The Veil is Thin

Fifteen minutes after he came, I was pacing the floor.

I was scared.

I was worried, that me having him at home, and not in a hospital, had hurt him.

And I kept asking everyone if they thought he was going to die.

He only weighed 4lbs 8oz!

 And I thought I had done something to cause the growth restriction too.

And the stress of the situation made me hemorrhage profusely.

And I went to the bathroom to clean up.

And I passed-out while I was sitting on the toilet.

And my midwife and Tom rushed in and caught me before I hit the ground.

And they carried me to the bed, and lay me on a plastic sheet.

And I came to and cried and asked if my baby was okay.

And the midwife was massaging my uterus,

and clearing clots from my womb,

and telling me that I had to calm down or I would die.

She worked and massaged my uterus for quite sometime

and she told me that stress makes a bleeding mother, bleed more.

She said I HAD to stay down for the next 12 hours to make the hemorrhaging stop!

 

And I told her I wanted to nurse my baby, and she said he would need some formula for now.

And she told Tom to go and get a bottle and feed the baby for me while I rested.

For the next 12 hours I thought about what I had done.

I wondered what I had done to cause this.

And I tried to come up with a name for my baby.

And I kept envisioning, the names I'd pick, on headstones.

And I felt so horrible, I thought I was dying too.

And I thought about a double funeral for the baby and me.

 

 

And all of this time, Tom was downstairs, in my chair, holding and feeding our new baby.

Tom remembers the baby and him making eye contact for a very long time.

And he said that he felt like the baby looked deep into his soul.

And he and the baby bonded just by staring at each other.

And Tom said it was the deepest stare he had ever had with any of his children.

And he knew they had known each other before this life

and that it was like the baby was saying "Hi, again!"

 

And Tom brought the baby back to me when the 12 hours had finally passed.

 And he handed him to me and told me about the staring contest.

And I told Tom I was thinking of naming the baby 'Bradley'.

And Tom agreed that would be a good name for the little guy.

 

And as we have progressed on this journey,

so many people have told me that Bradley choose to come to this body.

And that has never felt right to me.

I think Bradley knew WHAT he was coming to.

I think he knew WHO he was coming to.

But because he had never been to a mortal body before,

 I'm not sure he totally understood the journey till he got here.

 

But Bradley has always had a quiet calmness all around him.

And tonight I'm understanding why.

The veil is thin for Bradley.

And he understands the eternal plan.

And this is not distressing to him, like it is for me.

He is not scared to fulfill Heavenly Father's mission for him.

 

He sees the beginning, middle and end, so perfectly.

And he is comforted to be with me while the angels reach around us.

 

And if I'm quiet enough;

and I hope enough,

while I hold him;

I think the veil thins for me too.

And I can see a very tiny glimpse into eternity with my Bradley.

 



The Intended Mother

 

Every time, I tell Charlotte about a new baby that has been born,
 she asks me two questions;

1.) Does the baby walk?

2.) Does the baby breath?

 

 

Charlotte thinks all babies have g-tubes and oxygen and cannot walk.

It's a little confusing for her.

Bradley will always be our baby.

And she brought me her baby doll today

 and showed me how her baby doll could hold up her head.

That made me chuckle.

 

And the babies Bradley's ages, are not only walking now,

but they are starting to look like really big kids!!

When I see his peers, I'm more shocked than sad anymore.

 

 

I'm starting to forget about Bradley's pregnancy.

The birth.

The pain.

The NICU.

Some of those memories, I'm glad to be rid of!

 

 

Jacob turned 7 on Saturday,
and I tried to remember the details of his birth,

 and I could not remember!

Memories I thought, I would NEVER forget, are gone.

 

For the longest time, I was SO sad things hadn't turn out how I had planned.

But time really does heal all wounds.

And I am grateful memories fade!!

 

I'm am the mother of these four children.

I am a mother of two girls and two boys.

I am a special needs mother.

I am a mother to a medically complex child.

And I know, someday, I will be the mother to an angel.

And I know this IS the mother that Heavenly Father intended when he created me.

It's more than just a calling.

It's was how it was supposed to be all along.

 

I didn't have a better plan then Heavenly Father's plan.

No one does.

This is the intended mother.

 

The Door into Heaven

 

I had a hard weekend.

Mostly because of Bradley's breathing.

All of Saturday and part of Sunday morning, he was holding his breath occasionally.

He'd skip 5 or more breaths.

And when he'd finally breath again, he'd gasp for air.

And he did not cry. It was like he was okay without getting air.

It's was a hard 36 hours for me.

And on Sunday morning, we were getting ready for church, even while Bradley gasped for air.

And I asked Tom if he wanted to open a fast with me.

I asked him what he wanted to fast for.

And he shook his head and said with a chuckle, "I don't know."

And I said I wanted to fast for Bradley again.

Fast for the 22nd month in a row for my Son.

And we knelt by the bed, and we offered a prayer and both of us sobbed the entire time.

