William Richmond Memorial Scholarship

At our end of year honors ceremony at our school, we once again had the privilege of presenting a student with a memorial scholarship in honor of Will. This year was so incredibly special as many students had such a prayerful connection to Will and we just feel so grateful for their outpouring of love and support. One student, in particular, this year holds a special place in our family as he sang at Will’s funeral, sang at the Angel of Hope ceremony and I know has held us in his prayers when we needed them most. As my principal read the description of the award, before he even knew that it would be presented to him, he was filled with tears. There was no doubt it my mind that he was the right choice for Will’s scholarship. After the ceremony his mother stopped me and said of all awards that Nolan could receive, this one meant the most to their family. I have no doubt we did our boy proud today.

Additionally, it was a big pat on the back for our World Language Department at the honors ceremony. Three awards are given each year to faculty and this year they all three went to Spanish teachers. Alexis was presented the Excellence in Teaching Award, Vicki the St. Francis Xavier Award and I was presented the City of God award. It was humbling to receive such an awesome award but I truly was more excited to see my amazing colleague acknowledged for their hard work. I teach with some awesome people!

Graduation week was an emotional one. Some phenomenal students are graduating this year and the senior speaker (Peter) addressed his class at Baccalaureate mentioning Will by name. As he recounted his junior year, the Cubs winning the World Series and praying for our sweet boy, it felt like it was all just a blink ago. It made my heart ache to think of how much we miss Will, but it was so heartwarming to think of all the people that he touched and to hear others say his name aloud. This class holds a special place in my heart, but I know they are off to do great things.

3/13 💙💙💙

Papers are graded. Final grades are in. Quarters have switched. Now to tackle conferences. The real posts should resume again soon. In the meantime; my lastest CRMB post: Homies with Extra Chromies.

Happy 1/2 birthday, Will... we continue to love and miss you everyday!

Sunrise

Sunrises pull at my heart strings. For 8 weeks straight I witnessed some of the most beautiful sunrises with Will. We spent each morning snuggled up questioning just how the sun would break the horizon and what colors the sun would paint the sky. Most of our evenings were spent the same way. I'm missing my boy something awful lately. 

The sunrises lately have been beautiful (though the photos don't do it justice). 

I'm not sure if it makes February seem better or worse. Mornings are getting harder and harder to get out of bed, but these sunrises always make it worth it. I just want to snuggle in, put our new favorite cover on repeat, and reminisce what it was like to snuggle my boy each morning. 

Angel of Hope

December 6 is known as Saint Nicholas Day (Childrens Day) throughout many parts of the world and coincidentally enough, it also coincides with the Angel of Hope. At 7pm on December 6 there is a prayer service at the base of each of the Angel of Hope statues placed throughout the world. These statues are a symbol of hope and comfort for all those that are grieving the loss of a child. I remember the day that this statue was dedicated at my school and what a powerful representation this must have been for families that had lost their children. My assumptions then were right. It has now become a powerful place to be and pray for me as well.

Last year, thanks to so many of you who contributed to Will's memorial, we were able to run lights to this dark statue. It was the only thing on our campus that stood without light. For the prayer service each year, they ran battery-operated flood lights that were kicked over and tripped on numerous times throughout the service. It was so disheartening to think that a statue that represents hope and light, was only lit once a year. We can't thank you enough for your support in helping run electricity to it. We love turning the corner between our house and the school and seeing the shadow of the statue hugely portrayed on the side of the building from a distance through the trees at night. It's as if, in a way, it is joinging Heaven and Earth. 

The prayer service this year was the coldest one yet, but the light warmed my heart. Grace set Norah's WillBear at the base of the Angel and it was sad, yet encouraging, to think of all the other nostaligic items that people around the world were placing at the base of their angels at that exact same moment. All pf them wishing, just like us, that they could trade that beloved item for just one more moment, touch, smell, sound of their precious child. It was a beautiful prayer service and wonderful reminder to us that Will continues to spread light in this world even after his death. 

November's gone

November is over. Each November I do a "30 days of thanks" journal to keep things in perspective and make sure that my priorities are still in line with my values. Though something that I should do every day of the year, November is where I make it a priority. This year, I did not. November was really hard. Everyday functions were about all I could manage (thus the lack of blog posts until recently). Amazingly enough, it seemed even harder than last year. Last year the first few weeks were amazing and the last were...well, a bit of a blur. This year, although Will holds a special place in the hearts of many, our hardest days were "just another day" for most people. It was the heartbreak that I knew awaited, but made November feel especially long. 

The hardest day for me, ironically, did not fall on his anniversary. It fell a few days prior at our annual Memorial Mass at school. This Mass honors the loved ones of former graduates, teachers and friends of our school and is beautiful each year. I have always walked away from it thankful for these beautiful people yet emotionally depleted remembering former students, co-workers, and friends who have been lost all-to-soon. It is hard to transition from that mindset, back to an academic one. This year was really hard. After a brief stop off in the bathroom to pull myself together after Mass, I screwed on my happy face and dug in. I have never wanted to escape my job so much. No student deserved the teacher I was that day: lackadaisical, apathetic, emotionally drained. 

