will-walk-this-journey-shawn-hughes.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">Seven years later the pain is not so raw<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">It is always there but not so suffocating<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">I go about my life in a completely normal fashion<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">No one who meets me would ever know<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">I have had many happy days and memories since then<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">Days and memories that I know would have been so different
with you here<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">But every once in a while the wounds must breathe<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">Alone in my car, in a bathroom stall, in a doctor’s office…<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">I have cried in them all<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">I still have days when I pull out your chest in my closet and
go through everything in it<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">I relive the entire experience and let the tears flow<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">Then I fold it neatly back up, put it away, wash my face, and
get on with my day<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">I am not crazy<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">I am not depressed<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">I am simply a mother who buried two of her babies<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">And as long as I live I will have days or moments like that<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">And that is okay<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">I have accepted that now<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">Your brother brings me much joy here on earth and asks so
many questions about you<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">I will show him your stuff one day<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">But for now it is just for me in my closet and for those
moments when I need to relive it a little<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: large;">Seven years later I am better but never again completely
whole until I see you again...<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
The Butlershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02401753054906219221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193812648478520275.post-664843154925226192013-03-28T14:01:00.003-07:002013-03-28T14:01:33.455-07:00March<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Every March the world welcomes spring</div>
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And all of the warmth and colors it brings</div>
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Blooms awaken from their winter rest</div>
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Birds chirp and ready their nest</div>
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The sun lingers a little longer each day</div>
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Kids are emerging and beginning to play</div>
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The world comes alive and fills with glee</div>
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But this is not what March means to me</div>
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For me it brings the anniversary of a death</div>
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The anniversary of the day my baby took his last breath</div>
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The marking of another year since I last saw his face</div>
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The remembrance of a dark time and place</div>
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Another year to wonder what he would be today</div>
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Another year when no one will know what to say</div>
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Some will be afraid to mention your name to me</div>
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Others will offer some form of sympathy</div>
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March….a month that I must get through each year</div>
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Time marches on I guess….even without you here</div>
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The Butlershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02401753054906219221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193812648478520275.post-53291861424173171992013-03-28T13:31:00.002-07:002013-03-28T13:34:17.166-07:00The Ending of the Beep<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEHyaFz5q3E7zLa_9DbQ6gDaeZLO9HxQ3u-q3_R5v1F7HpEfywaOmH-zRIlem6e3Tl5QBKUwHtNK7C-sCFWhr6BRBTTAVNw4MKS2Iy7EPPUGXyuJ1DAlH6rHwDqecbTvFySsu-onIK4_E/s1600/picture-0.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEHyaFz5q3E7zLa_9DbQ6gDaeZLO9HxQ3u-q3_R5v1F7HpEfywaOmH-zRIlem6e3Tl5QBKUwHtNK7C-sCFWhr6BRBTTAVNw4MKS2Iy7EPPUGXyuJ1DAlH6rHwDqecbTvFySsu-onIK4_E/s320/picture-0.png" usa="true" width="320" /></a></div>
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Beep, beep, beep…..silence</div>
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I never knew how comforting the beep was until it stopped</div>
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Dark, dark, dark</div>
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The screen went dark as they turned it off</div>
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Why, why, why</div>
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My question is just as unanswered today as it was that night</div>
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Walk, walk, walk,</div>
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Put one foot in front of the other and try to move on</div>
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Sob, sob, sob</div>
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Mostly in the seclusion of my home is where the tears fall</div>
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Years, years, years</div>
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The seasons have rolled by five times now since that March</div>
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Beat, beat, beat</div>
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I watched on a tiny screen as your heart beat in my womb</div>
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And I watched on a tiny screen as your heart stopped in my arms</div>
