Jesus called the children to Himself and said, 
"Let the little children come to me 
and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God 
belongs to such as these."   
Luke 18:16

Jace was born on a beautiful spring day. He came into this world about three weeks early, and we are so thankful to have those extra three weeks with him. He was perfect and healthy. Our family became complete for the third time. Jace was born to not only a mom and dad who loved him more than they thought was possible, but also to a sister and brother who adored him. In the hospital, I found myself so incredibly tired to the point that I was afraid I might drop him while I was trying to nurse him. During our stay in the hospital, I would find myself just wanting him to wake up, even in the middle of the night, just so that I could be with him. We spent so much time together those first days, with him lying on my chest. I remember how the warmth of his tiny little body was all I needed. I remember that being one of the most precious memories in the hospital with all three of my children. 

When we left the hospital, of course we were nervous that we were ill equipped to care for such a little bundle. Even though we had brought a baby home two times previous to Jace, we were so nervous. What would the nights bring? Would he be content? Fussy? From the start, Jace was nothing but perfect. He was the most content baby I had ever been around. If he cried, there was a reason...and when attended to, he was fine. The first couple of weeks Jace woke up three times a night or so. It was amazing, though, I never minded getting up to nurse him. He would nurse, and then by the end of the hour, he was back in bed asleep. I really enjoyed those times that we had, just the two of us.




Jace was the perfect baby. So, when he was almost a month old and had a fussy day and felt a little warm, I was worried that he could be ill. I took him into the doctor and it was decided that he should be admitted to the hospital to be sure that he didn't have RSV. I had to go from the doctor's office to the hospital. When I got to the parking lot, I couldn't go in. I sat there for I don't know how long, crying, because I knew that he would be poked and prodded with IV's and blood work and tests. I called my friend Mandi and told her I just wanted to take him home. He would be safe there and he would not be in the pain he was about to endure. Mandi, being my rational self, reassured me that he would be fine and that it was best to have him in the hands of the doctors and nurses. I would have done anything to keep him from pain. I have thought so many times since my darkest day in September, that I would have thrown myself in front of a bus to save that sweet baby. I just never had the chance.

Our stay in the hospital was about four days, and pretty routine. He ended up having a virus resembling RSV, but was discharged on his one month birthday in good health. I have to say, other than that week in May, Jace was never sick. I never did take him to the doctor again, except for his well-baby checks.



The next months were the best times of my life. I know now that I will never again have moments in my life so perfect. Jace was amazing. He was so happy all of the time. Jeff and I would sit with him and say out loud, "He is so perfect. There has never been a happier, more content baby." I remember telling Jeff so many times in those months, "If we never build that new house, we never have more money, we never get those promotions...I could not be happier than I am right now." I am so thankful that we talked about those thoughts to each other. We do not have to regret wishing we would have appreciated what we had. I have to say we knew with our whole heart how lucky we were. We had the perfect life.





As the summer went on, we spent more time interacting with Jace, as he smiled and giggled all of the time. He was really starting to giggle loudly, which made my heart just smile. Jace continued to be the "best baby ever!" 


The summers are always such a wonderful time for us as I get to spend so much time with the kids as I am a teacher. When Jace was born in April, I did not go back to work until the school year started in the middle of August. So Jace was four months old when I went back to school. In July, however, I went through my annual heart-ache as I struggle with being torn between a teacher and a mom. I ask myself at the end of every summer "How can I leave my children to teach other kids?" This year was no exception, and the feelings were intensified because I wanted to be with Jace - he really had not had anyone else care for him except Jeff or myself. I began to pray that the days would be 50 hours long instead of 24, and that time would move as slowly as possible. That only makes time fly, I think, because it did last summer.






Looking back now, I have to believe that God was preparing me (as if you could be prepared to live without your child) for what would happen in September. Some of my fondest memories are and will always be the times that I spend with Jace in his room. There were so many times (honestly, too many to count) that I would sit and watch him in awe. I would call him my little angel and I remember at times saying aloud "I know this is a glimpse of Heaven." Sometimes I just couldn't get enough. I told Jeff countless times that we have to, as I would say, "savor every moment" with Jace because he is only little for such a short time. Little did I know that what I meant is "Savor every moment. He is only ours for such a short time."



I found out I was pregnant, just two weeks after our friends Mandi and Tom found out that they were expecting their fourth child. We were so excited because we knew we would have each other to help get through the sickness and aches and pains of the next nine months. Jeff and I found out that we were having a boy. Tom and Mandi didn't find out what they were having although Mandi was pretty sure she was having a boy. On Tuesday, April 11, Mandi had a scheduled induction. It wasn't until into the evening that we found out that they had a beautiful boy, Easton. I had Jace the following day, on April 12th. So it was written in the cards that Jace and Easton were to grow up together and be the best of friends.

Throughout the summer Mandi and I would share what Jace and Easton were doing and the milestones they were reaching. Every time we would get together we would tell the boys that they were "best buddies." We shared so many stories of our hopes and dreams for our two beautiful boys. Along with the hopes and dreams came fears for the two of them. I suppose it was just normal "mothers being worried" talk. One of the things that we talked about on several occasions was the scare of SIDS. We happened to read in our parenting magazine that the highest risk for SIDS is between ages two to four months. We talked about the boys napping and sleeping and how we would check on them to make sure they were breathing. I remember the day that I told Mandi that we were out of the woods. We didn't need to worry about SIDS anymore because the boys had turned four months. We had one less thing to worry about. I have thought of that day and that conversation a million times in the past four and a half months. I still don't know how this could have happened since we were so aware...





I went back to school on August 14th, two days after Jace turned 4 months old. It was so difficult and something I had struggled with for the previous month, knowing I would be leaving this beautiful child in the care of someone else all day. With that being said, we feel so lucky and blessed to be able to take our kids to the most loving child care provider in the world. JoAnn (JoJo) has been caring for our kids since Megan was a baby. Our kids simply adore JoJo and love being with her. She does more than just provide care for our children, she honestly loves them, and she is like family to us. 



I remember telling some of my friends that it was so hard taking Jace to our babysitter's house (JoJo). My friend Ginger (who is so much like myself that it is scary), assured me that I was a good mom and that he would be fine. We talked about the guilt that we go through as mothers with the decision to work or to be with our children, and even if there is no decision to make, the guilt is just the same. As I was leaving school for lunch that first day, I called JoJo to see how Jace was doing (I think that was the third time I had called her that day already), and she said he was crying - so I said I would be right over to spend some time with him. So I spent lunch that first day rocking and cuddling with Jace. It was the best lunch date I've ever had. I always wondered what that sweet baby must think..."Where is my mommy and why has she left me?" The thought of that is almost too much to bear.



My second day back at work, Jace had his 4 month check up. Everyhing went well; he was perfect. I had asked the doctor if it was ok to wait to start feeding Jace baby food until he was a little older, say 6 months, because he was so perfect and he was sleeping like an angel. The doctor said that would be just fine since I was nursing him. During this visit, Jace had to have immunization shots. I have always hated when my kids have to go in for shots and have to keep telling myself that it is for their own good and to keep them healthy. As we walked out of the office that day with Jace sobbing from his shots, Mandi was walking in with Easton. I'll never forget that day. That was the last day he ever went to the doctor.