But with the darkness comes the dawn. Out of the blue that day I received a message from my front office to pick up a package. A group of older men from my church had sent me a beautiful bouquet of flowers with the message; Where there's a way, there's a Will. It warmed my heart. I barely know these men, yet their message of support found me on one of my darker days. I was so thankful. 

After a hard day at school, it made me contemplate taking Will's anniversary off of work since I didn't take his birthday off. I knew, however, keeping busy that day would be better for my head. Instead of following my head though, I followed my heart and my heart led me down the right path. I called in sick and had the time I needed to help one of my girls through one of her harder days. She refused to get out of bed on the 17th. She and I both knew that the date on the calendar was more than just a number and she didn't want to wake up again until that number had changed. I coaxed her out of bed by telling her I would let her skip her first hour of class, and I would skip mine and we would attend Mass together - just the two of us. Hearing the Mass offered up for Will gave us the strength to face the day. He was not forgotten and we would spend the day strong and joyful and loving the life we have been given. We walked over to her school after Mass, ready to take on the day with joy. 

Until we hit the main lobby and she stopped walking that is. "My legs won't move" she told me. 

I can scold sass talk, I can punish poor behavior, I can handle tantrums like a boss...I have yet to figure out how to parent heartbreak. 

I grabbed her hand and one tiny step at a time we made it down the hallway. We counted the stairs as we walked up them and slowly made our way to her classroom. I opened the door and lightly prodded her through. We have this safe, wonderful, and supportive school, yet I felt like I had just fed her to the wolves. 

I got back to the car and lost it. I cried for her. I cried for Will. I cried at how hard parenting can be. I knew the best thing for her was to go to school and stay busy. To spread her beautiful, joyful smile to all of those who might also be having a tough day. To be strong and brave in even the hardest of situations. But, I felt like such a hypocrite. I was asking my daughter to do something that even I wasn't willing to do. Face the world on a day when you want nothing more that to hide in the safety of your covers. 

Will's anniversary came and went and we persevered. We stayed busy and surrounded ourselves with loved ones. We cherished the rainy day and the fact that it seemed as though God still weeps with us. We looked forward to the next beautiful sunrise and the hope of another day. We ended the day as we do every day...thankful for the blessings we have and praying for the grace to make the most of the blessings that await. 

The went down on the 16th with a most beautiful of sunsets and didn't show itself again until the 18th. Even the sun has troubles shining some days...

Wonder-ful

We don't often go to movies. This "affordable family fun" isn't often affordable when you're looking at dropping $50 for 2 hours of nothing more than sitting. Plus, who doesn't want a $14 tub of popcorn to go with it?!

However, I coughed up the cash to see, "Wonder" not only once, but twice. This book by R.J. Palacio has shaped our lives. It's hard to believe that I first read it nearly 5 years ago, but since, my daughters have all read it as well. I loved its message of kindness, but moreso I loved its message of bravery. To stand up for what is right. To stick up for people when they are in need. To be brave enough to put yourself in uncomfortable situations so that you might grow.

When reading it, I never in my wildest dreams would have imagined that someday we would understand first-hand the looks that people give you of pity, fear, or questioning when you have a child with a facial deformity. I would have never guessed that my daughters might feel "secondary" to a sibling because he required a little more TLC than most. I would have never imagined that this fiction book would supply such non-fiction parallels right down to saying good-bye to our first "baby" and furry companion, Daisy.

I would never have imagined.

Wonder drove so many of our discussions as we prepared for Will. From what he might look like to how people might treat us, this book served as our springboard for so many tough discussions that we didn't know how to start.

So the irony of its release date being Nov 17th, the first year anniversary of saying goodbye to our "wonder," was a heartwarming coincidence to say the least. I was unsure if the theater was where we should be when we first experienced our favorite book come to film. I thought maybe we should wait until it released to DVD so that we could watch it, cry over it, fall in love with it, all in the privacy of our own home. However, the girls begged to see it. So, I spent Will's first anniversary in a dark theater, with my mom, 2 sisters, and a load of tissues; previewing the screen adaptation of a novel that held the hearts of my favorite little people. It was beautiful. Equal parts heartache and healing, the comedic timing was spot on for ensuring that just when we thought our hearts couldn't handle any more, our tears became smiles.

Four days later, we found ourselves off of school, with a family day during Thanksgiving break. We loaded up and headed to the movies. It was great to know what we were getting into and even better when the girls commented on how special it was to see it on the one year anniversary of Will's funeral. They loved it, which made me love it even more. If you haven't read the book, I recommend you read it prior to seeing the movie. If you have read the book, don't miss out on this incredible adaptation. We don't buy DVD's often, but once this one is released it will definitely become a part of our permanent collection.