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The ending of the beep was the beginning of the dark, the questions, and the tears</div>
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The ending of the beep still haunts me </div>
<br />The Butlershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02401753054906219221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193812648478520275.post-47537640647475842013-02-09T11:27:00.003-08:002013-02-09T11:27:39.270-08:00The Cemetery<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuSr2HecrfUi0k7_jhlyHEPuzpDB_Va3tIwALnSoumjA2bItsi4GCtcjMm4zZkWilmmhVdthsAxCUIthWLHVAnQnN_b4N0vrcHfPv_nobCARJky9_MHCa6l4UTgVJ1EXaAwdTHwENnTGI/s1600/Picture+459.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" jea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuSr2HecrfUi0k7_jhlyHEPuzpDB_Va3tIwALnSoumjA2bItsi4GCtcjMm4zZkWilmmhVdthsAxCUIthWLHVAnQnN_b4N0vrcHfPv_nobCARJky9_MHCa6l4UTgVJ1EXaAwdTHwENnTGI/s320/Picture+459.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Blankets of flowers adorn the earth’s floor<br />
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I shiver as I open up my car door<br />
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With a bouquet in hand I make my way<br />
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To the patch of ground where I left you that day<br />
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I have been here many times before<br />
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Yet each time I tell myself I should come more<br />
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I stand and I wonder how long I should stay<br />
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What should I bring you…what should I say<br />
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I look around at the faded flowers in vases<br />
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I close my eyes and see their faces<br />
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The faces of other moms, dads, husbands and wives<br />
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Who come here to visit and ponder their lives<br />
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To cry and to miss their loved one below<br />
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And gather the strength to once again go<br />
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Five years have passed since I last saw your face<br />
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But it never gets easier to leave you in this place<br />
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Yet leaving is what I must make myself do<br />
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But know that part of my heart is buried here too<br />
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The part that died when I lost you that night<br />
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And I shiver once more as I drive out of sight<br />
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The one thing that comforts me as your grave fades from view<br />
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Is knowing your brother is buried with you<br />
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Two tiny boys we placed side by side<br />
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I am sorry you both suffered and I am sorry you both died<br />
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My body failed you and my body failed me<br />
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And now I must leave you in this cemetery<br />
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The Butlershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02401753054906219221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193812648478520275.post-44002574623524954852012-01-17T12:45:00.000-08:002012-01-17T12:57:11.979-08:00It is Raining<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2itUJUzfXfp2a-DZWk5_dtyLVzhhyCQsK_htU7W3fUov_u6w1kcMM-1qIhKjXJtgYErBx9oeDtSfwgNxlz2sgEL0J-fsfhg_mux-e-SFxX-bs-T7k8SjXw08Rj6M_Z_5857Kz-FFH8kA/s1600/1968006486_787ebc06f6.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698706545130946626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2itUJUzfXfp2a-DZWk5_dtyLVzhhyCQsK_htU7W3fUov_u6w1kcMM-1qIhKjXJtgYErBx9oeDtSfwgNxlz2sgEL0J-fsfhg_mux-e-SFxX-bs-T7k8SjXw08Rj6M_Z_5857Kz-FFH8kA/s320/1968006486_787ebc06f6.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div align="center">It is raining outside<br />Like any mother I worry about my babies in the rain<br />I want to keep them nice and dry so they don’t catch a cold<br />But I can’t put rain boots and a rain coat on my babies<br />My babies are in the ground<br />They are in the wet muddy ground<br />There are many people that would argue that they are not truly there<br />Sure I know that<br />But that is where I placed their bodies and I still feel protective of them<br />I still have that maternal instinct to guard my eggs in the nest<br />So I worry when it is raining<br />I worry when it is snowing<br />I worry when it is storming<br />I worry when it is windy<br />I even worry when it is sunny and bright outside<br />Because even on the sunniest of days it is raining on my heart</div>The Butlershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02401753054906219221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193812648478520275.post-63120690884001251862011-01-26T11:56:00.000-08:002011-01-26T12:03:54.748-08:00The Beating of a Heart<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLZ2u1a9N3E-X6qZWZgCsCjvEzkFmGl2ab0anNgfjG-3mQlNePYPUbI2vnX_Dtae0oqnWwvRMkbD-5IAVm0IDKAKeOQqAvlHEjA_W-8aVQrVsIhVA7lJ5ilxcbFnypHE6dA20PC_aefQw/s1600/heart-monitor-500.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566587147261893794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 249px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLZ2u1a9N3E-X6qZWZgCsCjvEzkFmGl2ab0anNgfjG-3mQlNePYPUbI2vnX_Dtae0oqnWwvRMkbD-5IAVm0IDKAKeOQqAvlHEjA_W-8aVQrVsIhVA7lJ5ilxcbFnypHE6dA20PC_aefQw/s320/heart-monitor-500.