And Bradley lay on the bed near us and heard our petition to God.

And I'm certain he heard our tears too.

 

 

And when we finished I sat and held Bradley's hands to my face.

To my tear soaked cheeks.

And I bathed his hands and his arms in my tears.

And I whispered in Bradley's ear that I was okay if he had to go do the work in heaven now.

And I told Bradley I would be coming right behind him.

That I would see him again.

By this time we were already very late for church.

And Bradley was still gasping for air.

And I told Tom we needed to just go!!

It's not like Bradley was bothered by the breathing troubles.

And that he would be fine at church.

But I NEEDED to go.

 



 

And we faithfully went.

And somewhere between sacrament and Sunday school, Bradley stopped with the breathing tricks.

And I finally could breath too.

 

Jacob and I were talking tonight before bed.

I asked Jacob what he knew about heaven.

He told me he knew Bradley was going there.

And I asked him how he knew that.

He said that there are three kingdoms,

and during the judgement,

kids like Bradley will get to go through a little door to the best kingdom.

I asked him where he had heard about this door;

And he said it was just something he knew as he shrugged his shoulders.

 

 

I think I know about that door too.

And I'm certain Bradley will be whisked right through that door.

I have to make it back with him!!

And I think he wants to know for sure I am coming behind him, before he can go.

Bradley, I'm coming.

I promise you.

 I will!!

 

 



Stuck at Two Months

 

I found this picture the other day.

It nearly took my breath away.

Tears instantly to my eyes.

 

Such a beautiful family!!

Jacob was exactly Bradley's age in this picture.

And Madeleine is exactly Charlotte's age.

All of my children are the exact same spaces apart,

because I'm a planner and a bit of a perfectionist.

Just a - tiny bit - of a perfectionist.

It's painful to see pictures of Jacob when he was two.

Because of Bradley.

Because of everything Bradley is not doing.

Because of all the systems that are failing in his body.

Really sucks to think about how broken Bradley is.

I've known him forever.

I know who he is.

And his shell reflects NOTHING of the man Bradley is.

I wish EVERYONE could see it.

 

 

 

I was in a store today.

The check out line is so hard.

Everyone looks at Bradley.

And the employees of the store, saw the stroller

and were trying to peak in at Bradley and asked how old my baby was.

I said "two" and held up two fingers.

She said, "2 months?"

I said - "No. Two years."

I turned his stroller so she could see the tubes.

And she gasped.

I said, "He has health problems. He's very sick."

And she looked puzzled.

And made me repeat what I had said.

 

Again, "HE HAS HEALTH PROBLEMS! HE'S VERY SICK!"

And she stared at us with a look of shock and pity.

And now another cashier was staring too. Same look.

 

I'm kind of used to this. Happens almost every time we are out with at least one person.

 

 

The hardest thing for me is the pictures.

I cannot get him in a picture with the kids, except if they are all lying down.

Wish he could be in so many of the pictures I take, but physically he cannot.



 

This beautiful memory of my children is missing one thing.

Bradley

Why is so much taken away from us sometimes?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tonight I found the answer to that question while looking through these pictures -

Bradley came so that this woman:

 

 

 

 

 

Could turn into this woman:

 

 

  I could never have grown without Bradley.

I would have been stuck as the old girl forever.

Thank you Bradley, for coming to change me!!
I owe you Son <3

 

Hope and the Will to Live

The hospice nurse was here today.

 He's newer to the company.

New to hospice care.

He told me while he checked Bradley today, that he had his very first baby pass.

He said she was a little girl.

 He had only first met her three weeks ago.

He said you could hear her breath in the other room.

Her airway was very constricted.

She only was filling the top 20% of her lung capacity.

He said she would definitely get a tracheotomy if her Mommy had wanted it.

But her Mommy had chosen hospice instead.

 

 

And on Thursday her Mommy called him out to the house because she was worried about her baby.

And when he got there he could tell she was getting close to passing.

She had the look.

They called Daddy to come home.

And he came home and wanted to take her to the hospital and put her on a machine.

And after two hours of talking, Dad realized he didn't want to.

And she passed on Friday night.

 

 

 I told him I hope Tom and I can stick to the decisions we have made.

That we've priced the funeral. And I've picked where I'm going to bury him.

 

And the nurse said that I've gotten to the 5th stage of acceptance then.

And I started to cry and told him, today I was feeling at the 2nd stage.

The mad stage.

I'm still mad Bradley has to do this.

And he said it was okay to go backward in the stages.

 As long as I've been to the acceptance stage, once before.

 

And I said that I still have hope for Bradley.

That I can see him being a 30 year old man and walking around.

And the nurse gave me a funny look, and we both laughed as he said, "He's not going to walk!"

 

 

And Bradley has been grinding his teeth this week.

And I've wondered why he was doing it.

And his arms and legs seem weaker lately too.

I think he is feeling low on energy.

 

 

And I realized this week, Bradley is fighting what his body is trying to do.