Thank you again to all of those that stood up for our little wonder and helped spread the message that every life is extraordinary.

Love never fails...

Above our bed we have a sign that reads, "Love never fails" 1 Corinthians 13:8. I love this sentiment as it is the Bible reading from our wedding and has rung true for us over the past 15 years. However, it was also the first thing that popped into my mind as I crossed the finish line on Sunday. I went to Chicago to get my questions answered, and the answer was literally staring at me in the face the whole time...love never fails. 

My expectations for the marathon didn't really hold true. I wasn't as anxious as I thought I was going to be. The weather didn't seem as hot as predicted. I had far fewer emotional breakdowns than I had anticipated. I didn't cry when I crossed the finish line like I had imagined. My knee never really hurt, the "wall" never came, and other 'unknowns' of the day never came to fruition [though I did, in fact, lose a toenail which I never in my wildest dreams imagined happening]. :)

My heart is happy. I prayed God would help me understand Will's journey; how much pain or fear or struggle he had to endure, and I truly think I experienced it. There were moments of sadness, but mostly joy. There were parts where the emotion made it hard to breathe, but the people who love me got me through them. I was fatigued toward the end, but if someone asked me to keep going, I truthfully could have. However, when I reached the finish line, I felt ready to be done. 

As much as I didn't want to finish the race, it felt complete at the end. I had such an incredible sense of peace when I finished. Looking back it makes me laugh a little, because there was also this sense of disbelief. Did we really just run a marathon? Did we really just cross the finish line with smiles on our faces? Can our bodies really feel this good after all they have just endured?

I have wondered a lot of things over the past year and this marathon has served as the closure that I think I needed.  I truthfully don't think Will felt pain or fatigue or struggle that he did not ask to endure. We didn't push him too hard for our own selfish desires and when it was time for him to leave us, I think he was at peace knowing his journey here was over. Now, my only wonder is if that disbelief that I felt at the finish line was how Will felt when he smiled at the face of God. 

Chicago Marathon

Signing "the wall".

Eek...the Chicago Marathon is over. While it's still somewhat fresh in my head, I want to remember every detail so I can take the good and the bad and I don't find myself only remembering the highlights and signing up for another one of these anytime soon. We headed into Chicago Saturday morning to hit up the Expo to get registered for the Marathon. There were tons of people and it kind of put in perspective just how big of a deal (and how organized) a marathon could be. We picked up our packets, checked out some of the booths and headed to check in to the hotel. We stayed at the Hyatt Centric. It was equidistant from the start line and Giordanos so it was a top pick for us. We carb loaded with some yummy pasta while we had food envy over the boys' pizza. We finished watching the Cubs game and then Mark and Mitch headed out for a late night hot dog and chocolate shake at Portillos. Jenisa and I headed to bed to rest up for Sunday.  It's a huge bummer to be in Chicago and not be able to enjoy all the food that comes with it!

26.2 from the windows

Sunday was a beautiful day for a run. It was a little warm, but it was welcome after a soggy Saturday that had us worried that we would spend our Sunday soaked. We got up at 5am, got prepped and ready, and started the long, dark walk to the start line. The city was feeling the marathon and everywhere we looked Chi-town was supporting the 40,000 runners that were preparing to enjoy their city. Security was pretty tight, they wanded us, checked our gear and bibs, and we headed in to find our corral. I was surprised that the nerves were far fewer than I anticipated. Usually, before runs I get butterflies and anticipate what awaits, but arriving 2 hours before the start made for a relaxing morning (essentially waiting in line at the port-o-pots) chatting with my sister and a few other runners.

We started in corral K and stayed toward the back. Our only goal was to not pass the 4:45 pacer as we knew with fresh legs we would want to get a jump start on the course. Our time arrived and people started moving toward the start line. We were in no hurry, so we jumped out of line, hit the port-o-pots one last time since we had been waiting in the corral so long (and there was no line!!) and then took our place at the start line. The excitement around us was palpable and the next thing we new we were inching our way over the mat and officially started the race. It felt like we were C.R.A.W.L.I.N.G. However, it was great to be able to take in all the sights and sounds of downtown Chicago...it was a beautiful start to the race. It had far fewer spectators at the start of the race than we anticipated, but it was rather perfect. Especially given the fact that when we came up on mile 2, two of the most beautiful faces emerged from the crowd...my sister and brother-in-law. We had no idea they were coming to Chicago and it was so exciting to see them. We stopped and hugged them and they filled our conversation to mile 4 when we saw them again. They were a fantastic cheering section! By mile 4 we also came up on Mark and Mitch. Unlike Jess and Tim, they were SUPER hard to spot so most of the time we were running backwards waving to them.

Winners arms for Will.