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>It all started and ended with the beating of a heart </div><div><br />The first time I saw those three beating hearts on that screen my own heart skipped a beat </div><div><br />When I actually got to hear them it was the most precious sound I have ever heard </div><div><br />As a woman who had struggled to get pregnant for so long I couldn’t believe that those wonderful sounds of life were coming from within my womb. </div><div><br />The first crushing blow came when one of those hearts stopped beating 26 weeks later </div><div><br />We don’t know why it stopped they told me sadly </div><div><br />Still I tried to focus on those other two beating hearts </div><div><br />They were hanging on and even though a part of my own heart had just died I had to hang on for them </div><div><br />A few days later as those precious blessings were delivered from my womb I prayed that those two hearts would continue to beat on their own </div><div><br />Every second was so unpredictable and the fear of the unknown scared me to death </div><div><br />When I finally heard that those two little miracles were doing as well as could be expected, a little bit of my own heart started beating again and I could finally breathe for the first time in days </div><div><br />Then two weeks later another blow stopped my heart once again </div><div><br />Brady was sick</div><div><br />For the next five months, every beat of Brady’s heart and every breathe that he took was documented on a little monitor next to his bed </div><div><br />If anything was slightly off, an alarm would sound and a nurse would run to his side </div><div><br />I jumped at every little beep for the first couple of weeks until finally I barely noticed them anymore. </div><div><br />There was no monitor strapped to my heart but if there had been there would surely have been moments when alarms sounded </div><div><br />For my heart stopped numerous times and was broken and crushed every time another bit of bad news was delivered to me </div><div><br />Finally the worst news came of all </div><div><br />Brady’s heart was sick and could not be fixed </div><div><br />So we turned off those monitors and focused instead on loving him with all of our hearts </div><div><br />Then on a cold night in late March, I found myself staring at a screen once again</div><div><br />But this time there was no heartbeat and there was no sound </div><div><br />That little heart had stopped beating and along with it I knew that I had lost a piece of my own heart forever. </div>The Butlershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02401753054906219221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193812648478520275.post-44120818167699068132011-01-25T13:48:00.000-08:002011-01-25T13:54:32.231-08:00The One I Got to Keep<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6EHa-vUuGGXICOgTuvX0Mxwhr8crw3Hdqsg6O1rCS0p0rFllXsz0P9c1bbi7XlXgDIsoUaE-3YimMydETYAcpT4-Y8mThCo11CIo6KC4YMOSJPXL5yW0wr1h3kCOafOXwM2_PLTHz5Sg/s1600/41378_1405461995_5706_n.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566245019140283634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6EHa-vUuGGXICOgTuvX0Mxwhr8crw3Hdqsg6O1rCS0p0rFllXsz0P9c1bbi7XlXgDIsoUaE-3YimMydETYAcpT4-Y8mThCo11CIo6KC4YMOSJPXL5yW0wr1h3kCOafOXwM2_PLTHz5Sg/s320/41378_1405461995_5706_n.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="left">I often dwell on the sons that I lost<br />But that dwelling comes at a very high cost<br />Because I almost forget about the son I got to keep<br />The one who curls up in my lap and drifts off to sleep<br />The one who plays for hours with trains and blocks<br />The one who is learning to put on his own shoes and socks<br />The one who is growing up more and more each day<br />The one who will one day be all grown up and moving away<br />So I know I need to savor all of these days<br />And make a conscience effort to step out of my haze<br />Because this little boy lived and I need to live too<br />And he is there each day to make sure that I do<br />Because he tugs at my hand and tells me to come play<br />He is a child ready to seize each and every day<br />Yes this little boy is the one who survived<br />And when I look at him my spirit is revived<br />The pain of my loss is so very deep<br />But I thank God every day for the one I got to keep</div>The Butlershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02401753054906219221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193812648478520275.post-86527867905194370132010-12-17T10:03:00.000-08:002010-12-17T10:13:24.382-08:00Christmas in Heaven<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUXIoBljaXSlZP-4AQMOt6l2rq-fXdRy_2MzVmu15e-U6nI3TH_frKFbfCpGmBfzT8wSdZJ8czJGV6_v0R0YJGlfG6f1QAjb_5T0WfHboBa_Fs6kVoF28GQ5_qyscPFEvi5_ZLkHZ-e0k/s1600/my-first-christmas-in-heaven.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551715803870262050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 263px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUXIoBljaXSlZP-4AQMOt6l2rq-fXdRy_2MzVmu15e-U6nI3TH_frKFbfCpGmBfzT8wSdZJ8czJGV6_v0R0YJGlfG6f1QAjb_5T0WfHboBa_Fs6kVoF28GQ5_qyscPFEvi5_ZLkHZ-e0k/s320/my-first-christmas-in-heaven.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Holidays in heaven are a mystery to me<br />Do you have stockings and a Christmas tree?<br />Do you tear into gifts with that wide eye joy?<br />Do you even get to have or play with a toy?<br />Down here holidays are tough to get through<br />I think about you in all that I do<br />I wish I was taking you to see Santa and sit on his lap<br />I wish I was dressing you in cute little boots and a hat<br />I wish I was watching you take in all the lights<br />I wish I was reading you holiday stories each night<br />For the holidays are all about children you see<br />So it is hard not to think of the two who left me<br />Your brother gives me so much joy and peace<br />But that joy is bittersweet to say the least<br />But when I get too sad and upset<br />I close my eyes and try not to forget<br />To remember that you may not sit with Santa in his red hat<br />But you do sit upon the lap of someone much greater than that<br />You sit upon the lap of our Lord in all of his glory<br />And he probably tells you a much greater story<br />The story of his love for you and for me<br />And the gift that he gave that won’t fit under a tree<br />He gave the gift of his life and his grace<br />So that one day I may have the chance again to see your sweet face<br />And that is the best gift I will ever receive<br />So this Christmas Season, I truly do believe<br />Not in the man with the reindeer and sleigh<br />But in the man who will bring us together again one day<br />And so until then I hope you are surrounded by his love and his light<br />Merry Christmas my boys, sleep well and sleep tight! </div>The Butlershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02401753054906219221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193812648478520275.post-84132363369728943082010-07-14T10:01:00.000-07:002010-07-14T10:05:22.760-07:00How is it going up there boys?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfoeIFleqCCivhHJk5A2CRahEIMue0fTj0kh_GFViEAIHAdMGva6csoADwC03czkHZwh-ucHc4C7d_qPrmiX7rj_WdrCqCjvhMUKSQS3xvFchybxq6E3ASpWn8NRVSwjcADAedkbka3nE/s1600/rainbow.