On September 6th, I had my second cross country meet in Fremont. I was not feeling well, so at the insistence of one of my assistant coaches, I decided I would go home after school on Thursday and they would handle practice. So after school I went to JoJo's to pick up the kids. When I got there, she said that Jace had rolled over during his nap and that when she went to check on him he was on his tummy. Although she didn't come out and ask, I knew she was really wanting to know what to do. Should she leave him on his tummy? JoAnn had been very cautious with the babies that she cared for, and was nervous about SIDS. I told her that he was infatuated with rolling over and that he was very strong and could hold himself up. He was 5 days short of being 5 months old. 




I have so many fond memories of Thursday night. Since I didn't coach that afternoon, I had extra time to spend with the kids that I didn't normally have. I remember Jace being under his little play gym, hitting the toys so that the music would play. Then he started rolling over from his back to his tummy. After he was on his tummy for a little while he would get frustrated and I would go and turn him over. Within seconds, though, he would be back on his tummy. He loved that he had could do it, and it was as though he just couldn't get enough. After supper it was bath time - our favorite time. I will hold the memory of that last bath forever in my heart. It was the first time that I had taken his baby bathtub out of the tub and layed a towel down for him to lay on so that he could splash in the water. The sounds of his giggles with forever be the sweetest sound. After his bath, Jace was so ready to be nursed and to go to sleep. I put him to bed at his normal time. A couple of hours later, I went to check on Jace before going to bed myself. I noticed he was a little wet, so I got him up and changed him. I remember being glad that he was wet so I had the excuse to rock and cuddle him. So we rocked for a while and then I put him back to bed. 



The next morning Jace woke up around 6:00 am, at which time I fed him and laid him back down to bed. I remember that he was so hungry that morning. He had never been that hungry in the morning before. At 6:45 I heard Jace talking, so we went in to get him. Carson always liked to go in and climb up and look over the side of the crib at Jace. I loved it because Jace was always so happy to see Carson, that he would kick and flap his arms. After I changed him, Megan wanted to carry him into the living room. So she carried him through the hallway, while I trailed close behind. As Megan carried him he was looking at me with one of his "biggest" smiles. I will never forget how fluffy his hair was that morning. I took Jace to JoJo's that morning, and I can remember everything about that drive that day. It was a beautiful morning that felt more like spring than it did fall. When I took Jace into JoJo's house, I took him out of his seat and held him for a minute before I handed him over to JoJo. That was the last time I would ever hold my Sweet Baby Jace in my arms. I stood at the bottom of the steps before leaving JoAnn's and I looked through the banister for an extra long time that morning, just talking to Jace saying "Mommy loves you, Mommy loves you." If I had known that was the last time I would ever see that sweet face smile, I never would have left.


It finally happened, the Battle of the Bands caused a birth!!! I know it was the screamer!

Angie and Jeff Means gave birth on Wednesday night, April 12th to a baby boy, Jace Anthony.

He is 18" long and weighed 6 lbs 1 oz

Congratulations to the Means!!! 



Jace was born at 7:04 pm. I remember how emotional Jeff was when he saw Jace for the first time - even before I was able to see him. I wanted to hold him so badly. He was so perfect.





After I got out of recovery, Jeff brought Megan up to see us. Carson was already in bed, so he had to wait until the next day to meet Jace. Megan was so proud of her new little brother and I was so proud of her for being such a great big sister.





Carson could not get enough of his sweet little Jace. I remember him wanting to hold him and touch him. His smile was so big that it almost could not fit on his little face. In the past seven months I have asked many questions, the most frequent being "How can I live a life without my son?" I have also looked at Megan and Carson and been so sad for them as their young lives should never know this much sorrow and confusion. A seven and four year old should never have to fall in love with their perfect little brother and then come home one day and never be able to see him again. I know they have seen sadness beyond their years, but I will never regret that they had a chance to be blessed by that precious soul and had the opportunity to love him without hesitation.











 













                           



































On my way to school that day I felt great.  It was a beautiful day and I had it all, not knowing I was soon to lose it all.  At 11:15 I was teaching an algebra II class when I got a message from the office that I had a phone call that I needed to take. I have received these calls before, taken the call worried that something was wrong with one of the kids, for it only to be a parent or someone from the media wanting information about the cross country team.  When I answered the call it was a dispatcher from the police department asking if I was Jace's mom.  When I said that I was, she informed me that Jace had been transported to Faith Regional Health Services and that I needed to go there.  I could feel my heart beating in my chest as I ran back to my classroom and grabbed my things and left for the hospital.  The police department had not yet gotten ahold of Jeff so I called him on my way out of the school.  Our conversation was so short.  There were no questions asked.  I told him that Jace was in the hospital, that I didn't know a thing, but that we were supposed to go there.  I will never forget the drive from the school to the hospital for as long as I live.  I kept praying the Lord's Prayer and the Hail Mary as fast as I could.  I tried to tell myself that an accident must have happened at JoAnn's.  Maybe one of the kids fell on Jace while he was playing on the floor and he had a broken arm or leg.  Those things happen.  We could live with that.  



In January of 2005, a good friend of mine who has been my running partner and assistant coach with me for the past seven years lost his precious baby boy to SIDS.  When Vinh went through the loss of his son, I knew I had never experienced anything so heart-breaking as I did when I witnessed them go through their hell.  I knew that if I were ever to face such pain, I would never survive.  So on the way to the hospital that Friday afternoon, I kept telling myself that it could not be SIDS...Vinh and I were too close.  What were the odds that it could happen to both of us just 19 months apart.  Unheard of- therefore it was not possible.  Besides, Mandi and I had talked about SIDS many times before and the boys were past the critical age.  So I must be exempt.  And if it wasn't SIDS then it must be something minor.  It would all be ok.
 


When I walked into the emergency room, I was met by two women whom I immediately knew were there for me.  It was then that I knew in my heart that my life would never be the same.  I remember saying something to the women, trying to dismiss the fact that they were waiting for me and I think I kept saying "He's ok, right?  He's ok!"  They just told me that I was to go with them and that they would try to find something out from the doctor.  So they took me into this little room where I waited.  It seems like I waited for a long time before I heard Jeff come in.  He said he was moments behind me and that he could see me walking into the ER when he parked his car.  I also remember hearing Jeff sob before he got into the room where I was waiting and I was upset because I thought "You don't even know that anything is really wrong...why are you sobbing?"  He has since told me that that did not happen at all.  I believe I went into some kind of shock when I saw those women waiting for me at the door, because I don't remember things, and things evidently didn't happen like I thought they did and as I remember them.  



When Dr. Gebhardt came into the room we were in, I immediately asked him (at least I think this is how things unfolded) if Jace was ok.  He looked at me and said very seriously "No, he is not ok."  How could this be happening?  He is fine...he was perfect this morning.  I know there was only a second between Dr. Gebhardt telling us that things were not ok, and him telling us that Jace had no pulse, but I feel like I had an hour to deny the fact that this could be happening.  Dr. Gebhardt said that they were working on him and that they were helping him to breathe.  



I don't know how long Dr. Gebhardt was gone from that room where Jeff and I remained after receiving the most devistating news of our lives.  I remember Jeff getting ahold of his dad and trying to get ahold of his mom, while I called my parents.  "This can't be happening.  Don't you remember?  My life is perfect!  Just this morning I thanked God for blessing us with everything we could ever hope for.  I can't live with news like this - this can't be my life."  These are the thoughts I remember having as we waited for news of whether our son would live or die.