From there we headed north up to Addison...it was a little lonelier stretch up there but the miles went by quickly and before we knew it we turned and headed south again. We stopped off at mile 9 for the customary "port-o-pot-stop" and I though Jenisa might kill me as we waited in line and I watched her work to keep her legs from tightening up. Then it was back on the path and headed to mile 11 where we knew Mark and Mitch were waiting along with the rest of the Will Cure Team. We were making good time (too good of time really) and nearly missed Mark and Mitch again at mile 11. Once we passed them, we also missed the Will Cure Team and decided that given our estimated finish time, we should probably turn back and go meet William and the rest of the team in case we missed them later. We turned around (trying not to laugh at all the people looking at us like we were stupid) and went back and hugged everyone on the Cheer Squad and met William and his friend, Emi. Both were intrigued by their iPads as I'm sure they had already had their fill of runners, but we took pictures with them and chatted for a bit anyway. Then it was back on the route.

The halfway point was fantastic as it was lined with supporters and signs to get you all pumped up for the second half of the run. We were still feeling good, but the sun was getting hot and we were getting a little hungry. The miles slipped by though and we laughed at some of the signs, chatted a bit, continued saying Hail Mary's each mile for the people who have supported us along the way, and then one of the signs hit home for me and put me in a funk.

"Life is short, running makes it longer."

I'm not sure why this one hit me as hard as it did, but I got too inside my own head. I couldn't breathe. The heart rate monitor on my watch pinged and I tried really hard to not hyperventilate. We stopped to walk for a bit, but my joy was gone. The only thing I wanted to do was fill this journey with joy and I let it slip away. Luckily, we saw Jess and Tim cheering us on again and stopped to chat with them. Being a nurse, she took my pulse and gave me the "suck it up" that I needed to get my head back in the game.

Mile 17 was a long one, but we got back after it and the miles went much faster than we anticipated. We headed into Pilsen and the Mexican flags were flying with bands and cheers. They handed out pretzels and even had shots of beer and TEQUILA! As much as I wanted to live up the experience, there were too many miles left to go to be doing shots of tequila. We headed into Chinatown and joked at how great the smells were and how hungry we were getting.  From Chinatown we turned back north and started heading in. The last few miles went so fast. We hit mile 25 and entered into our last mile. The last one was for Will. I wanted this mile to last forever. We walked the entire mile. Well...we danced part of it - the last mile was FULL of spectator, music and celebration. We saw Jess and Tim again and gave our hugs and goodbyes so they could start the trip back home. We also got chastised by a man that jumped the barriers and was yelling at us to "Run - you only have a mile to go!" We both kind of wanted to punch him. Then we hit mile 26. The last 0.2 was for us...so we sprinted it to the finish line. We crossed over at 5:22:12 (and 28.8 miles according to my watch) with our arms in the air and smiles on our faces.

Once we hit the finish line people looked like they were in rough shape. Because of the amount of runners, you had to walk another 1/2 mile to get water, medals, chocolate milk, etc. They had the greatest little goody bags so we grabbed our stuff and headed to the gear check. We swapped out clothes (dry clothes felt SO good) and then headed to the "runner reunite" to meet up with Mark and Mitch.

We walked the LONG 2 miles back to the car and then headed to Ironside Grill to meet the WillCure team. They were so gracious and so thankful that we ran as a part of their team. Will was a trooper and was still going strong so we got to take a few pictures with him again. They were so kind and bought us some food and then we figured we better get on the road and head for home.

Wave of light

October 15th each year is the Wave of Light in honor of Infant loss remembrance day. We have spent September and October celebrating our favorite little guy and definitely didn't want to miss this opportunity to send him messages in Heaven. We headed to the park and were given blue and white balloons with lights on them to write our messages and send them up to Heaven. The girls LOVED this and it was so beautiful to watch them float up and disappear among the stars. We shivered as they read off the names of loved ones and messages for each of them unsure if it was the cold or the emotion that was settling in. We headed home afterward and continued the celebration by lighting our own little corner of the world up. 

Perfecting her balloon for Will. 

Ready to send off our messages.

Sending our messages to Heaven.

Disappearing among the stars.

Lighting up the night as they read off the names.

Miss you every day, buddy. You continue to light up our world each day. 

NFTS Gala

I recently met up with Robin Boudreau, founder of No Foot Too Small, and was honored that she asked if we would share about our journey with Will. Over a glass of wine, we shared our stories of our babies gone too soon and shared an understanding of what it is like to give birth knowing your baby may be born silent; while you can hear mothers delivering healthy, crying babies in the room next door. No Foot Too Small has partnered with UIHC to raise funds to support the Department of Obstetrics and Gynecology to build a labor and delivery suite designed specifically for families experiencing infant loss and to develop support groups for families affected by infant mortality. This is obviously a cause that is near and dear to my heart.

We shared our story, which NFTS put out, and later it was picked up by Cedar Rapids Moms Blog as well. Though Mark was unable to attend the NFTS Gala, I didn't want to miss out on an incredible opportunity to celebrate 70 angel babies and support an incredible cause. Thankfully my friend Carla agreed to go with me so that we could celebrate together and we both decided this may have been the first of many Galas to come for us. It was a beautiful night.