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493808511674379106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 223px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfoeIFleqCCivhHJk5A2CRahEIMue0fTj0kh_GFViEAIHAdMGva6csoADwC03czkHZwh-ucHc4C7d_qPrmiX7rj_WdrCqCjvhMUKSQS3xvFchybxq6E3ASpWn8NRVSwjcADAedkbka3nE/s320/rainbow.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>How is going up there Brady and Ben?<br />You don’t know how much I long to ask you that question.<br />I ask Braxton about his day when I pick him up after work.<br />He tells me all about how he played outside on the slide or the swings.<br />He tells me what he had for lunch.<br />He tells me about the normal things that a two year old boy does.<br />Oh how I wish I knew how your day went.<br />Did you sing with angels?<br />Did you play on a cloud?<br />Did you look down on Braxton, me, or Daddy?<br />Did you hear me when I talked to you?<br />Just once I would love to hear you tell me that you are okay.<br />Of course I know that you are but as a mother I long to hear it.<br />I long to kiss your cheek and tell you that I love you.<br />So, how is it going up there boys?<br />Down here it is going okay but we miss you.<br />So until I am up there with you I will think of you daily.<br />And every now and then when I see something beautiful that catches my eye<br />I will take it as a sign that you are telling me that you are okay.</div><div>I will smile knowing that my boys are saying </div><div>“We had a good day mommy.”</div>The Butlershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02401753054906219221noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193812648478520275.post-49592562382081526092010-06-24T13:21:00.000-07:002010-06-24T13:24:01.293-07:00Boys Did You Know<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIdZwVLjCg007ht7TJBJno4JbwQoVpREs8WZ5UgQ4X8MozNB26kcicaRVLdSFUz1xOXTFxghFGwupzG3tlJKQ_A9_C6ccgAlDuxXvKu4nDtFVxj6DA6KyibQCbuMRt8NnB5ngbrlv-w1c/s1600/123756075880611086warszawianka_Mother_and_child_silhouette_svg_med.png"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486438502149438738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 243px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 298px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIdZwVLjCg007ht7TJBJno4JbwQoVpREs8WZ5UgQ4X8MozNB26kcicaRVLdSFUz1xOXTFxghFGwupzG3tlJKQ_A9_C6ccgAlDuxXvKu4nDtFVxj6DA6KyibQCbuMRt8NnB5ngbrlv-w1c/s320/123756075880611086warszawianka_Mother_and_child_silhouette_svg_med.png" border="0" /></a> <div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><br /><div><strong>Boys did you know….</strong><br />When your daddy was a little boy, his mommy passed away<br />That made your daddy very sad and still bothers him today<br /><strong>Boys did you know …<br /></strong>That daddy was only eight years old and needed his mommy still<br />But sometimes things happen that we don’t understand and probably never will<br /><strong>Boys did you know...<br /></strong>Your daddy thought he had experienced the worse pain around<br />Until the day he had to place two of his baby boys in the ground<br /><strong>Boys did you know...</strong><br />That grown men can cry<br />They cannot shield their hearts from pain no matter how hard they try<br /><strong>Boys did you know ...<br /></strong>That the one thing that brought your daddy comfort was thinking of his mother<br />And knowing that the three of you would be up there with each other<br /><strong>Boys did you know...<br /></strong>That you would get to have the mommy that he had to let go<br />He used to wonder why and now he might just know<br />For maybe just maybe he had to lose his mommy so she could be there for you<br />And give him a sense of peace that might just see him through.</div>The Butlershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02401753054906219221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193812648478520275.post-28936218972984770332010-06-10T07:58:00.000-07:002010-06-10T08:01:49.933-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho3IC9_c9Amk9y3ylg8bGOT0y8hQxGSBjvVGXqPqaJpu2ME5xLenodKvx4ZmrZ1ICfFWBlqya0zlRYUrzcoFzKZf-ZFCExu-lLhb5L222hmvno3ICDzwInh4qSZi8poCFdb2dzhaYvnPs/s1600/HospitalCartoon.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481160317136659826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 252px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho3IC9_c9Amk9y3ylg8bGOT0y8hQxGSBjvVGXqPqaJpu2ME5xLenodKvx4ZmrZ1ICfFWBlqya0zlRYUrzcoFzKZf-ZFCExu-lLhb5L222hmvno3ICDzwInh4qSZi8poCFdb2dzhaYvnPs/s320/HospitalCartoon.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I never realized that a building could make you physically ill until now<br />Every time I go near the hospital where you spent your short little life<br />My heart begins to beat faster and feel heavier<br />When I have to actually go in the building I am a complete wreck<br />I sob uncontrollably at every corner that I turn<br />For every nook and cranny of that place is filled with a bittersweet memory<br />Those walls were my world and yours for almost five months<br />You died in my arms in a little room on the fourth floor<br />Yes I miss you every day and every moment no matter where I am<br />But when I go there I feel your presence even more—that is where you lived<br />We never got to take you home so that hospital is your home—but you are not there anymore<br />I almost expect to get off the elevator and see you in your tiny little bed<br />That building is like a time machine and my heart is like a ticking bomb<br />And when I enter that place it explodes with emotions and memories of you.</div>The Butlershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02401753054906219221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193812648478520275.post-57237028179582863982010-06-03T10:44:00.000-07:002010-06-03T11:02:06.733-07:00You Will Eventually Get Over It....<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc65TTx1UyFpXAiHpimM1tXAZYEWDN95W-t9E4FIj7pPCd1wsSh6jEH_m4gdLs38hEjURVCy8kjgBrs4I415MaHaHDcfFMMGUsP31olt61HbBc8ODDgaToDFLzvSpxUoIRkfFZySNQ3KI/s1600/fogz-1175292877.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478608984855399442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc65TTx1UyFpXAiHpimM1tXAZYEWDN95W-t9E4FIj7pPCd1wsSh6jEH_m4gdLs38hEjURVCy8kjgBrs4I415MaHaHDcfFMMGUsP31olt61HbBc8ODDgaToDFLzvSpxUoIRkfFZySNQ3KI/s320/fogz-1175292877.jpg" border="0" /></a><strong>You will eventually get over it…</strong><br /><br />You will eventually get over it...