Dear Sara.

Dear Sara,

You have my word,
while your Bronson fights,
I will pray.

and pray.

and pray.

tonight,
my heart belongs to your sweet son,
every.single.beat.

I pray that God's will is aligned with ours.

Oh how I pray.

how.I.pray. . .

Please say yes.

please.

please.

PLEASE.SAY.YES!

ALL my love to you,
my forever friend I've yet to meet,

Natalie

because 200 characters are not enough.

this post is in response to this which I received in response to this. :)
and a 200 character response box? well it just wasn't enough.

Dear sweet anonymous friend,

I only spoke for me.

because I am not wonderful.

I am in fact abundantly aware of my own weakness,
such that I know, were left to go it alone,
I would crumble.

I am afraid of crumbling.

petrified.
of.
crumbling.

because I have crumbled.
too many times to count.

and when I pleaded here for help, pleaded not to be left alone,
it was because I knew my heart could not endure another breakdown.

not of that nature,
not that day.

amid kids.
and bills (of both life and medical varieties).
and discussions with insurance companies.
and calling the mortuary to wrap up final details.
and having to say "he died" one too many times to people who were
somehow still unaware.

Please know,

I do recognize
my TREMENDOUS blessings.

I live in gratitude, wonder and awe,
consistently wondering why I've been blessed with so much support.

I dance with God in my prayers.

reminding Him every day how undeserving I am.

Then, in the very next breath,
begging and pleading that He will continue to bless me so.

Then again, I acknowledge that really,
I don't deserve a lick of it.

. . . then guess what I do next?

I pray,
from the very depth of my soul
for those who do not receive the same abundant support.
For those quiet, lonely hearts that walk this horrific unknown path

alone.

I pray for you.
every single time I pray for myself,
I plead with God for you.

which is all day.
every day.
of my new life.

You mentioned feeling judged.
I have no room to judge.
I do not judge you or anyone else who walks this vicious path,
nor do I pretend to know a thing about how you feel.

I am so sorry if my words hurt your heart.

Would that I could turn around and eat them right back up. . .

I'm sorry if my journey
has caused you more pain.

I am sorry.

you're right.
I am acutely aware that
"not everyone has the world's prayers as [they] struggle"

yet, for what it's worth,
please know you have mine.

every single one.

in complete sincerity of heart,

Natalie

**Post Edited to Include:
If you choose to comment on this post,
please do so with love and respect.
xo.
N

this is not a discussion on vaccinations, except that it is.

This isn't meant to open a discussion on vaccinations,
only our eyes to a stark reality.

where we stand on the vaccination debate,
is completely irrelevant,
because either way. . .

Infectious diseases are making a comeback.

and that is an irrefutable fact.

just received the following:

"A friend posted a link to your blog and I've been following your story and praying for you.

I feel compelled to share this with you. Shortly after I started reading, I came down with what I thought was a cold. But because I've read your blog, pertussis was on my radar. I researched it. My symptoms matched. I went to the doctor. Diagnosis: pertussis.

If I hadn't read your son's story, I might have just assumed I had a nasty cold and carried on with everything, exposing God-knows-how-many babies and other vulnerable people to pertussis. I've taken two rounds of antibiotics, but I'm still quarantining myself until my symptoms clear because the thought that I could unknowingly cause a baby to suffer like your little guy did terrifies me.

So thank you for sharing your story, and increasing awareness about the still very real threat of infectious diseases."

Did you even KNOW that your immunizations wear off?

I didn't.

Not until life came and robbed me of my heart.

just this one last thing. . .

No matter how we feel about vaccinations for our respective children,
as adults, I don't think anyone can argue the fact
that staying up on our vaccinations (aka the pertussis booster)
is in fact our civic duty.

Wouldn't you agree?

ate a red pepper.

ate a red pepper.

went for a walk.

and thought about Sara. . .
and Bronson. . .
and Matt. . .
and big brothers.

snuggled my boys closer
(who knew that was even possible??).

praying praying praying.

____________________________

Is this what it felt like to be you?

Praying for me?

Praying for me and my sweet son?

. . . then thank you.

More now than ever.

because now,
I can FEEL the love with which your prayers were offered.

to.my.very.core.

and there are no words.

No words outside of
thank you.

pleading for prayers.

This is just, well,

all too familiar. . .

a mommy, a daddy, 4 brothers
the smallest of whom is dancing with death. . .

There is a woman I do not know.
Her name is Sara.

Sara has a son.

His name is Bronson.

Baby Bronson is a little over a year old.

Saturday morning,
he was found unconscious in the bathtub.
(Sara if you ever see this,
you should know how it pained me to type those words,
I wish to Heaven they weren't true. . . )

He is now being treated in the same PICU
I just walked away from with empty arms.

My ENTIRE heart and soul is being lifted up in
prayer for this beautiful woman I have never met.

I pray with all the sincerity of my soul,
that when she walks away from
those long, lonely hallways,
she does so with arms and heart filled to the brim
with every joy her faithful heart desires.