Sadly, we knew far too many babies on this list.

Herky even paid a visit to celebrate.

New to the "angel baby" club. A place no one wants to be and you don't want to welcome anyone else to, but you can't help but be thankful you're not alone. These ladies are incredible.

The last run.

This weekend is it.

If I take a DNS, I will have quit. If I have a DNF, I will have failed. If I cross the finish line, the journey is over.

If I'm honest, I think the last one scares me the most.

There are many different reasons to run a marathon. For some, it is one more thing to cross off the bucket-list and, if you know me, I do love checking things off of a list. For others, it is a way to stay healthy, and I definitely needed to jump-start a healthy lifestyle after spending 10 months in a rather sedentary position. Still, others run for the sanity, and it's no secret that I wanted to boost my endorphins the most natural way possible to help point me down a grateful and joy-filled path. However, these reasons were all secondary to why I needed to run this race.

I needed it for reassurance. I needed to prove to myself that there is nothing more that I could have done to help Will. That I did my best. That I went the 'distance.' I asked God to help me understand what Will went through. To reassure me that he didn't suffer unnecessarily and that if he did suffer, it was His choice, not mine. I asked God to help me feel what Will felt. I knew that signing up for this marathon would bring pain. It would bring exhaustion. It would bring fear. All the things that I think Will may have endured for us. I needed the reassurance to know that it was worth it for him.

Sunday looks to already be setting itself up for this challenge. I have been running in 50-degree early morning temps, as last year the start of the race it was 40 degrees. This year the start will be almost 30 degrees warmer - not ideal for someone whose body isn't acclimated. Regulating body temperatures was a challenge for Will, and I wonder if I will get a glimpse of that challenge this weekend.

After purchasing my "marathon" shoes, I did a few short runs to break them in and developed an annoying knee pain. Thinking it was just new shoes I decided to knock out my 20 mile run in them. The knee pain got worse and has yet to subside. With another change of shoes and little time to break them in, I know Sunday will welcome its share of pain. Though we did our best to keep Will comfortable, I can never quite know just how much pain he felt. No doubt, pain will be a friend of mine this weekend.

I woke up this morning with a tight chest and a deep cough that has me wondering what kind of cold is settling into my body. Of course, I've stayed healthy for the past year and now race weekend I am getting a cold. With breathing one of Will's key issues I wonder if God will show me just how hard it was for Will to find his breath.

To add to it, the emails have started coming in testing the "alert" system for emergencies on race day. The first few emails were about the temperatures and elevating the course from 'green' to 'yellow' due to temps. However, my sister knew better, as yesterday we got an email discussing security in light of the recent Las Vegas shootings. I will run and try not be afraid as I know that is how Will took on life.

Everything seems to be setting itself up to help me understand the pain, the struggle, the fear that Will may have endured for us. So when people ask what time I am hoping to finish in and I tell them I just need to cross the finish line in 6:30:00, they think I'm joking. I know prolonging the run may create more pain, more struggle, more suffering. However, much like Will, I also want to prolong the journey. This marathon will only happen once. I intend to make the most out of it that I can. Each half mile equates to about one day of Will's life. Some days were fantastic. Others were really hard. I hope to embrace each mile as it comes and find joy in every step of the journey. Finishing is the reassurance that I need to put my heart at rest and know that I have gone the distance. I did not quit. I have not failed.

I'm not running for a time because I am not running it for me. I am running to better understand Him. Crossing the finish line will be another milestone. And anyone who celebrates the anniversaries, birthdays, special days of their loved one without them by their side, understands that the "milestone" days are some of the hardest. Though blissfully ignorant to what the day will bring, I pray that with the pain there will be much joy.

New Mellary Abbey

Sunday we finished off Will's birthday celebration week with a trip to New Melleray Abbey. This beautifully peaceful oasis holds our hearts as Will's casket was handcrafted by the Monks that reside here. We celebrated mass at the Abbey and then walked around the grounds to enjoy the peace that they have to offer. 

Mass was beautiful and the natural light that poured in over the incense that hung in the air gave a mystical appearance that brought a whole new feel to the mass. 

Such an incredibly beautiful day for a visit. There are about 30 monks that live at the Abbey and they spend a large part of their day in prayer, work and contemplation. Some work at Trappist caskets, others tending to the garden and groves. They begin their day at 3:30AM with Vigils and have a strict routine that carries them through to the end of their day at 7:30 when they end with Compline (night prayer).

Another milestone

I love you not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you. I love you not only for what you have made of yourself, but for what you are making of me. I love you for the part of me that you bring out. Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

Thank you so much for the outpouring of love for Will's birthday. From the coffee with his name on it, to the flowers and donations in his name, to the texts, calls and cards, it was so great to hear people speak his name and know he was remembered. It reminded me how much he is still loved and how many people are also missing him.