<br />If I hear these words again I will scream<br />This is my life not some unfortunate dream<br />Sure I will just grow a new heart<br />One that is not broken and torn all apart<br />The pain of losing a child never goes away<br />You just learn to live with it day after day<br />You can’t understand if you have never been in my shoes<br />So I will just eventually get over the words that you choose<br /><div></div>The Butlershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02401753054906219221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193812648478520275.post-79366727597098788912010-05-28T13:01:00.000-07:002010-05-28T13:09:37.096-07:00Kisses for Brady<div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzSZOj_R8lzoqsAWUxdTybpMp69PrpVP0c9hj0-lMIM4K5sAp9d4wKBd37oJWrZlbzB_5pppwpb_BRtc6q7E5Jdnf1BkuVOImCHFbRstN3caUqJf-7QxCVkM4tfEFUB5ZccTfiVeIhhvU/s1600/sweet_mother_kissing_card-p137245404604526329q6ay_400.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476415295145737122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzSZOj_R8lzoqsAWUxdTybpMp69PrpVP0c9hj0-lMIM4K5sAp9d4wKBd37oJWrZlbzB_5pppwpb_BRtc6q7E5Jdnf1BkuVOImCHFbRstN3caUqJf-7QxCVkM4tfEFUB5ZccTfiVeIhhvU/s320/sweet_mother_kissing_card-p137245404604526329q6ay_400.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><strong>Kisses for Brady</strong><br /><br /><br /><div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>Kisses for Brady I used to say<br />Kisses for Brady that I planted each day<br />Kisses for Brady I brought to your hospital bed<br />Kisses for Brady I placed on your head<br />Kisses for Brady from your mommy to you<br />Kisses for Brady—not much more I could do<br />For Kisses for Brady were all I could give<br />But Kisses for Brady didn’t help you live<br />And when you passed away late one night<br />I gave you kiss after kiss and held you so tight<br />For I wanted to make sure you had enough kisses to get you through<br />Until I could get to heaven to be with you<br />And when that day comes I will kiss you again<br />And this time I will bring my kisses for Ben<br />But until I can get there-love and enjoy one another<br />And wait for the kisses from your loving mother.</div></div><br /></div>The Butlershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02401753054906219221noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193812648478520275.post-60454382290386237532010-04-23T10:09:00.000-07:002010-04-23T10:11:20.382-07:00March for Babies 2010!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdW_QidaR2HPHt2Bt-MN6i4UakxTJwH7lNf1ipg_olA63v6ZsBcpz42UcExY6KnTQPSmkR93O1sOBFBkYPcHx9GKtmwLRS8-MpRnkaQD92o-vI-xt40mQEvglVSgz2jxoXBS0DUPdq7KM/s1600/25352_1447803996345_1270537677_31348239_3082731_n.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463381621512848274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdW_QidaR2HPHt2Bt-MN6i4UakxTJwH7lNf1ipg_olA63v6ZsBcpz42UcExY6KnTQPSmkR93O1sOBFBkYPcHx9GKtmwLRS8-MpRnkaQD92o-vI-xt40mQEvglVSgz2jxoXBS0DUPdq7KM/s320/25352_1447803996345_1270537677_31348239_3082731_n.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Today we walked for you<br />Because you never got the chance to learn how to walk<br />Today we wore t-shirts with your name and buttons with your picture<br />Because you never got the chance to wear the clothes we bought for you<br />Today we stopped and remembered you<br />Because you deserve to be remembered<br />Today we met others who had lost babies like you<br />Because they are hurting just like us<br />Today we raised money for a good cause<br />Because we don’t want others to know our pain<br />Today we told your story<br />Because you didn’t live to get to tell it yourself<br />Today we made a flower for you and placed it in a memory garden<br />Because like a flower you were so very beautiful and delicate<br />Today we started a tradition that we hope will continue for years to come<br />Because we never want to stop telling your story and remembering you<br />Today we missed you greatly<br />Because today is no different than any other day—we miss you everyday<br />Today we took a step toward healing, a step towards hope, and a step towards a brighter tomorrow. </div>The Butlershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02401753054906219221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193812648478520275.post-20220992976592879212010-03-03T11:36:00.000-08:002010-03-03T11:55:46.779-08:00He doesn't know<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEAEIpLb0ALLI9tbzUPPVrLyyVpPUiB65moy_RFF7JsZpsbCu31rHnquFurxrK2m7VMft2s4vhFzLy8qu4kcocLiDDhSXfN9bKzK8gK5W5hQ6QvJ9zECMTcpbMOswaypkfS_dNNTmhYes/s1600-h/l_33460a03f2308308f979bf2b1f544d7d.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444498019785043410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 239px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEAEIpLb0ALLI9tbzUPPVrLyyVpPUiB65moy_RFF7JsZpsbCu31rHnquFurxrK2m7VMft2s4vhFzLy8qu4kcocLiDDhSXfN9bKzK8gK5W5hQ6QvJ9zECMTcpbMOswaypkfS_dNNTmhYes/s320/l_33460a03f2308308f979bf2b1f544d7d.jpg" border="0" /></a> <div><div>Braxton pointed to one of the pictures we have in our house of Brady and said "A baby." How it crushed my heart to hear him say this. He, of course, has no idea that the baby in that picture is his brother or that the baby should not be a baby anymore but a toddler like him. He also doesn't know that there is yet a third baby that we don't even have a picture of that should also be his age. They were my triplet baby boys. They will always be but unfortunatley they are not all together right now. I never even got to have a picture of all three of them together. One day of course Braxton will know the story of his brothers and what happened but until that day comes I just have to fight back my tears and keep it to myself. We made the decision to keep pictures of Brady up around the house because he is our son and we love him. We don't have a shrine to him but we do have some of his pictures out. I know one day Braxton will want to know who he is and I will tell him. But for now he doesn't know that that is the way it should be. Childhood innocence is so fleeting and I want his to last as long as possible.</div></div>The Butlershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02401753054906219221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193812648478520275.post-52028428664253877942010-01-27T13:19:00.000-08:002010-01-27T13:33:55.312-08:00Eyes<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCVzeVgZBlxLYi1rrDZNP8CrXuoPxb5aQwusIliVFNY0dOzOGcWXboQOH1rfZInD0nRsyq-YEKSRKgL5-G6-NYTHPLoDPSIhMmDTSuXRwU4jWh4BzZhNl7M4Lo8E-1X4l7ldXYsuoAcSs/s1600-h/eye.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431535350127795522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 205px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCVzeVgZBlxLYi1rrDZNP8CrXuoPxb5aQwusIliVFNY0dOzOGcWXboQOH1rfZInD0nRsyq-YEKSRKgL5-G6-NYTHPLoDPSIhMmDTSuXRwU4jWh4BzZhNl7M4Lo8E-1X4l7ldXYsuoAcSs/s320/eye.