I know the fear,
I know the uncertainty,
the pain,
the sorrow,
the terror. . .

The hope.

oh. . . how familiar I became with the hope.

. . .the confident expectation that things would
be right in the end.

and for me they are.

I received my miracle. . . the way it was meant to be.

But, I am praying with ALL MY SOUL that her miracle takes a
different form.

Please join me in prayer for Sara.

Please join me in prayer for Baby Bronson.

for daddy Matt and big brothers Trev, Kade and Dayne.

for all the beautiful angels on both sides of the veil
who are attending to little Bronson's recovery.

God IS a God of miracles.

I KNOW this to be true.
as I know that the sun rises from the East,
and that the sky is blue.

I KNOW this to be true.

And sweet beautiful Sara,
I am praying for one for you.

____________________________________________

PLEASE stop by Sara's blog
and leave a comment letting her know you are
praying for her son.

She needs to know that her army is here,
lifting her up in prayer to a God who we knows hears us every time.

. . . Heaven knows sweet Gavin gave us all a lot of practice.

try again later.

Bleh.

Feeling so completely and utterly uninspired.

Try again later.

xx.

N

PS. just don't leave me forever or I'm sure to have a meltdown
of epic proportions.

in love with this.

I am completely in love with this.
Service is the sure conduit to happiness.
Of that, I am certain.

when the day is new.

Indeed, there are times when the only way the path can be followed is on one's knees.

~Niel A. Maxwell

We stood over you and we wept.

and we sang.

in cracking,
muffled voices.

"It's such a good feeling,
to know you're alive.

It's such a happy feeling,
it's growing inside.

When I wake up ready to say,
I think I'll make a snappy today.

It's such a good feeling,
a very good feeling,
the feeling you know, that,
I'll be back,
when the day is new,
and I'll have more ideas for you,
and you'll have things you'll want to talk about.

I.will.too."

and then, we said goodbye.

and when the day is new,
I'll hold you in my arms.

my sweet, perfect son.

and again, I'll weep.

this time,
tears of joy.

with a heart that's filled with happiness
to have come to the end of a journey.

a journey I'll have traveled on my knees.

love meets the crazy.

Did you see this?

love meets the crazy: by guest blogger Natalie Norton.

Check it out.

if you want.

or don't.

either way. . .

hello february.

Love smells of peanut butter and Lysol,
of fresh cut grass and the carpool lane.

Love smells of
play dates and dirty diapers
and 3 little monkeys jumping on the bed.

It smells like flour and dish soap,
baby lotion and Band-Aids.

Like baseball games and sunscreen,
hand sanitizer and barf.

Love sounds like sweet giggles
and terrorizing squeals.
Like no monsters in the closet or goblins under the bed.

It sounds like "I'll be your best freh'end"
and "you can't come to my birthday party!"

Like toy trains and bonfires,
Go Fish and big surf.

Like bank statements and kites,
recycling and taking out the trash.

Love looks like date nights and trampolines,
matinees and happy meals.

It looks like swimming in the rain and dancing in the kitchen.

Like singing at the top of your lungs
and skipping to my lou.

It looks like a house full of giggles
and a heart full of prayers.

Love is an angel waiting for you in Heaven
and the arms of God encircling you while you wait.

water water everywhere and not a drop to drink.

Everywhere I go,
and I mean EVERYWHERE.I.GO,
there are babies.

Babies at church.
Babies at the grocery store.
Babies at the beach.
Babies at the park.
Babies snuggled happily in strollers at the mall.
Babies bouncing on daddy's knee at the restaurant.

Babies.
Babies.
Babies.

It seems there's only one place a baby is not,
and that's in my empty arms.

Maybe I should pop a binkie
in Richie's face and just play pretend?

oh yes.

:)

when we find ourselves asking, "why?"

Tonight I read,

"[He] shall go forth amongst men, working mighty miracles, such as healing the sick, raising the dead, causing the lame to walk, the blind to hear, and curing all manner of diseases"

and for the first time,
and completely despite myself,
I heard my heart whisper,
"why?"

"why not him?
why not my son?"

The answer came as quickly as the fleeting questions.

"And lo, he shall suffer temptations, and pain of body, hunger, thirst, and fatigue, even more than man can suffer, except it be unto death; for behold, blood cometh from every pore, so great shall be his anguish. . . . and lo, he cometh unto his own, that salvation might come unto the children of men."

and I realized.

He also could have spared himself.

but he didn't.

He didn't spare himself.

. . . because he loves me.

He wanted to feel what he knew I would have to feel,
every ounce of it,
so he would know how to comfort me.

And then He willingly died
so He could break the bands of death. . .

that my son might do the same.

That he might one day,
be by my side. . .

forever.

. . . it is through my suffering,
though comparatively insignificant it may be,
that I will come to know Him.

That I may one day,
be by His side. . .

forever.

and guess what?
he loves you in the same, perfect way.