Will's first birthday was a milestone that I wanted so badly to embrace, but had to work so hard to see through. So many baby boys were born within a week or two of his birthday. Each month on social media I would watch these sweet mamas post beautiful monthly milestones of their precious sons and it physically made me hurt. Not because they proudly show off these gorgeous children (they should and I am so glad they do), but because it is a reminder of how much I wish Will was mine. Mine to touch. Mine to hold. Mine to care for. It's so dumb. I have 3 beautiful girls at home that I can hug and love on any time I want.  But there is a space in my heart created solely for him and that void cannot be filled by them. That part of my heart aches so badly for him.

The girls have been so generous in letting me hug them and hold them when my arms are feeling empty. I figure that unless you know better, you can't do better (occupational hazard being a teacher, I guess), so I have been trying my hardest to learn about pain and grief management to help fill this void in me. The most comforting I have found is as follows:

"Much like having an amputation, nerves in parts of your brain "rewire" themselves when they lose signals like a missing arm or missing leg. As a result, they send pain signals, a typical response when your body senses something is wrong. These "phantom pains" can last for months -even years- after a limb has been severed." 

I wonder if the same can be possible with a mother and her child once the physical bond has been severed. My arms physically ache sometimes to hold something. A baby crying makes my lungs burn. Singing at church still brings tears to my eyes. These involuntary responses make me feel so out of control and I hate that as much as I want to touch or hold a baby the physical pain each time I see one makes me not trust if my arms could actually hold them safely.

Babies A, L, Q, W, L and A all celebrated their first birthdays this month. I have prayed so much for these sweet babies and seeing them with frosting on their cheeks from their joyous smash cake celebrations makes me smile. Except for when it makes me cry. I likened it to jealousy for a really long time, but I've given that up. I just miss my boy. We have survived one more milestone. We will continue to focus on finding joy as the next milestone grows closer and pray that time will continue to heal us.

Happy birthday!

Will's birthday is here and much like his last birthday, we wanted to celebrate big! We started with Mass at St. Matts. It was great to listen to Emma read at mass and be able to celebrate together as a family (minus Grace as she had mass at her school). From there we were showered with texts, cards, hugs and remembrances for our sweet boy. It was incredible to think that people remembered his birthday and were willing to reach out and celebrate with us. 

It was comforting to be able to pay a visit to the Angel of Hope at Xavier since it's right outside my building and pray for all those parents missing their babies. I know Will is in some extraordinary company in Heaven. 

And of course, everyone needs a birthday present to celebrate. This beauty will hopefully grow quick and strong just like our boy. It flowers white blossoms in the spring and should turn a beautiful red/purple in the fall so we are looking forward to enjoying its shade and comfort for years to come. 

No birthday is complete without cake! Though I usually make a cake for the girls birthdays we celebrated Will's first week birthday with a cake that some friends dropped by for us, so we thought it was only right that we celebrate his first year birthday with the same cake. Grace has perfected her family selfie skills!

We ended the day lighting off Chinese wishing lanterns. I hope the girls didn't send up too grandiose of wishes as after its magical release into the sky, it flew over our house, decided it was afraid of heights and landed on the roof of our neighbors a few houses down. No worries, Mark rescued it off the roof and put out the fire. It's not a real birthday until you have a good story to tell, right!? :) Nothing like introducing yourself to your new neighbors by asking to climb on their roof! Happy birthday, little cub! 

Garden

This. This is our peaceful spot. We have a lot of work to do, but we are so thankful to our friends who gave us these beautiful art poles and told us how therapeutic gardening can be. Our backyard has become a beautiful oasis filled with butterflies, cardinals, and all signs that our baby boy is near us. 

The race is on...

76 days and I will be running the Chicago Marathon with the Will Cure team. I can't decide if that number evokes elation or the desire to vomit. I have just shy of 11 weeks to get my body physically and mentally prepared to cover the 26.2 miles of long hard pavement that will hopefully welcome my every footstep and those of my fellow companions on the run.

Preparation has been everything and nothing that I had imagined it to be.

Hard. Therapeutic. All-consuming. Boring. Encouraging. Hot. Motivating. Exhausting. Painful. Soothing. Entertaining. Scary. Joyful. Discouraging. Stimulating. Confusing. Dramatic. Redundant...

On the good days, I am reminded that I am healthy and able to run while so many others are not. I think of the Will Cure Team, MTM, and William and the challenges that he and his family face daily while my biggest complaints are self-inflicted fatigue, thirst, and the occasional side ache. I question things like how life can be minimized to dollar signs and how the blood, sweat and tears that go into training for a marathon may eventually equate to life-saving measures. I think of babies like Charlie Gard and all of the SOFT and NORD families that were so helpful to us as we journeyed with Will and increased our knowledge and understanding whilst reaffirming our perspectives on so many issues.

I think of the person that I was going into that journey and the person who is emerging on the other side. Two completely different people.