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong>Eyes</strong><br /></div><br /><div>They say that eyes are the windows to the soul<br />If you could look into mine, you would see a hole<br />A hole so big it can never be filled<br />A pain so strong, it can never be healed<br />But you would also see the love that overflows<br />The joy that I feel as my surviving son grows<br />The peace that I know I am finding day by day<br />The feeling that I might eventually be okay<br />No that hole will never be filled<br />But I know that my fate is already sealed<br />For I will be united with my sons at the end of this life’s track<br />And only then will I have my whole heart back. </div></div></div>The Butlershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02401753054906219221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193812648478520275.post-51462599950032585412010-01-14T13:32:00.000-08:002010-01-14T13:34:54.292-08:00The Little Things<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk8Ru16Fx2pmLtNmnTETQdUH0mROJMjrjTmsi5DfUn2fXxeaqtj43T7f8OVeI6ux-8TQXHD64QcYo8ywWpnOplFatgyNowY_Q-G0EGPmYyXSH2yjOd5717XC7pHdjsZtMXqlo10esmlVY/s1600-h/Taiya1b.png"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426712162692681986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk8Ru16Fx2pmLtNmnTETQdUH0mROJMjrjTmsi5DfUn2fXxeaqtj43T7f8OVeI6ux-8TQXHD64QcYo8ywWpnOplFatgyNowY_Q-G0EGPmYyXSH2yjOd5717XC7pHdjsZtMXqlo10esmlVY/s320/Taiya1b.png" border="0" /></a><br /><div><strong>The Little Things</strong></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>It is the little things that make me sad<br />It is the little things that are a reminder of the experience I never had<br />It is the little things that make me remember the pain<br />It is the little things that make me speak your name<br />Yet is also the little things that bring me cheer<br />The little things that make me aware of what I have here<br />It is the little things that show me I have been blessed<br />It is the little things that keep me from becoming depressed<br />For I have a lot to be thankful for I truly, truly know<br />And I will cherish all the little things as I go</div>The Butlershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02401753054906219221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193812648478520275.post-28074458684525732842010-01-14T11:29:00.000-08:002010-01-14T11:47:34.345-08:00These Were the Words That They Said to Me<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOYLvRaUVJ_EgSn1k9x0kxZf-7k0jM-63osWWUG7VqcrBOnGiwCAwR123jFMZmba_ZRNgBTxsoyEtytfmM1u0EuTgGQBLLw7_t0A7VufkDYuDqygYXs3y6qJYveRn74LkED7XZg1obMSc/s1600-h/3232733092_bd9d17d5b0.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426684369717364546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOYLvRaUVJ_EgSn1k9x0kxZf-7k0jM-63osWWUG7VqcrBOnGiwCAwR123jFMZmba_ZRNgBTxsoyEtytfmM1u0EuTgGQBLLw7_t0A7VufkDYuDqygYXs3y6qJYveRn74LkED7XZg1obMSc/s320/3232733092_bd9d17d5b0.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><strong>These Were the Words That They Said to Me<br /></strong><br />One, Two, Three baby boys growing inside their mother’s womb<br />One, Two, Three baby boys kick and wiggle for room<br />Everything looks great with all three—<strong>these were the words that they said to me</strong><br />One, Two Baby boys still kicking with glee<br />But something was not right with number three<br />He has no heartbeat and we don’t know why-<strong>these were the words they said to me</strong><br />After the shock wore off I began to cry<br />The other two still look good they said with a sigh<br />They checked me again the very next day<br />We have to get them all out and right away<br />Prepare for delivery—it is an emergency—<strong>these were the words they said to me</strong><br />Braxton looks great and just needs to grow<br />Brady’s progress , however, is moving a little more slow<br />He needs to be moved to another hospital for a while<br />But he’ll be just fine they said with a smile<br />So off he went with all his belongings in a sack<br />Little did we know he would never be back<br />He is having complications and we will just have to wait and see—<strong>these were the words they said to me<br /></strong>We wait and we pray day after day<br />But finally they come to me and this is what they say<br />He is not going to make it—there is nothing more we can do<br />I am sorry that you are going to lose not one baby but two<br />Your baby is gone—his heart beats no more and his energy is spent<br />But at least he was in your arms when he went<br />Hold him for a little longer and take as long as you need—<strong>these were the words that they said to me<br /></strong>One little boy snuggles into my chest<br />The only one of the three that I have left<br />He survived and his brothers did not<br />It is not the ending he deserved but it is the one that he got<br />Your beginning was rough but your future is not dim-<strong>these were the words that I said to him<br /></strong>For God took two but left me one<br />And I will continue to go on for you my sweet little son<br />Your brothers are with you in spirit and will live on through you<br />They will shine with you in all that you do<br />He gave me hug and a kiss and said one little word<br />The sweetest word I have ever heard<br />“Mommy” he said as clear as can be—<strong>this was the word that he said to me</strong>The Butlershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02401753054906219221noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193812648478520275.post-63517712700835463572010-01-13T11:32:00.000-08:002010-01-14T11:49:45.079-08:00To Ben<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBmJehPJA7kVOG1bGhf9vlLc_o4H2SYXhygQIBGyrewLhlFxm1iZYI3NVqdpXL_K159fbGHvJ-9SxK6_y2Jem2D09H428nGWmq4ULn8-2eC5lvAOFUTObnXSAdfzvNscHAH7IU3tnexF8/s1600-h/9231_1223585395517_1405461995_639049_5077709_n.