You see?

God is good.
All the time.

impossible.

It is utterly impossible for me to believe
that it was only a month ago tomorrow that
Gavin was admitted to the hospital.

That was the last time I really HELD him in my arms
and felt his sweet, warm skin against my cheek.

Truth be told,
I thought they were just going to give him some fluids. . .
and send him home.

Little.did.I.know.

I see pictures of us from Christmas.

I see them, and I think,
oh that poor ignorant girl.

That poor sorry little soul.

She has no idea she's about to get hit by a bus. . .

and then a baseball bat. . .

and then a shovel. . .

and on
and on
and on

I see her and I want to jump into the photograph,
shake her and scream,

"WAKE UP!

Cuddle him closer.

Kiss him more tenderly.

Say his name with more reverence and awe.

Count his fingers and toes one more time,
just for good measure.

He's leaving you. . .

and there's nothing you can do to stop him."

______________________________________

and yet,

"all men have a sweetness in their life,
that's what helps them go on."
-Albert Camus

and if I shake myself awake,
in the real here and now,
I can see that even yet,
there IS sweetness all around.

barf.

aaaaaaand,
I carried a baby blanket around with me all day.

Even wrapped the darn thing around my neck to disguise
it as a scarf (per a friend's suggestion).
Didn't work by the way.

It just looked like,
well, it looked like a baby blanket.

Tied around my neck.

Oh and by the way,
"barf"?

Well, that's a combination of
"baby blanket" and "scarf"
while simultaneously serving as a description
of what I looked like wearing it.

a little sad on top.

Today I was sad.

just sad.

and lonely.

with a little more sad on top.

and a little more lonely on the side.

. . . and then,
well,
then i felt embarrassed for feeling that way.

and I started to feel ungrateful for all the wonders of my life
that are STILL HERE,
in my life.

for they are not few.

no.sir.

I'll limit myself here to 5.

#1.

I'm grateful for God.

His love feels EVEN SWEETER
juxtaposed against the terrible sorrow.

Only He would be fancy enough to pull THAT off!

#2.

I 'm thankful for the little while I had with my Gavin.

He could have never.even.existed.

and that thought is
horrifying to me.

Because:

Despite the acute, tormenting pain,
I'm TRULY glad to know what I'm missing.

#3.

I'm grateful for Richie,
who despite the intensity of his own pain,
loves, comforts and supports me through mine.

I chose WELL.
and frankly, just got incredibly lucky.

#4.

I'm grateful for my living children.

Who drove me crazy today.

The crazy reminded me that I was alive,
and blessed to have 3 beautiful, living children to drive me nuts
every day . . .

and pee on the sidewalk to ensure that
our entry way smells like an outhouse.

#5.

I'm grateful that I haven't felt sorry for myself.

not yet at least.

no promises.

We can lift ourselves, and others as well, when we refuse to remain in the realm of negative thought and cultivate within our hearts an attitude of gratitude. If ingratitude be numbered among the serious sins, then gratitude takes its place among the noblest of virtues.

Thomas S. Monson

I'm not trying to say I'm Virtue Woman,
not by ANY stretch of the imagination,
that quote is just a lovely reminder.

what are YOU thankful for?

do tell.
I would LOVE to hear.

huppy burfday.

Today is my brother's birthday.

He would have been 24 years old.



Mom,

Don't be sad about the door decorating.
I'm CERTAIN that the crepe paper is better in Heaven.

He loves you.

So do I.

Natty

Namaste.

There are a few things in my life
for which I feel indescribable PASSION.

My family.

ABSOLUTELY.

God.

Yes sir.

aaaaaaaand,

Yoga.

but I have to admit.
Post baby numero quatro?

HOLY MOLEY.

Can I get an "ow "to the "ch"?

boobies and blankets.

yesterday night,
we came home to Raleigh,
asleep in our bed,
clutching Gav's baby blanket to his cheek.

I got the lump.

this afternoon,
Lincoln came up to me,
sat on my lap and stared at my boobs.

"mommy? is there still milk in your boobies?"

"no lincoln, there is not."

I got the lump.

uh still the throat kind, not the breast kind.

just thought I should clarify
because we were talking about boobs
so some confusion would only be natural.

seems like I get the lump a lot these days.

ahh.

C'est la vie.

mess of a mother.

I'm so grateful for all the "mom praise"
I've gotten from so many of you lovelies out there.

But just so you know. . .
I'm a mess of a mother 99% of the time.

For example,
once I couldn't find my (then) 3 year old
outside of Costco.

I was searching around the food area
for about 30 seconds
and panic was about to ensue.

I frantically turned the corner.

I found my son.

Peeing.

on.
the.
ground.
right.
at.
the.
entrance.
of.
the.
warehouse.

True story.

Told you.
Mess.of.a.mother.
.

Hmm.

Remember when I used to be a photographer?
And this blog used to have pictures on it?

Bwahahahahahaaaaaa!

One.day.soon.

yes.