I think of my own Will and the determination and perseverance that he had to provide us with 67 of the most precious days we may ever experience in this life.

Physically, training is going okay. I have been very slow in pushing forward and have focused a lot of time and energy into stretching and preventing injury. Just when I think I should push harder I remind myself that I would rather walk across the finish line than receive a DNF. Many of my runs have not been enjoyable lately because I have been running too fast, so I am reminding myself to slow down and listen. The pounding on the pavement, the pacer on my watch, the rhythmic breathing cycles, the encouragement from other runners... I've been trying to slow down and take it all in.

Mentally, training is a struggle. Though by the time I lace up for race day I will have been through months of physical training to cross the finish line, I am questioning if 76 days will be enough for my mental preparedness. My head is not where it has been for previous races. I am just entering in to double digit runs and my mental capacity to sustain them is wavering. When you get bored, your mind wanders. And a wandering mind is a dangerous thing when you have unpleasantries filed away that you only like to pull out in controlled environments.

I have been working hard to keep a focused mind, but as the miles unravel and the boredom sets in I find myself struggling more with difficult thoughts that often cause me to hyperventilate. I have convinced myself the best thing to do is run through them as it will pass, but if you've ever had a panic attack, you know the squeeze it puts on your chest and it's often difficult to stand, let alone keep moving forward. 76 days. 76 days to train the mind in positivity, joy and strength. 76 days to train the body to breathe, relax and persevere.

I am so extremely thankful to those who have helped me in running. Those who run with me, those who ask about it, those who don't question why I'm doing it. I am thankful for the 5am k-train that has forced me to adhere to my running schedule this summer and to my sister who knows that running this will provide a 'small patch for a huge hole' as she matches step for step the miles and commitment that running this marathon entails.

I am thankful for your prayers. Your prayers for Will [which I have no doubt are what helped sustain him as long as possible], your prayers for our family [which I have no doubt are sustaining us now], and prayers for a successful, injury-free marathon ahead. If you would like to support my sister and me as we run for charity we would appreciate it so much if you would click HERE and consider a donation to support MTM research and the Will Cure Team.

I admire you, runner friends. This marathon business is not for the faint of heart. Thanks for all of your support!!

Spreading loVe

Will has a tiny visitor that left a most special gift at his grave over memorial day, and additionally one on our front step. Our sweet friend Veronica and her family have a special bond with Will, and we are forever grateful for their support and love. V and her family have a most special place in our hearts and in our prayers and there are not enough words of gratitude to thank them for these gestures that get us through some of the harder days. This little night light is such a comfort, but also a great representation of the light that they spread to so many. It glows bright, no doubt with love.

Memorial day

We started off Memorial day with Norah’s birthday celebration, followed by a quick memorial day pool party.

We then headed to Washington on Sunday to visit our favorite boy and pay our respects to all those who have served in the military, especially my grandpa...



The cemetery was beautiful with all of the flags for memorial day and packed with visitors. I know Will gets lots of visits from my family, but I love that every time we go there are always people paying visits to their loved ones.


The flags were huge and beautiful.


My grandma and grandpa and their son (William "Nicky") who died when he was 13.


One of my favorite spots in the cemetery, the Garden of the Good Shepard, donated and cared for by my dad and his family. This is my view for eternity, as our plot is right next to this...not a bad view, huh?! :)


And, of course, we were excited that Will's headstone is ready to be placed. We buried him in Mark's plot so the two of them will be together (not any time soon) :) so we made the decision to complete a headstone for the three of us. Engraving the kids names on the bottom of it was an added difficulty as it made the decision that we are forever done having kids...it's literally carved in stone. It closed yet another chapter in life and was a rough reminder that we've closed more things than we've opened lately. However, we are right in the middle of lots of family (you can see my aunt and uncles headstone right behind) and my parents own the plots on both sides of us, so it's comforting to know that when the time comes, we have a great spot for lots of visitors...come see us! :)


We engraved the backside too, so you can't miss us!

From there we spent the afternoon at my parents enjoying the weather and playing. They had planted a tree in remembrance of Will and my dad engraved a beautiful plaque with his name on it out of a piece of the altar from our family church before it was remodeled. It was a beautiful tribute to him and made being at home for memorial day that much more special. The girls loved playing with their cousins on the trampoline, testing out the rope swing and going for rides on the 4-wheeler. Of course, the fun had to end as we had to head back home to start preparing for the move and start getting things packed up.

However, all work and no play is no fun, so after a busy day of cleaning and packing, we ended our Memorial Day with a BBQ at the Lammers house. Good food, good friends, and lots of play time to finish out a great weekend. Only one more week of school and the SUMMER is here!