Sometimes I think I see him fighting off the seizures too.

 

He wants to be here with us.
His will to live is great.

And when he finally lets that go, he will go too.

He will stop crying on the nights he cannot breath. 

And he will let the lack of oxygen take him to his heavenly home.

I'm glad I understand now how much he wants to be here!!

 

 

I still have hope.

And I will have that hope, up until the very last breath!!

And even then I will hope that someday he will get his body back, and he WILL walk!!
I will never let go of the hope!!



Hero of the Heart

 

 Bradley's hospice doctor was here on Monday.

Bradley has sounded like he's breathing through water for a month now.

Seriously junky.

 

 

And she suggested we try taking down his water intake.

Problem is he's already really low.

But on days where the mucous just oozes out of his mouth, it works to turn off his food.

So I thought I'd try it.

It reminds me of when my Grandmother was passing and she would only drink little sips.

She had no use for food and didn't eat for the whole last month.

 

 

So we turned down the liquid food. And guess what? It caused other problems.

He couldn't eliminate.

And yesterday he was screaming in pain trying to get it out.

It's a fine balance.

Tom suggested we go higher one day and lower the next.
I think that is what we will try.

It did make him sound better.

 

 

Those watery breaths are just scary.

It sounds like he's drowning sometimes.

 

 

On Sunday there was a baby blessing.  

And the babies uncle has Downs Syndrome and he is about my age.

And he got up and bore his testimony.

And his words touched my heart.

And I cried the entire time he spoke.

He is such a hero.

Such an example.

And if there was ever a testimony I was privileged to hear, it was his.

 

There was a time I was grateful Bradley didn't have Down Syndrome, but now I wish he did!!

I'm jealous of the prognosis.

And that reminds me to be grateful for what I have - right now!

Bradley has saved my heart in so many ways.

He is my hero of my heart.

 

The Suction Machine and A Chair for Bradley

Some of my earliest memories from Primary are a suction machine being used.

There was a little boy in my primary who had suffered a near drowning when he was a baby.

He was resuscitated by his family members and the emergency crew.

He did require a tracheotomy to breath from the accident forward.

He also suffered enough brain damage that he never walked. Never talked.

He was a sweet spirit.

And I remember him sitting in the back of the Primary room in his chair.

And you could hear when he needed to be suctioned.

And I remember the sound of the suction machine.

How loud it was.

 

I also remember when the Primary lost those sounds.

How sad his family was.

But I remember on more than one occasion hearing his Mommy talk about his passing.

And the miracles she felt around the time of his passing.

 

 

Bradley has had lots of secretions this week.

I've needed to use his suction machine daily.

And every time I turn it on,
I remember the boy from my Primary.

And his family.

And I'm starting to really love that machine.

 

 

Now that I'm having a break from the appointments,

I'm trying to get done all of the things I have neglected since Bradley's birth.

I walked into a store the other day with intentions of buying new running shoes.

My old ones had gone flat.

And as Charlotte, Bradley, and I rounded the store, my eyes caught sight of a little chair.

It had cream upholstery and a slouched back.

I sat it in and found it was also very comfy.

And the tag reflected a sizable mark down.

I couldn't figure why it would be marked so low.

It looked in perfect condition.

 

And I picked it up and tried to figure how I would get it to the register while I was pushing Bradley.

But suddenly a male employee appeared out of no where.

I asked if he could take it to the register for me; that I wanted to purchase the chair.

 

 

And he looked down at Bradley and said it would be no problem.

And as I pushed Bradley to the register, another lady looked at Bradley in his stroller.

She offered me a cut in the line.

And the check out counters were high.

And the employees behind them couldn't see my Bradley.

I thought that perhaps they would offer me help to my car, but they didn't.

And that was okay.

I would work it out somehow.

Even if I had to put the chair down and rest,

on the way to my car, we would eventually make it.

 

And the lady who had let us cut the line,

caught up to us and offered to push Bradley,

while I carried the chair.

I told her how grateful I was for her help.

And about half way to the car she asked what was wrong with my baby.

 

Where should I start?

 

And I told her that he was having all sorts of problems.

That he was getting close to turning two and no one really understood what was wrong.

But that his development was now regressing and he had been admitted to hospice care.

And she started to cry and asked if she could bless my son.

 

And she said a prayer as she held Bradley's hand.

And she told God she believed in miracles and that she was asking him for one.

And when she finished we were both crying.

And she and I hugged.

I wasn't sure what to say, except for thank you.

 

And she was part of a miracle for Bradley.

But not the one that she expected.

She helped me to get a chair that I could take pictures of Bradley in.

Pictures that I will always remember him with.

 

I've talked about miracles before.

So many miracles Bradley has been a part of.

But not the miracles most men expect or want.

Of course, I would prefer a miraculous recovery for Bradley.

But if that never happens, and he passes too early,

I want to remember the miracles that happened all around him.

And this was just another one of those miracles.

The miracle of the chair.