Logan Patrick

It has been five years since we said goodbye to our baby knowing that he would be joining his brother in Heaven. Actually it was five years back in January that we were given the devastating news that this pregnancy was not unlike our first and the chances of survival are less than 1% and they were 99.9% sure of the diagnosis. With our first son (1995) we were blissfully unaware of the tragedy we would soon be facing but with our last son (2002) we were armed with knowledge. The only thing that did for us was give us the 'option' of terminating the pregnancy (which was covered up by a big fancy word and I think legally they had to give that option--what's best for the mothers physical/mental health at this point). Funny though they gave this option/procedure as they called it, at another location, a Methodist hospital across town. Why did my Catholic hospital not offer this 'procedure' since I was already a patient there. I soon realized that the big fancy word they used actually meant termination of pregnancy. Makes you wonder why they don't just come out and say you should murder your baby because he'll die anyway! Would they even dream of telling a cancer patient that they should give up because they are going to die anyway!?

The choices were given to us and we returned home to 'think about it' but they reassured us that the sooner the decision was made the better for both mother and child. To me and my husband there was no choice. How could I play "God" and decide when the life of this precious baby should be taken!!? God blessed us with this child and like for us all he will decide when to bring us home again. I wasn't thinking of gee am I going to have this baby or not, I was thinking of how I was going to explain all this to my then 4 and almost two year old. How would I explain to them that the baby they asked Jesus to give us was going to live in Heaven instead of with us on earth.

The doctor's reassured me that the 'procedure' was safe (thinking: safe for who...do you know the outcome here?) and they set up an appointment for me right away. I was to meet at Riverside Hospital at 6am to prepare for 'surgery'. It all happened so fast. I was bombarded with this news and questions from all corners. Our family and friends wanted what was best for us, thinking I needed to do what was best for us, as a family. I had two small children I had to think about. Would I want to risk MY health and risk my girls growing up without a mother. Would I DO this to my husband, have him raise these girls on his own?!

Some people didn't say anything. Some made it obvious that 'early demise' was the best choice for mother and baby. Some prayed with me. Some avoided me. And then there was our pastor at the time, Father Lutz. He guided us in the right direction and instead of carrying our 'cross' for us, he taught us how best to carry it and carry on. God 'chose' us. How special was that? God gave me this precious child that only I could hold for the short time he was mine.

Needless to say we canceled the appointment that I think they were pushing on me. We never once thought of abortion...let's be honest here, that's what it would have been. No matter how you say it or what technical name you give it, it would have still been abortion. We waited from Monday January 21st until Saturday March 16th. That seemed like a long time and at the same time not nearly enough time. That was 55 days. 8 weeks. 2 months! We did what we could in the short time we had together. And like Fr Lutz said, "you need to love this baby to death." Seems like harsh words but there was nothing else to do. I needed to give this baby a lifetime of love in a short time frame.

My darling Logan, I know you are watching over us and keeping very busy some days more than others watching over your siblings and cousins. Thank you God for the many blessing in my life, including the children you have chosen to be with you.

The Old Barn

Whether it was at Farm A or Farm B, in regards to my farm life, there is little better than the memory of the old barns. I remember not too too long ago (less than 20 years ago anyway) being able to go to the barn and just be. Most of the time I had to clean pens, feed calves, milk cows (and not the fancy 'with a machine' way, hand milking). Then there were the chickens that were mostly my brother's responsibility, I should blog about that for sure! And we had the occassional sheep, goats, never any horses, I always wanted horses. We had lots of pigs.....lots and lots of pigs. We had a farrow to finish operation. We would stay with the pigs while they had their piglets. Sometimes it was difficult to watch. Many times one would come out not able to stretch out of its sack and needed a little intervention. Some would get out and only had enough strength to do just that. We had to rub them and give a gentle shake to 'wake' it up. I remember staying up in shifts to watch the 'new mothers' and be there for them, maybe to help the little ones, maybe to be a 'coach' for the first time mommy's.

But I digress, that is for another blog (I have got a lot of blogging to do). I would take a little extra time feeding the animals, making sure they felt wanted. Making sure they got everything they needed. I wanted to make certain that each animal was taken care of. Now looking back, this was a farm. An operational farm. I knew deep down that these weren't pets. It about killed me the first day the loading truck came to take the now grown and 'ready stock' away. But I loved being in the barn. After the snorts and moo's were calmed with ample food I was able to take time for me. The loft above the barn (an attic of sorts) held the hay/straw that needed to be put down for the animals. A large 'picture window' (actually the spot where the conveyor dumped the newly bailed hay/straw) was my favorite place to sit. I remember sitting and watching the cars go by...not that many on an old country road. Thinking about the hows and whys of the world that I hadn't yet figured out on my own and hadn't yet gotten the nerve to ask either my siblings or parents. With the smell of the animals below (sounds crazy but there is sucha thing as fresh country air) and the soft breeze blowing. Not many cares in the world....ah those were the days. I wouldn't trade my life today for anything but I wish I had realized then what peace there was in silence.

I would sometimes go to the old barn and just reflect. About something that I didn't think was right, how I had to work so hard for some things and younger siblings had it handed to them, how no matter how hard I tried it seemed I couldn't be as good as, pretty as, or as popular as older siblings. How I knew God was out there, smiling down on me, but why?! I could sit and talk, really talk to God but mostly just sit and listen. Oh how I miss the old barn.

My old barn now-a-days is in the form of adoration at the nearby church. I miss just being able to run out and scream, just sit and watch the world go by, not have to 'make an appointment' to visit with God. I know I can go anytime, not just my committed hour but how nice it was just to go whenever and sometimes even find myself there in the old barn and for no other reason but I went for a walk.

The truth

We often say, "it's her story she can tell it however she wants." Sounds like a sarcastic remark. Actually it is. It doesn't matter if we were there or if we witnessed it or if it even happened. It's her story she can tell it how she wants. This is because often times over the years some people tend to "forget" how bad it was or be so scarred by how bad they thought it was and tend to add to the drama. True you may have had a difficult childhood but try to remember what really happened and not just out of your own self imposed anger of the situation, add a little bit to make the story juicy.



The truth doesn't change according to our ability to stomach it. - Flannery O'Connor


Or on the flip side make your situation that was good to begin with overwhelmingly better by adding memories you wish would have been truth. Just because you didn't like how things were in life doesn't mean you can change it to fit your needs.

Listen to me ramble. There are all sorts fo people out there. I could go on and on. I may one day. It just gets to me when people have to be 'one better' or 'one worse' than anything you ever did or said....just to be the "mostest"!

we make a living...

We make a living by what we get, we make a life by what we give.

Sir Winston Churchill (1874 - 1965)

One of my favorite quotes and I often wonder what will be said about me when my time is through. Did I give enough? Will people know what I had to give?

Children

Our children change us... whether they live or not.
Lois McMaster Bujold,

Breakfast

Today little sister woke up and immediately came running into our room. She hollered, "mom, I haven't had the most important meal of the day!" I reassured her that at 7am she still has plenty of time to get that in!

: )

Success

-The measure of success is not whether you have a tough problem to deal with, but whether it is the same problem you had last year. John Foster Dulles

Lost Mind

I have not lost my mind - it's backed up on disk somewhere.