When Dr. Gebhardt came back in the room that day, I think we knew that our prayers had not been answered, at least not with the outcome that we had so desperately prayed.  He said that it would be cruel to continue, and that they had to let him go.  The ER doctor was in the room with him and for some reason I could not look at him or shake his hand.  I think Jeff did and maybe even hugged him.  I just remember telling Dr. Gebhardt that I didn't believe this could have happened and he told me that I wouldn't for a long time.  He is right, because it has been almost 5 months and I still don't believe it.  When we asked what happened we were told that at first they thought maybe he had spit-up and aspirated some of it into his lungs, but that did not appear to be the case.  They didn't know details.  I asked if we could see Jace and we were told that we could be with him for as long as we needed to.  Dr. Gebhardt warned us that there were tubes in him that had to be left there because an autopsy would have to be performed.  Before we went into the room where our baby lay, Jeff called Mandi and told her the news.  I remember hearing him tell her that we "lost Jace" and I thought "she is not going to know what you mean by that".  He later told me that he could not say the words.  No father should ever have to say those words.


On our September 8th, as the day has come to be known in our house, we held our Sweet Baby Jace in our arms for hours.  How could we let him go?  Investigators and the Assistant County Attorney (who coincidentally takes his children to JoAnn for child care) came in to ask us questions.  As they sat there and asked me questions while I cradled that sweet baby in my arms I thought two thoughts almost simultaneously.  "How can you even ask me questions as though we may have something to do with our child's death?" and "I am so glad that you are doing your job well."  I know it was very difficult for those men to be in that room and would have done what they could have to change things.  Mandi was there with us by that time.  I will never forget when she came in that room and she just kept asking me "What happened?"  One detail that sticks out in my mind is that her hair was wet.  She later told me that she had just gotten out of the shower when she got Jeff's call.  She was to the hospital five minutes later.  When the investigators needed to examine Jace and asked if we would leave the room, I couldn't bear the thought of Jace being in there alone with those strangers.  I asked Mandi if she would stay in the room with him and they said she could stay.   I believe God made sure that Mandi was with me that day.  She shouldered so much of my pain, and for that I will be eternally thankful. 



Today is February 4th, the day that marks the time that I have lived without Jace in my arms as long as I lived with him in my arms.  The most devastating truth of this is that tomorrow I will have lived without him longer than I lived with him.  I don't know how I am going to live with that. 
How do you bury your child and go on? 

As the afternoon went on, that Friday that feels to me like Good Friday, we held Jace and each other and tried to soak up the rest of our lives worth of moments with that sweet boy.  We were told by the investigators and people from the hospital that we would need to decide on a funeral home.  "Decide on a funeral home for your son."  How do you wake up one morning having everything, and have people tell you hours later that you need to decide on a funeral home for your son.  We chose to go with the same one that Vinh and Hong had used when their baby died.  

When our parents arrived, they came into the room where Jace, and Jeff and I were.  I will never forget my Dad asking me if he could hold Jace, and when I handed him to him, he just cried and held him close to himself.  My mom, being the "fixer" and the "bandaid" of all of our hurts, cried with us and for us, and for herself as she saw her precious grandchild in our arms.  I remember feeling a sense of relief when Mom and Dad walked in those doors that day.  As if now that they were here, they could make it all better as they had done with so many things all of my life.  My mom has told me many times since September 8th, that she would trade places with Jace, just so we could have him back in our arms.  My parents lost a child also, their first born.  

Jeff's dad was there with us that day and was amazing in his strength and support for us, as he always is.  I saw on his face and the face of my parents something that I had never seen before.  A helplessness.  They all would have done everything in their power to protect us from this pain, yet there was nothing they could do to save our sweet baby. 








Tomorrow is Valentine's Day and my heart aches when it should be rejoicing in the joy of the love of my three children and a wonderful husband.  Although my heart is broken, it is filled with a love that only a mother or father could know for his or her children.  I can't say that I have felt blessed all of these days since Jace died, but I do know that I have felt God's presence when I have needed him the most.  And I have literally cried aloud for him to be with me to help me get through one more moment, and he has cradled me.  Those who say that God does not give us more than we can handle, never had much put before them to handle.  I can't handle this.  But with God's help, I am walking through the storm, and at least surviving.  So tonight, yet another time, I am asking God to hold me in his arms to get me through another day without my Sweet Baby Jace.

As the afternoon of September 8th went on, we knew the moment was coming when he had to give our baby up.  We had decided on a funeral home and they were just waiting for us to say that we were ready for them to take him.  I felt as though they were the enemy; some evil vultures ready to pounce down and grab our son from us.   And we knew that once we gave our baby to them there would be no going back.  At least if we held him in our arms for a little longer we could pretend.  If I held him close enough to my chest I could pretend that he was not cold and that there were not tubes coming out of his precious little body.  I could pretend that I was at home in his cozy little room, rocking him and smelling the sweet scent of his fluffy hair.  This had to be a nightmare, because only in your dreams can your life change so horribly in such a short time.

As I look back now, I am amazed at the things that I remember very clearly, while other memories are muffled and seem so hazy it's as though I was watching someone else go through this nightmare.  One thing that I have no mistake about was that I knew I had only one chance to get this right and that when Jace left us that day, I would never have that chance again.  So, I called JoAnn from the hospital and asked her if she would like to come to the hospital and be with Jace.  I knew that JoAnn would be devastated and that this is the one thing that I could do for her.  So Mark brought her to the hospital and she sat and held Jace in her arms as she cried. Her worst fear had happened.  She had welcomed so many babies and children into her home to care for them and grow to love them.  Now she was saying good bye to one of her precious babies because he never woke up from his nap.
 
I do believe that God carries us through our most difficult moments by placing us in a bubble of shock.  I can say this now, because I know that without it I never would have laid my Sweet Baby Jace on that stretcher and watched them zip him in a body bag that afternoon.  As I write these words I wish I never would have let him go.  As if I could have rationally stayed with him until now - and they would have had to wait until I was really ready.  They said that we could have as much time as we needed with him.  The problem is that I needed him for the rest of my life.  




When I went into the room where my precious baby lay, I remember thinking "He is in there all alone. Everyone knows you don't leave a baby in a room by himself." When I opened the doors to the room where he was, I saw my son lying on an adult sized bed, wrapped in a blanket. There were no sides on the hospital bed; he was just lying there. My instinct was that he might roll off the bed, so I hurried to him and took him in my arms. My very first thought when I took that beautiful boy in my arms was of anger. Not at God, as so many people have expected throughout this nightmare. I imagined that while Jace was sleeping, Jesus reached out his hand, and Jace took his instead of mine. 

Since that first moment, I can't say I have had anger toward Jace or God. In fact, I feel guilty having had those feelings even for a moment. If Jace had met Jesus before his death, how could he not have chosen to go with him? Our understanding is so earthly and limited that we cannot possibly fathom what that must have been like.  

As a mother, I was supposed to protect my son. If only he hadn't taken that nap that morning. He was so excited about rolling over and we cheered him on. If only he hadn't rolled over maybe he would still be here and I would be getting ready for his first birthday with us instead of his birthday in Heaven. I have been told hundreds of times that he could have died in my arms, and that rolling over had nothing to do with his death. Had he suffered? As we approach Easter I am reminded of the suffering that Mary had to watch her son, Jesus, endure. Lord, please help me to understand that Jace is with you in Heaven, and that it is because of your love that I will one day hold him again.





















"If Tomorrow Never Comes"

If I knew it would be the last time that I'd see you fall asleep,
I would tuck you in more tightly and pray the Lord, your soul to keep.

If I knew it would be the last time that I see you walk out the door,
I would give you a hug and kiss and call you back for one more.

If I knew it would be the last time I'd hear your voice lifted up in praise,
I would video tape each action and word, so I could play them back day after day.