Memorial Scholarship

This has been a big week. Coupled with the fact that it's May, [so with it comes all of the "end of school year" tasks, grading, concerts, celebrations, etc.], we also limped our way through Mothers Day on Sunday, a rough 6 month milestone on Wednesday, a memorial scholarship on Thursday, and the placement of Will's headstone on Friday. It's safe to say our emotional roller coaster could use a pit stop so we can all disembark for a bit before we have to reload again. Yet much like most roller coasters, through the worry and nausea, we put our hands up and let the loops and turns hit us one at a time. At the end we found the accomplishment of conquering another fear, held on tight for the unexpected drops, and found joy in the anticipated good that can come of new experiences.

My favorite this week was knowing that an extremely deserving student could be honored on Will's behalf. There were a few things that were very near and dear to us that we wanted to make sure Will's goodness touched. We lit the Angel of Hope statue on the Xavier campus, we donated to the girls school library, donated a healthy chunk to our Parish and created an endowed scholarship in Will's name at my school. As important as it was for us to ensure that incoming students could afford to come to Xavier, we wanted to make sure that we honored an outgoing student in Will's name as well. As most people do when they find out they are having a baby, they dream big for their child. Dreams of what their personality will be like, what their passions will be and the possible impact they may have on others. We dreamed big for Will and he fulfilled most every dream in his short time, but we will always be left dreaming what he would have been like if given the opportunity to walk the halls of Xavier. We selected a student who portrayed many qualities that we dreamed of for Will and presented that student with a scholarship to continue his studies in college. 

As my principal read:

"This scholarship award is in honor of William Everette Richmond, son of Mark and Jaclyn Richmond. Will passed away earlier this school year, but not before touching the hearts of many. He was a beacon of light for proving that every life matters and that you can learn something from everyone you meet, regardless of age, intellect or ability. He will always be considered a Xavier Saint, as he carried out the single most important thing we do at Xavier…he celebrated Mass with us.

This award is for a male student who portrays a few of the qualities that Will’s family dreamed he would portray if he were able to walk the halls of Xavier. He tries his best in each of his endeavors, he walks strong in his faith while encouraging others to do the same, and he leaves everyone he encounters just a little more joyful than when they first met. This student is sincere, he is genuine, and he leads us all to walk deeper in our faith.

We would like to present the William E. Richmond memorial scholarship to: Sam Martin."

If you haven't had the opportunity to meet this student, I suggest you seek him out. He's absolutely incredible.

Mothers Day

Happy Mothers Day to all my favorite mama's. First and foremost, my own. She has paved the way for raising strong, independent, hard-working children. At the end of the day, we all somehow made it to adulthood relatively well-adjusted, fairly moral and ethical, and with a firm understanding that family comes first. I am only now starting to realize the gift that she gave us in helping us understand the balance of standing on our own two feet, while never letting anyone else have to stand on theirs alone. Although I'm a quite capable individual; my siblings and parents have always come to my aid when needed. And though they are capable, I'd like to think I have [and will] always come to their aid. I'm not sure how you instill this in your children, but I hope to instill it in mine. It seems like an incredible gift to be able to give. The knowledge that you can do it alone, but the wisdom that you shouldn't do it alone. That's what I'm carrying with me today. 
I'm writing this post a bit late for Mothers Day. The day itself was hard. I better understand this year that after losing a child, "Happy Mothers Day" isn't the right sentiment. I've always wondered this as I watched friends who had miscarried or struggled with infertility, but this year I figured it out. I don't want to wish anyone a Happy Mothers Day, I want to wish them an Honored Mothers Day. It is not a happy day for everyone, but if chosen to be a mother, it is an honor. I hope that mothers feel that honor today. It is something that I take much more seriously this year than I have in the past. I felt honored when I woke up and spent an hour of quiet time one-on-one making friendship bracelets with Emma. I felt honored when Norah squeezed her soft, chubby arms around my neck when she woke up, knowing that I had a role in her creation and she brightens the day of many. I felt honored that Grace found today special enough to remember to wish me a happy day without any prompting. 

The girls each bought me a flower after church today. Then, I got a flower delivered to my door from Hospice in honor of Will. It was a really sweet gesture.

Per the usual, there was yelling, there was fighting, there was every day turmoil...but it made the day seem so much better, because although it was messy, it was real. We didn't "celebrate" today. We went to church, had our normal Sunday morning brunch, and had an awesome afternoon playing and just being. I didn't want to hear Happy Mothers Day nor did I want to mistakenly wish it to someone else. I fought my every urge to get in the car and drive down to see Will because I am his mother every day and I didn't want this one to seem any different. I cried. I missed him. I ached for him. However, I also smiled, gave thanks, and had fun with the girls. I felt loved by my family. They made me beautiful homemade gifts, cards that left me in tears and pampered me as usual. It was a pretty normal day and for that I was so grateful. 
So on Mothers day and every other day that is a painful reminder of how beautifully heartbreaking love can be, my thoughts will continue to hold these sentiments close:
I believe in the sun, even though it doesn't shine, I believe in love, even when it isn't shown, I believe in God, even when He doesn't speak. I have eyes that see the unseen. 
He gives strength to those who are tired and more power to those who are weak. Isaiah 40:29