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426313937423730114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 239px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBmJehPJA7kVOG1bGhf9vlLc_o4H2SYXhygQIBGyrewLhlFxm1iZYI3NVqdpXL_K159fbGHvJ-9SxK6_y2Jem2D09H428nGWmq4ULn8-2eC5lvAOFUTObnXSAdfzvNscHAH7IU3tnexF8/s320/9231_1223585395517_1405461995_639049_5077709_n.jpg" border="0" /></a> <strong>To Ben</strong><br /><div><div><div><div><strong><br /></strong>Sometimes I feel that I am more open about my grief over Brady’s death than over yours<br />But I finally realized that I don’t grieve more for one of you than the other, I just grieve differently<br />The day they told me that you had no heartbeat<br />A little piece of my heart stopped too<br />Although I was pregnant with three baby boys<br />I was equally excited for all of you<br />I was excited for what life would hold for you all as individuals and as brothers<br />Yet I was being told that your life was over before it began<br />I cried and I grieved and I got angry and that has not changed<br />When you were born they asked me if I wanted to see you<br />How could I not want to see this beautiful creature that had grown inside me for all of these months<br />They warned me that you would look different because you were still<br />I told them that I still wanted to see my baby<br />They brought you to me and Daddy wrapped in a tiny little blanket<br />The first thing I noticed was your nose<br />You had my nose<br />Then I noticed your hands and feet<br />They were perfect<br />We held you for a few minutes and took you in<br />They gave me a few mementos of you to keep<br />I still have them but holding you for that brief moment is the memento I will keep forever<br />No I don’t grieve in the same way for both of you<br />But I grieve for both of you still<br />I grieve for what was, what could have been, and what never will be<br />I will love you always---Love Mommy</div></div></div></div>The Butlershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02401753054906219221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193812648478520275.post-22523818919704139892010-01-13T10:26:00.001-08:002010-01-13T10:33:26.087-08:00New Year, New Purpose<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_s4wkHckpC2xkq0UBgOqVjfyqa01S_9SuLgna2uG3a3VSm3XMH2nuvkYsvcnRVH3LV27c_MZW76vYY_LXJfXVATj4wbx_8InmnFhlIPAkZP5us311kQhJlKmUuRsoQ0ZYZcdZ68TrHy4/s1600-h/-4.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426294096978752338" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_s4wkHckpC2xkq0UBgOqVjfyqa01S_9SuLgna2uG3a3VSm3XMH2nuvkYsvcnRVH3LV27c_MZW76vYY_LXJfXVATj4wbx_8InmnFhlIPAkZP5us311kQhJlKmUuRsoQ0ZYZcdZ68TrHy4/s200/-4.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>As I begin the year 2010 I have decided to start updating this blog more. However, I am now solely dedicating this blog to my thoughts and feelings about Brady and Ben. Afterall, the name of the blog pretty much sums up why I created the blog to begin with--to remember and to love Brady and Ben. This blog is really part of my therapy in trying to heal a little bit each day. I know I will never heal completely because when you lose a child, part of your heart dies with them. Part of your heart is gone forever and you can never get it back until you are with your child again. I have also created a second blog that is more dedicated to the every day ramblings surrounding my life with Michael and our surviving son Braxton. You can check that blog out at hangingwiththebutlers.blogspot.com </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>Happy 2010 everyone!!</div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>The Butlershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02401753054906219221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193812648478520275.post-84272226760924260582010-01-13T10:21:00.000-08:002010-01-13T10:23:30.078-08:00The Radio Sings<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqwqUNJwb6XfHYwD2Ahu9aHxHTOyCg6CKM8kMpXAWiPqyRsUW1neD9Ax3n7TP9quHQpp4dKEF-gLe5N_3SmiCksKax93n8JidXYPf4pGgscjC3VFjzKHI2MI01pQ9Mm85WN_1hen1jZc8/s1600-h/child-angel-field-625a.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426291731101724690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 140px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqwqUNJwb6XfHYwD2Ahu9aHxHTOyCg6CKM8kMpXAWiPqyRsUW1neD9Ax3n7TP9quHQpp4dKEF-gLe5N_3SmiCksKax93n8JidXYPf4pGgscjC3VFjzKHI2MI01pQ9Mm85WN_1hen1jZc8/s200/child-angel-field-625a.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><strong>The Radio Sings</strong><br /><br />My love will fly to you each night on angel’s wings<br />These are the words that the radio sings<br />These are the words that played in your room day after day<br />These are the words that expressed what I couldn’t say<br />For I do hope that you can feel my love each night<br />I hope you can feel my arms around you so tight<br />I hope you feel my kisses against your cheek<br />I hope you can hear the soft words that I speak<br />Good night my two boys and sleep tight<br />I wish I was there to tuck you in for the night<br />But you are there and I am here<br />You seem so far away but yet so near<br />So until I can be there with you, take this love that the angels bring<br />And listen to the words that the radio sings<br />Sweet dreams, little men, sweet dreams</div>The Butlershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02401753054906219221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193812648478520275.post-35765354148598983982010-01-13T09:55:00.000-08:002010-01-13T09:58:57.951-08:00Going Home<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtR2NCAqkBmoHkjvf3GxV5h5oWlwL_R0rsx9OdlCSuXP69wziJEHxTCV5isgTBfiHToqR7lPOx6Jegw9xVfTxC0SbahIi_BT7LTDPve-V41_IpTo9YeBBRxEyHloI7ZMVdlaaTMIS14hc/s1600-h/home-sweet-home-quilt-block-3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426285231059362274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 193px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtR2NCAqkBmoHkjvf3GxV5h5oWlwL_R0rsx9OdlCSuXP69wziJEHxTCV5isgTBfiHToqR7lPOx6Jegw9xVfTxC0SbahIi_BT7LTDPve-V41_IpTo9YeBBRxEyHloI7ZMVdlaaTMIS14hc/s200/home-sweet-home-quilt-block-3.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><strong>Going Home<br /></strong><br />It never got to happen<br />I never got to bring you home<br />I would watch as other babies would move to stepdown<br />I would count the days until that was you<br />I would count the days until you came home with us<br />Everything at the house was ready for you and your brothers<br />Sweet Ben we lost from the start and we knew he would never make it home<br />But for you we had hope—lots of hope<br />We were given many many assurances that you would eventually be just fine<br />But you were not just fine—you kept having setbacks<br />You kept getting sicker and sicker until finally there was no hope<br />Then we counted days again—but this time it was the days we had left with you<br />The days until you got to go home but not to our home but to your heavenly home<br />It was not the home we had planned for you<br />It was not the kind of countdown we had wanted<br />But in the end-it was the countdown we got</div><br /><br /><div>And finally late one night in my arms—you went home</div>The Butlershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02401753054906219221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193812648478520275.post-82769559372297401632009-10-16T13:23:00.000-07:002010-01-14T13:36:55.981-08:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiechO-s_DYZrkBWZRuSNqXew_XszDbDsTmueP0XXajN0Jp1jQRdbGRvhjD66ohSunYNe9xYMDlrV0sAxBub3OWS3giVbIpKbKR8DoyaBsvVPDpFRGFoscci8jHf0XguzySiMU5GoGNh4o/s1600-h/877.