If I knew it would be the last time, I could spare an extra minute or two
to stop and say "I love you," instead of assuming you would KNOW I do.

If I knew it would be the last time I would be there to share your day,
well I'm sure you'll have so many more, so I can let just this one slip away.

For surely there's always tomorrow to make up for an oversight,
and we always get a second chance to make everything right.

There will always be another day to say our "I love you's",
And certainly there's another chance to say our "Anything I can do's?"

But just in case I might be wrong, and today is all I get,
I'd like to say how much I love you and I hope we never forget,

Tomorrow is not promised to anyone, young or old alike,
And today may be the last chance you get to hold your loved one tight..

So if you're waiting for tomorrow, why not do it today?
For if tomorrow never comes, you'll surely regret the day,

That you didn't take that extra time for a smile, a hug, or a kiss
and you were too busy to grant someone, what turned out to be their one last wish.

So hold your loved ones close today, whisper in their ear,
Tell them how much you love them and that you'll always hold them dear,

Take time to say "I'm sorry," "please forgive me," 
"thank you" or "it's okay".
And if tomorrow never comes, you'll have no regrets about today

~anonymous~ 


















Jace Means

Services for Jace Means, 4-month-old son of Jeff and Angie Means of Norfolk, will be at 10:30 a.m. Tuesday at St. Mary's Catholic Church. Visitation will be 3-7 p.m. Monday at the church, with a wake at 7 p.m., under the direction of Howser-Fillmer Mortuary.
He died Friday, Sept. 8, 2006, at Faith Regional Health Services in Norfolk.
---
He was born April 12, 2006, in Norfolk to Jeffrey and Angela (Sees) Means.
He is survived by his parents; a sister, Megan, age 7; and a brother, Carson, age 3; grandparents, George and Renaye Sees of Mission Hill, S.D., Clyde and Linda Means of Norfolk and Marilyn and Tom Caauwe of Norfolk; and great-grandmothers, Lillie Andersen of Yankton, S.D., Arlene Means of Tilden and Lorine Mozer of Meadow Grove.
The Revs. Dave Belt and Walter Nolte will be concelebrants. 















In Memory of Jace Anthony Means
Apr. 12, 2006
Sept. 8, 2006

Thank You Lord…for family and friends,
for co-workers and students, for churches and priests.

Thank You Lord…for nurturing fathers and nursing mothers,
for big sisters and big brothers,
for fresh flowers and warm fellowship.

Thank You Lord…for beautiful music and memorable lyrics,
for digital cameras and pictures to cherish,
for sand-cast handprints that last forever.

Thank You Lord…for sweet hugs and wet kisses,
for chubby fingers and long eyelashes,
for baby-soft skin and kissable toes.

Thank You Lord…for fluffy blankets and hand written notes,
for cuddly teddy bears and the color blue,
for memories to hold and the feeling of love.

Thank You Lord…for Your promise to us and a strengthening faith,
for tiny little ones and Your precious gifts,
for sweet baby boys…for a baby named Jace.

Author: Aunt Joan Mozer – September, 2006 










Consider The Numbers....By Robin Rice
(Taken from the SIDS & Infant Death Survival Guide)

Fearfully, and with an awful respect, I consider the numbers. 28,000 infants, at least, each year, in my country alone. That means someone's baby died today. Maybe as many as 80.

How many people, then - be they mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, grandparents, godparents, babysitters - how many were struck by death's powerful blow, dealt as if from a professional heavyweight boxer who allows his novice contender no handicap?

And how many funerals, full of well-intentioned people who grasped at meanings which were not there - are still not there - smacked of the unfairness of it all?  After all, isn't death supposed to come to six-foot-tall old men a full lifetime before it claims twenty-six-inch-long baby boys?

Or what about the infant car seats that sat hauntingly empty? How many of them remained strapped in until, somehow, someone was able to summon the Herculean strength it required to move it to the basement, or closet, or someone else's car where someone else's baby will likely have the audacity to live long enough to outgrow it?

How many parents' arms felt heavy and yet hollow, useless save to run grief-thickened blood through, keeping life going whether they really wanted it to or not?

How many lockets of hair served as the only hard and fast proof that there really was a baby here, once, who smiled and cried and whose life made that house a home and those people a family?

How many pacifiers (or booties or rattles) were unexpectedly found behind a couch or under a chair, causing an unsuspecting father to buckle a the knees, and just when life's journey was haltingly yet courageously being undertaken again?

And who knows the number of imaginary cries and wake-up calls for midnight feedings there were that drew a mother nearly to the nursery door before she remembered, and sunk to the floor in utter anguish?

How many future Little League players will never be suited up? And how many of tomorrow's dance recitals will be one angelic ballerina short, without anyone even knowing it?

And perhaps worst of all to consider:  next year's batch. Next year's 28,000 or so who are in the womb as we speak, luring innocent parents-to-be into dreaming dreams and making plans clear through the college years - joyous dreams and important plans that will never be. Next year's 28,000 who will each be the world's most beautiful baby, and the world's most tragic death.

    Please light a candle so we know you were here.

Today is May 3rd, my birthday. I am writing this on a day that used to be my favorite of the whole year. I have never worried about getting older because this was the one day that was mine. I grew up knowing I was special on my birthday and through the years that feeling has not gone away. Until today. I woke up this morning without Jace once again, but this time with a heavier heart than most days. On a day that I should be excited about Jace trying to grab at the frosting on the birthday cake that Jeff and the kids picked out for me, I am realizing that I will never spend a birthday with him. I have gone back to that September day a million times and my heart says that there must have been something I could have done to protect my Sweet Baby Jace. I still cannot grasp that I held that perfect boy at the sitter's and just a couple of hours later I was holding him lifeless in my arms. If only I had had some warning, some time, so that I could have been able to try to find the cure, the vaccine, the one thing that could save his life. I would have sold everything I own to have one more day with that beautiful child. Yet, he went down for a nap and did not wake up on earth but in Heaven.

May 7, 2007 - Jace was baptized on May 7, 2006, which is one year ago tomorrow. I have been emotional with the baptism of each of my children as I have thought of the significance of what was happening. The day Jace was baptised was a beautiful and sunny, yet windy day. Jace slept through almost the entire mass and baptism ceremony. After the actual baptism and pictures, we had lunch at a restaurant in town. By that time Jace had woken up and was so hungry. He could not possibly wait to eat, so he and I stayed in the van while everyone else went into the restaurant and started eating. I changed Jace out of his baptismal outfit into his little vest and pants that he got from Grandma Renaye. I remember all of the events of that day so clearly. I never would have imagined that day would be so significant in such a short time.

May 8, 2007 - Today it has been eight months since the last time that I held my Sweet Baby Jace in my arms. I know I should be grasping the truth by now, but I still find myself saying that I can't believe he is gone. Have you ever really thought, and I mean really thought seriously, about what forever means? People tell me all of the time "You know, it really isn't forever. You'll see him again." I believe with all of my heart that I will see that beautiful boy again, but all we really know and understand is here on this earth. So I know that this life will go by quickly and that I will be with Jace again soon, but every second I am without him seems an eternity. When I think about the fact that he is gone from my arms forever while on this earth, it is unbearable. Tonight I went through a couple of boxes of items in Jace's room. Mostly books and cards we have received from friends since September 8th. As I went through the boxes I ran across Jace's hand and foot print. Not prints that were made for me for Mother's Day, rather the prints that Mandi and the nurses made of my son's lifeless hands and feet the day that he died, one of the last reminders of how big he was when he was four days shy of being five months old. As I stood back and looked in the closet doors, there sat the empty carseat. The one that took me weeks to unbuckle from the van after "that" day. The one that held my precious son when I took him to the store, to the pool, to church, and to JoAnn's the last morning I saw him alive. I glanced up on a shelf and there sat his diaper bag. The one that I packed with bottles and diapers and extra clothes. The one we had to make an appointment with the detective to get back after they took it with them on September 8th. I looked inside. There I saw the clothes that Jace wore when he died. The little baseball romper that was my favorite because Easton had one just like it. All I could do was smell that little outfit and wish so badly that he was in the outfit right now. Eight months without my son. And still I wonder how I can make it one more day without him in my arms. 

May 21st.....Our weekend was filled with graduations and a wedding, so we were busy going to receptions and ceremonies. As I sat amongst the festivities all I could think about was the fact that I will never see my Sweet Baby Jace be a ring bearer, wear a tux, or be a groom. He will never walk through a graduation ceremony where we celebrate all of his many accomplishments. I am sure that he is so happy right now that all of those things would seem so trivial in comparison to the joy he feels in Heaven. Still, my heart aches as I long to just hold him. To be honest, I would simply settle with holding that precious boy in my arms just one more time. Of course I would not want that moment to end, so it would have to last forever. It is only then that I could say I had enough. As summer approaches I am filled with such mixed emotion. It was just one year ago that every day was filled with the joy and excitement of every blessing Jace brought to our family. Each morning we would sit outside in the lawn chairs and watch Megan and Carson play. How they loved to stop what they were doing to come over and give Jace a gentle kiss or hug. It was as if they were playing a game and they needed a time out in which his simple touch would refresh them and then they could go on.

June 13, 2007 - As of today I have lived through Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, Memorial Day, birthdays, and over 9 months without my Sweet Baby Jace. We are now officially on summer break and all I want is to spend it with all of my kids. Last summer I took the kids to the pool as often as I could, each time pushing a stroller. This summer I walk in carrying a swim bag, when all I really want to be carrying is Jace. I remember being at the pool one day last year on a day that Mandi and her sister Calli both had their kids there. Calli's son Jacksen was a year old at the time (his birthday is in April like Jace and Easton). I remember watching jacksen and telling Mandi that I couldn't believe that next year when we go to the pool, that will be the boys - it was amazing to me how much they would change in one year. My heart aches that I don't get to see him splash in the water and that life is not more difficult because taking a one year old to the pool is hard work. In the past few days I have given away some of Carson's old clothes - clothes that Jace should be wearing now. I can't believe I am doing that. That I am giving away clothes that I should be dressing my beautiful son in, but I can't because his sweet little body will forever be four months and twenty six days old. I miss you more than ever, my Sweet Baby Jace.

June 13, 2007 - On Friday, Jeff and I will celebrate our 11th wedding anniversary. Last year for our anniversary we went out to eat while Jeff's dad watched the kids. I was so nervous for Jace not to be with us, but I knew that we would only be gone for a little over an hour. I remember where we went that night, what I ordered, and what I wore. We took pictures of me and Jace before we went out that night. After all, Jace was our 10th year anniversary gift to each other, instead of the cruise that we had talked about for years. Tonight while at the restaurant, I saw a little boy sitting not far from our table. He had to be one of the cutest babies I have ever seen. I cried as I watched him interact with his mom and dad and big brother. I wanted just to hold that little boy and maybe pretend for just a moment that Jace was still in my arms and to feel what it would be like with him still here. Instead I just watched him through the tears and wondered if his mother really knows the precious gift she has in front of her. Although she seemed like a wonderful mother, I wanted to tell her to savor every moment with her children because you never know when those perfect moments end.

June 16, 2007 - We have been to the swimming pool four times since summer started. It is so bitter-sweet being there. Sweet because Megan and Carson have so much fun swimming, jumping off the diving board, going down the slide, and most of all eating snacks. At the same time, all I can think of is Jace and how much I miss him and want him to be with us so we can make more memories with him instead of them being cut short on September 8th. A couple of days ago while at the pool I was sitting by a friend of mine and she was sitting by a friend of hers. My friend Janelle introduced me to her friend and her friend proceeded to ask me the ages of my children. My heart started racing as I have not been put to in this situation very many times. I told her that Megan is 7 and Carson is 4 and then the conversation shifted so quickly that I didn't even have a chance to say that I have an angel who is forever five months old. As I sat there, all I could think of was how could I have denied Jace? I was so thankful for my sunglasses as I didn't want anyone to see the tears as I thought of what I had done. A while later, as I was getting Megan and Carson a snack, I went up to Janelle and told her how guilty I felt for not acknowledging Jace and the conversation went so quickly that I didn't have the chance. She was so kind and thoughtful and said that Jace knows that I love him so much and that I will get to be with him again. I am so thankful for Janelle being there that day to help me through those moments. Each time we go to the pool, we drive through the cemetery on the way there to ask Jace to come to the pool with us and tell him we wished he was here, and we drive through on the way home to tell him that we were sure he had fun swimming in heaven. Megan told me today that she was pretty sure Jace didn't even need the floaty we left him at the cemetery and that Jesus was probably holding him in the pool. She also decided that she is sure that Jace gets to eat pizza every day in heaven. I'm sure he does.

June 17, 2006 - Father's Day. Jeff's first Father's Day without his son. We went to church and then had lunch with Jeff's dad at a local restaurant. While waiting to be seated, one of the deacons of our church walked in. He had mentioned that there was more tragedy in our parish, as a young man (20 years old) drowned last night. We proceeded to talk about Jace and how long it had been since he died (this is the deacon that baptized Jace). I told him that I keep waiting to wake up and have some relief from the sadness but that day does not come. He said that a part of us has died, so our lives will never be the same. He also said that a part of us is still alive and that is the part that will carry us through with God's help. As we ate lunch this morning, all I could think about was the family that is going through their "September" this morning. Awaiting the autopsy results, wondering when their son would be brought back to town, funeral homes, family, friends, cemeteries, food. It all came rushing back to me and my heart ached for the family who must now live without their loved one. We tried to go about our day as normal as we could, taking the kids to the pool for Jeff to enjoy on Father's Day. On the way to the pool we stopped at the cemetery so Carson could ask Jace if he wanted to come to the Country Club with us. On the way back to the van, Carson asked us "Where is heaven?" Jeff and I both answered that it is somewhere above the clouds, but it is where Jesus and God live and that Jace lives with them now. I will never forget what Carson asked next, for as long as I live. He asked why Jace couldn't live at our house. I didn't know what to say. I think I just said because Jesus wants him to live in heaven with him. Carson kept asking why he couldn't live at our house and I was without words for him. My already broken heart shattered in a thousand more pieces as I thought about that sweet little four year old living without his little brother.
Jeff and I took some rolls over to the family in our parish going through the nightmare of losing their twenty year old son. We have seen them in church so many times but have never formally met. We spoke with, hugged, cried with, and tried to console a father whose son died within hours of Father's Day. My heart goes out to them as well as my prayers in hopes that the days ahead are as gentle as can be and that God will hold them so tightly as they say goodbye to their son.