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393300976549421922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiechO-s_DYZrkBWZRuSNqXew_XszDbDsTmueP0XXajN0Jp1jQRdbGRvhjD66ohSunYNe9xYMDlrV0sAxBub3OWS3giVbIpKbKR8DoyaBsvVPDpFRGFoscci8jHf0XguzySiMU5GoGNh4o/s400/877.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center"><div align="center">Butterflies<br /><br />I saw two butterflies today and they took my breath away<br />Two butterflies just inches from a little boy at play<br />He smiled at them as they caught his eye<br />These two little butterflies just fluttering by<br />Finally they came to rest in a nearby tree<br />The tree that was planted with love by me<br />Before I knew it I started to cry<br />And these two little butterflies were the reason why<br />A butterfly is a symbol of a mother who has lost a child they say<br />That is why these two butterflies took my breath away<br />For I have lost not one child but two<br />And I wonder if these two little butterflies are a message from you<br />A message that my two little boys are okay<br />And just wanted to watch over their brother at play </div></div>The Butlershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02401753054906219221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193812648478520275.post-53663594105330437292009-10-16T12:25:00.000-07:002009-10-16T12:34:23.852-07:00A new post almost a year later!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1vM0MUTKOGe1RRrwpyuFoKTPZG4NLmNbF1SYOIdcq9PycGqrhpIPNeBJVPMVMLnXq0Z2et1wB6qm_b7lb5LoByZGExUXjkGiFSq_StKyGscwebdaFt6_EdVee0L1WQ_wGXjPrlc0fxgc/s1600-h/9231_1223584955506_1405461995_639039_5251156_n.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393283362719680898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 239px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1vM0MUTKOGe1RRrwpyuFoKTPZG4NLmNbF1SYOIdcq9PycGqrhpIPNeBJVPMVMLnXq0Z2et1wB6qm_b7lb5LoByZGExUXjkGiFSq_StKyGscwebdaFt6_EdVee0L1WQ_wGXjPrlc0fxgc/s320/9231_1223584955506_1405461995_639039_5251156_n.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I cannot believe that I have not posted to this blog for almost an entire year. However, life happens and sometimes you let some things go. Although Brady and Ben are never far from my thoughts, this time of year is really hard because it is the anniversary of the birth of the babies and the beginning of our heartache. This year is a little easier than last year but the ache in my heart for the two missing little boys who are not here will never go away. Braxton is almost two and is turning in to such a big boy. He is no longer a baby and really has his own little personality. While that makes me so happy, I do wonder what Brady and Ben would look like at this age and what their personalities would be. I think I will always wonder that. I am about to graduate with my Masters in December. I never thought I would make it to the finish line after all that has happened but it looks like I am going to make it. I am proud of myself for pushing on towards my goals. Grief is a funny thing. I am okay most of the time but it still just takes a little something to send it all rushing back. I can't go to Vanderbilt Children's Hospital without having a breakdown but I tell myself that I am allowed to have these breakdowns. Overall, Michael, Braxton and I are doing well and trying to move on with our lives but Brady and Ben will always be part of our family and part of our story. </div>The Butlershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02401753054906219221noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2193812648478520275.post-2156541213179564052008-10-21T10:05:00.000-07:002008-10-21T10:27:41.167-07:00The One Year Anniversary of the Birth<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAPcPzSdU7o1ec9SYWQlGdxma5RLKc_jAdD_89o8Adsxk-3F94zIv2Qhm562UsMI6AjfJhbVcX6l-EBlzCnmQZCdFdyuhgKU9853OBNWSBg-492u2SxYtb-2uEzi7kNapKNR8PqT4C3zg/s1600-h/l_04afd3933bf4567709c8359e34a8342f.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259658359355341794" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAPcPzSdU7o1ec9SYWQlGdxma5RLKc_jAdD_89o8Adsxk-3F94zIv2Qhm562UsMI6AjfJhbVcX6l-EBlzCnmQZCdFdyuhgKU9853OBNWSBg-492u2SxYtb-2uEzi7kNapKNR8PqT4C3zg/s320/l_04afd3933bf4567709c8359e34a8342f.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN6nV8DdDKP68J5Wt2OIc6eTacPICkNmDBm_wQ5faSbPxuaE5cJm21DWq7XGxVWWmJ58A6g_wuelDRHwYuBmWpnIB9UjUMW026fQNw4UHtzl0UaPcpS1kY_RU7wKPCfp92FX2m0Hsvxhk/s1600-h/l_ab41a6c7ee9141a4a81539edd1bee225.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259657785761323026" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN6nV8DdDKP68J5Wt2OIc6eTacPICkNmDBm_wQ5faSbPxuaE5cJm21DWq7XGxVWWmJ58A6g_wuelDRHwYuBmWpnIB9UjUMW026fQNw4UHtzl0UaPcpS1kY_RU7wKPCfp92FX2m0Hsvxhk/s320/l_ab41a6c7ee9141a4a81539edd1bee225.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>I have not blogged in quite some time. The one year anniversary of the birth of my babies and the death of Ben is coming up in 16 days. This has been a really painful month for me because it was this time last year that I had all of my baby showers and the last couple of weeks of happiness that I had before my world came crashing down. On a positive note Braxton is doing great and growing up so much more everyday. I am trying to plan his one year birthday party but it is going to be a very difficult day for me. I don't want his birthday to be a sad day every year. He does not deserve that. Yet, I also don't want to forget about Brady and Ben on that day either. I heard about a mother who had one surviving triplet and every year on their birthday the survivor picked out two birthday balloons-one for each of her brothers. She then realeases the balloons to her brothers up in heaven so that they can share their birthday with her in some way. I kind of like that idea and may try to incorporate it into how we get through this time every year. Braxton will probably dictate to me how he wants to remember his brothers when he is old enough to understand what happened. Everyone says that the year of "firsts" is the hardest. I don't know if that is true or not but I do know that I am just really feeling the brunt of the situation a lot here recently as we prepare to face what is surely going to be another emotional time for us. </div></div>The Butlershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02401753054906219221noreply@blogger.com0