June 23, 2007 - The past week has been filled with emotions as I have contemplated another family grieving for their son. I am so overwhelmed with an aching and longing for Jace that I can only describe it as a weakness that I feel. I believe that many people think I should be able to carry on and that life gets "easier" by now. I say that because people have said these very words. I know that before losing Jace, I would have thought the same thing. I can say, however, that the longing to hold my son and the heart ache that I feel without him has not gotten "better" or subsided or gotten less. I miss him more than ever and these days the tears flow more freely than they have in all of the nine months since Jace died. Although I believe Jace is with us wherever we are, I have found myself wanting to be at the cemetery as much as I can. I just want to be as close to him as I can and that is one place that I can find solace, even though sometimes in the midst of tears. Today I went for a jog, and as all of my jogs take me, I went through the cemetery. Maybe it is the music, or the adrenaline, or my aching body. I am so overcome with sadness that it literally stops me in my tracks and brings me to my knees. Maybe that is the point. Maybe that is the only place that I can get through this and find the strength to rely on my faith and remember that this journey will take me to Jace.

June 26, 2007 - HAPPY BIRTHDAY MADISEN HOPE HACKETT!!! I grew up in a small town in South Dakota. There were 18 students in my graduating class. Since our class sizes were so small, we couldn't help but be good friends with kids in the grades above and below us. One of my sisters is two years younger than me so I got to know the girls in her class very well. I believe there were only 16 kids in her class. Throughout the years, our lives have taken us many different places and we have drifted apart. I never realized that after all of these years, fate would reaquaint me with a friend in my sister's class. Eight years ago today, Tracy gave birth to Madisen Hope. For almost five months, Tracy and her family gave Madisen so much love that I could see it radiate through the pictures that she has shown me of that beautiful girl. When life was as good as could have been imagined, it all came crashing down. Madisen died of SIDS in November. I remember hearing of the devastating news when Madisen died and I wondered how a mother could possibly live without her child. I felt a connection with Tracy in the sadness because Jeff and I had just had our first child, Megan, in July of the same year. I never did reach out to Tracy because I just couldn't imagine what to say to her, therefore I said nothing. Just seven years after Madisen was stripped out of Tracy's arms, Jace was ripped from mine. In the past nine months, Tracy has been an incredible source of comfort, support, and inspiration to me. She is an amazing person. Who would have thought all of those years ago that we would be walking the same road of heart-ache and loss. Tracy, if you happen to read these words, I need to thank you from the bottom of my heart for all you have done for me these past months. For having the courage that I did not have seven and a half years ago to reach out. There is no doubt that I will rely on you to walk with me through this journey in hopes that I can stand on two feet - and if I can't I am sure you will be there to walk with me until I can. You have already been this rock for me. You are truly one of the kindest people I have ever known and I only hope that I can provide you comfort at times when living without Madisen seems much fresher than seven years ago. As I have thought about and prayed for your family today, I realized that Madisen is just a couple of weeks older than my Megan. I decided that through our connection, it is only reasonable to think that for the time being, Madisen must be a sister to Jace until his siblings and her siblings are together again. I can picture her holding his little hand as he has probably just learned to walk. That image in my mind is one of the sweetest I can remember ever having. So tonight I wish you the happiest birthday in Heaven, Madisen. You have touched my life although I never had the chance to meet you. 

June 30, 2007 - Today our town is celebrating the Fourth of July holiday with fun and games around the lake and a huge fireworks display tonight. The whole day takes me back to one year ago as I brought Jace and Carson back to the house so they could go to bed, while Jeff and Megan watched the fireworks. I have to admit that I thought of that time as special time just between the boys and me. I remember hoping and praying that they would not wake up when the fireworks show started. How I wish that the show would be loud enough to wake Jace tonight.... I went to a funeral this morning. The first funeral that I have attended since Jace's - nearing ten months ago. The young woman was a former student and cross country runner that I had the pleasure of knowing while she was in high school. I wondered if I could make it through the funeral without making a fool of myself. I knew it would be a much different ceremony than Jace's, so I persuaded myself to go (with Jeff's help). One of the things that the pastor eluded to and focused on was the fact that he was sure that Brandi would not want to come back here. Life must be so perfect in Heaven, where she assuredly has talked with Jesus. If I focus on that for myself and Jace, I think "Can you believe it? My little guy has talked to Jesus." It is pretty overwhelming. I really believe that he has and will continue to put in a good word for me. I know from the depths of my soul that Jace is happier in the arms of Jesus that he ever could have been in my arms here on earth. I just wish I could get myself to come to grips with actually losing him (his death), and knowing that I will live every day on this earth without him. I play the events of September 8th over and over in my head every day. It seems that I stop to focus on something different about his death and the days to follow, each day. Sometimes it is how it felt to hold him that day. It may be thinking about what he is wearing and the things we put in the casket with him, or what I could have possibly done to save him. So, while seemingly the rest of the world celebrates wth parties and fireworks tonight, I will try to think of happy times with my whole family while I had them here with me a year ago. I pray to the Lord that I, along with all of the rest of the mothers who have to go to bed tonight asking Jesus to tuck in their little ones, will get through one more night with hopes that dreams will give us a glimpse of our perfect angels in Heaven.

July 2, 2007 - Yesterday we all went up to South Dakota to spend a day with my family. Most of my brothers are involved in our amatuer baseball team, and we were finally able to watch a game. As it turns out, of all my siblings' families, everyone was represented except for two of them. Mom and Dad had 17 grandkids running around at the game (one of those grandkids was running around in Heaven). The kids and I spent the night last night and much of today at my mom and dad's. For most of the trip I was surrounded by nieces and nephews and it was good to be around them and especially good for my kids to play with them. Today there were four of us sitting around in the dining room of my parents' house. I realized that all four of us have little ones that are within seven months of each other. Courtney is almost 16 months old and is ready to run her first marathon. It's a good thing that Janelle is a runner because Courtney is on the go all of the time. I can't believe how much she looks like her older sisters - she is adorable. Alex whose birthday is one day after Jace's birthday, is taking his first steps. He really didn't want anything to do with me at the game last night until his mom suggested he walk from herself to me. I know I say this about a lot of baby stages, but there is nothing cuter than a one year old just learning to walk. His hair is so curly and beautiful. He is so attached to his mom and dad (Mom has Dad beat, though, I'm afraid). Then there is Landon Jace (or as Jeff likes to call him, L.J.). That little guy has won our hearts. Maybe it is the name, the smell, or the semi-toothless grin, or the giggle that no one can bring on better than "Granny". I will have to be honest in saying that these three little ones will always have a very special place in our hearts. They will forever represent to us the love we have for Jace. They will also always be a reminder of what is missing. I will always long to have Jace cry for me because there is no one else in the world with my touch. I will always wonder who he would look like. I would love more than anything to have a hard time saying no to him because he is so darn cute. I know though, that their beauty will forever remind us of the beauty we had in Jace. They were all supposed to be buddies; to get in trouble together. I know Courtney, Alex, and Landon will not grow up with Jace, but I hope that somehow a little bit of himself shines through in all three of them. I know he will always look after them..... Megan had a t-ball game tonight and Mandi and Tom were there with the girls and Easton. Mandi told me that Easton has taken his first steps. She wanted to tell me herself before I coud hear from someone else, or saw it for myself. Mandi, I know that you will read these words and I have to say that you are the most selfless person that I know. I could tell you that these milestones are not bitter-sweet, but you wouldn't believe me. Just know that we absolutely love Easton and are chearing him on, whatever he does. Please don't feel guilty for all of those wonderful moments with Easton, especially when we are with you. I can picture Jace standing a few feet away from Easton saying "Come on, buddy. You can do it. I'll catch you if you fall." And I really believe that he will.... After the game tonight Jeff and I went to a support group for parents of autistic children. At the meeting there was a new couple there with a little baby. I knew who they were, and it dawned on me that they named their baby Jace, only spelled Jase. I remember seeing it in the newspaper a while back. They said that he was three months old. He is a beautiful baby with a Jace-like smile that made me want to hold him and hold my Jace and pretend that the last ten months were a bad dream. As I saw the dad holding that precious little boy I thought to myself "Do you know how sweet and wonderful that little boy is?" As I watched their interactions and I could see how much he loves his son..... Savor the moments. Each and every one of them. Big or small. Don't wait until tomorrow to realize the blessings you have. If you do, they could be gone.

July 12, 2007 - Today I found out that a six year old boy was run over while playing outside. He died today. All of this just brings up so many emotions from the past ten months and especially the days surrounding Jace's death. Everytime I realize that another mother has to go to bed without her child, it rips me to shreds. I just want to go to that mother and take it all away from her. My heart is already broken, so maybe if I take on some of her broken-heartedness hers can stay in one piece. As much as I pray to take the pain away from that mother, I know her life is shattered and that she will never again be the same....The last few days have been a whirlwind for us. We are in the process of buying a new home and getting our house ready to put on the market. I knew the day would come when we would leave this house and I have struggled to think of leaving the house that I brought my babies home to. Even before Jace died, I knew the day we left would be difficult as I have watched Megan and Carson learn to ride their bikes, open all of their Christmas presents, take those precious first steps, all while in this home. All of my memories of Jace are from times while living in this house. I can see him lying on the floor talking to me and Carson going up to him because he just can't get enough of his baby brother. I will never forget the last time I saw Megan carry Jace through the hallway from his room to the living room while smiling his beautiful smile at me walking behind them on the last morning we were all together. I'm so scared that I will forget what those memories all look like. I know that I'll always have them, but what if I forget the pictures in my mind? Sometimes I think about Jace so much that I actually forget what he looks like. Is it possible to wear out a memory? I am trying to tell myself that this is our house and that we are moving to a new house. However, our home will never change. It will always be where we are. It will always be where we ALL are. This is the only house I had Jace, and I pray that God will strengthen my heart to accept that no matter where our house is, Jace will never leave our home.....It is Megan's 8th birthday today. It hardly seems possible that it was eight years ago today that I realized how much love could fill a mother's heart. I remember describing to a friend of mine who had no children, that when you are at work all day and you are going home to see your child, it is like Christmas. Each day you are in the presence of the greatest gift in the world - your own child. And if you can be lucky enough to have a second or third child, it is unbelievable. When I was about to give birth to Carson, I suddenly became panicked thinking that I had so much love in my heart for Megan that I could not possibly have enough room for another child. Then Carson was born and my heart expanded. Just when you don't think it is possible to love one more ounce, it overcomes you and you are defenseless to it's power. Eight years and so much that sensitive little girl has had to endure. Last year on this day we went to Sioux City to celebrate Megan's birthday with one of her friends. We had Jace's picture taken on the same trip. If only I could go back for just a moment. At the photography studio I forgot Jace's hair brush. I would give my life's savings just to get that brush back.....Since we made an offer on our new house, I have been going to the cemetery asking Jace to give me some sort of sign that this is ok. Yesterday Carson spent time at JoJo's while Megan had a softball game. When I dropped him off, I noticed a new angel figurine with a little basin that was filled with stars. I knew then that Jace was telling me that it is ok. I know he will always be with me but I so desperately need to cling to every fiber of him and every memory that I could possibly have of him. My sister-in-law, Cheryl, in trying to help ease my mind said that I am not moving on with my life because that is impossible. "Rather, you are moving forward with your life, with Jace." I pray that I have the strength to move forward, even though sometimes I feel like giving in and giving up due to the weight of life without my son....I end the day saying a prayer for yet another family grieving the loss of their precious son. Dear Lord, please give them the strength to get through the days ahead and to rely on you to carry them through this darkness. Cradle them in your arms as only you can, and give them peace.

July 16, 2007 - Yesterday I met a couple who lost their son last Thursday. They are amazing people with such strength in the midst of a world that has fallen apart for them. The first thing that the father (Dave) said to me when I sat down at the table with them, was that he was in the hospital the day that Jace died. He, for many years, was an investigator for our police department, left for a short time to be head security of the hospital, and has since returned to being an investigator. I have been told by a good friend of ours who was the lead investigator for Jace's death, that Dave is absolutely the best when it comes to child cases. Yesterday Dave told me that Jace was the reason that he went back to the police department. I couldn't believe the connection that I immediately felt with this couple, aside from the fact that we share a bond because we have to burry our sons before they have a chance to burry us. I had the honor of hearing some wonderful stories about Landon and who he was and is and the legacy he leaves with his family. He has affected my life by his compassion and love for others and for his family that was apparent in the stories I heard yesterday..... I took the kids to the pool today to try to have a sense of normalcy and to give me a chance to be with them being happy. While there, Carson started chanting "Mommy, Daddy, Megan, Carson" before jumping off of the diving board. I told him that Jace was still a part of our family and that it was ok to say Jace also. Carson told me that he couldn't because we "burried Jace". I couldn't believe what I was hearing and had no idea if he could comprehend the truth of those words. So I asked him what does it mean that we burried Jace. He told me "It means that we burried him and that he is in Heaven and he is in the hospital." He went on to ask me why Jace couldn't come home and be with us. For months, Carson has been saying that Jace is in the hospital. If only I could go to that hospital right now and grab him and bring him home. What I wouldn't give to give that sweet little boy the baby brother that he misses so dearly..... Tonight Jeff and I went to the visitation for Landon. It has brought back a flood of emotions as I realize what this means for that family and that there is nothing I can do to shield them from life without their son. I close my eyes and I try to imagine what life would be like for them, for us, with our sons in our arms. I would take away all this pain from them if I had that power. I read a book a couple of months ago about a mother who lost her son. She did not lose him to death, rather to prison. Her son killed a man who was abusing his children. This mother had a faith that carried them through some of their roughest moments. In one part of the book, reference was made to the mother's sister who prayed profusely for this woman. One day the mother had a day that was extremely hopeful and bright. She felt as though she could make it through this night mare and survive. She later found out that on that very day, her own sister was filled with a grief and sorrow that ripped at her soul and literally disabled her. They believe that the sister took on her pain and suffering for one day, so that she could regain her strength. I beg God tonight to give me as much of their burden and suffering that he will allow, to help them have the strength to say goodbye to their precious son.

July 21, 2007 - Today I met an amazing person. She is the mom to a very special angel, Hannah. Almost four months ago, Hannah went to sleep at her sitter's house and woke up in Heaven. Hannah's family lives close to my home town, so my family made sure I was aware of the news. I called Susan and Randy (Hannah's parents) just a day or so after the funeral to let them know that my heart was broken for them and that I was so sorry that they had to go through this. I didn't know what to say, or if I should call, but I just needed to let them know how sorry I was. Over the past couple of months, I have gotten to know Hannah and her mommy through Hannah's website and through email. Today I met her for the first time. She is an amazing person who gives me so much hope. We spent time at the cemetery with Hannah. It is such a beautiful place that exhibits the love that is shown for that precious baby girl. When I first saw her grave site I felt my heart rip apart at the thought of these wonderful people living without their beautiful daughter the way we are living without our precous son. The pain is so devastating that to think someone else is feeling that same heart ache is almost too much for me to bear sometimes. Susan told me some wonderful stories of Hannah and how much she misses her. She also told me about the butterflies that she believes Hannah sends to keep herself close to her mommy's heart. I believe too. Susan told me something that I will never forget. She told me to keep looking. That Jace is there and that he is with us but we need to keep looking. I believe in all of the stars that God has sent me, through Jace, when I have needed them most. One thing I have learned in the past ten and a half months is that there are no such things as coincidences. We choose either to believe, or to brush moments off as "it couldn't be" and not believe. The past two weeks I have felt myself slipping, missing Jace more and more and the sadness taking over. With Susan's help, I believe God cradled my face in his hands today and said, "Don't you see how much I love you?" Thank you, Susan, for helping to restore my strength and for opening my eyes once again to all that is possible if we only believe. 

August 8th, 2007 - Today is the 8th and I can't believe that 11 months have passed since I lost my precious Jace. That means I am in the final month before I hit Sept. 8th. When I thought about that today, it turned my stomach. If I had known on Aug. 8th last year that I only had one month more of life as I knew it, I can't imagine what I would have done. You know, I really miss Jace more than ever and wonder if life will ever get "easier" or "beter" or the "different" that might make waking up and living through each day a little more bearable. I have come to realize that life will never be the same as I am not the same person I was eleven months ago. Through the tragedy of losing our son my life has really changed. My faith is stronger than ever, through which I know I could never survive without. I believe that God never intended for us to suffer like this, but through sin we all have to die. But I don't think it was ever in God's original plan that we should suffer the sorrow and grief of loss through death. The only consolation is that God is suffering with us and holding us through our pain. I believe that God has cried with me as he watches me, his own child, long to hold Jace.... A friend of mine gave birth to a beautiful baby girl on Monday. My friend Julie, is an amazing person. Early on in her pregnancy she found out her daughter would not live long after birth. So, despite questions and criticism she fell in love with her daughter for nine months. After giving birth to her daughter, Julie and her husband held their beautiful, precious little girl for sixteen minutes before she died. When I talked to Julie she told me that all she asked for was one minute with her sweet angel. Tomorrow they will say goodbye to a little angel who was never meant to suffer this world. A little angel who is loved as much as one who lives a full life on this earth. I have learned so much from Julie as I have witnessed her courage and love for a daughter that she will always know better than anyone else. I pray that she may find some peace as her sweet baby kisses her cheek tonight and as God wraps his loving arms around her. 

September 5th, 2007 - The past month has been so overwhelming with the thoughts of last year and the the thought "if only I had known". I would not have done anything differently if I had known that Jace would be gone from my arms, except maybe I would have never left him that morning. I would never have let him go to sleep. However, I do not have regrets and thoughts that I should have said "I love you" or appreciated the time that I had with Jace more. I did all of those things. I knew how lucky I was and that I had everything that could ever make me happy here. Every day I have many moments and thoughts of what I was doing last year at this exact moment. How much life has changed in that time... As I drove to school this morning I thought about the way my drives to school used to be and how they will never be the same since my September 8th. And as I was thinking those thoughts, I listened to the angelic sound of my little Carson singing in the back seat and realize that there are still good things in life, even though happiness will never be the same as it was before the day my precious baby Jace died... We are in the process of moving from our house to a new home. Many tears have come as I think about all memories I had in that house of all my kids. I brought all my babies home to that house. Sometimes I don't know if I can actually leave. Unlike with Megan and Carson, I will never have Jace in our new house. At least not his physical presence. I believe he will be with us in the new house and everywhere we go - however the thought of leaving that house is too much sometimes. We've had a lot of issues in the past few weeks in our old house with flooding in the basement, and renovations needed due to those problems. Maybe God put that on our plate to somehow make this move such a welcome event for us. And we are excited..... With that said, I have yet to change Jace's room since the day he died. His sleeper and onsie still hangs on the side of his crib. The one he wore the night before he died. His diapers can still be found in his changing table, along with the lotions and creams that we used. I think that is what I struggle with the most with this move. Tonight we will spend our first night in the new house. I have decided that I will bring a few of Jace's things with me tonight. I'll grab his blanket and some other things that I can just have with me. The rest will come out by the weekend. It's ironic that we are leaving the house the week of his anniversary. I guess another part of God's plan. So as Friday and Saturday approach, I ask for prayers that we are able to make it through these tough days and that God continues to whisper that he is with us always. 

October 22nd, 2007 - Over a month has passed since we went through the anniversary of Jace's death. In the past year, I have gone through many firsts. Often, the anticipation of the day brought on more emotion than the actual day itself. It's as though you build yourself up for the day, knowing it will be incredibly difficult. The day comes, and you find it was more bearable than the days preceeding it. I thought that might have been the case for September 8th, but I was wrong. I think those days from Sept. 7th - Sept. 12th just threw me back into last year. I didn't realize that I had made some progress over the past year, but I must have, because I know that I was stripped back down to nothing. And I wonder, "will every year be this way?" Some people have said that they are sure it will get easier with time now that the first year is over. I am not sure of that, as I am not really sure of anything except that God will carry me through as he has so many times these past months. Now that one year has past, I feel as though people around me think I must be "better." Some have even said as much, stating that now that I have gone through all of the firsts, life will get easier. Mandi puts it well when she says that the only thing getting through the first year has proven, is that I can make it through it. Nothing more. It does not provide me with a coat of armor that will somehow shield the blows that come with living every day without my son. It does not mean that Christmas and Easter and birthdays and Jace's birthday and every day in between will not rip at my heart and tear it open all over again. It simply means as she put it, I know I can "get through" those days. I have done it once - I can do it again, and again, and again... until I can finally hold that sweet little boy again. . .

Wednesday, October 31, 2007 - Halloween. Last night I told Jeff that I couldn't believe just how busy we could be with the kids and this crazy little holiday. I told him that all along when I would dream of being a mom, these were the things I couldn't wait for. Walking down town with my little "Sponge Bob" and my little "Tiger Cat" (who doesn't look so little at 8 years old and almost 5 feet tall). There were kids everywhere. At each business the kids were lined up just to see one little tootsie roll go into their bucket (of course as a mother I was happy because I hate having all of that candy in the house). There was a lot of creativity in the costumes that we saw. I wondered who had more fun, the parents or the kids. I remember one year ago when we did the same thing - taking the kids trick or treating down town. I think I was more of a zombie at that time. I can barely remember that day. Last night I could not sleep - I kept thinking about what we may be dressing Jace up as for Halloween and how cute he would be. Last year I had a "Big Bird" costume that sat in the closet without him in it. I can't wait to see Easton walking this year, holding a bucket out for candy. It doesn't get much cuter than that....
Today I spoke in two Family and Consumer Science classes about SIDS. There were some students in the classes who were already parents, while others only dreaming that it will be many years before they take that step. I urged them to take the recommendations seriously that are given to help reduce the chance of SIDS. It had been a long time since I spoke the words of that September day, at least out loud. It was really hard while I was speaking, but I am glad that I did it. I know that many of them will not be parents for a long time. It is my prayer that when that day comes, they will remember learning about Jace and the unknown reason that he died. Hopefully when that time comes, there will be a real explanation for SIDS and a way to detect it and prevent it from taking any more of our precious babies too soon.

Wednesday, November 21st, 2007 - Today is the day before Thanksgiving. I find myself saying, "Ok, after tomorrow, I can check another holiday off of my list to get through before I can be with Jace again." And as I write these words, I can't believe that I am thinking those thoughts, because I have two wonderful children here with me now. So it brings me to think about what I am thankful for... really thankful for. The reasons I suffer are with me always and have become a part of who I am - a side effect of losing a child. Sometimes I think I define myself by my grief, wanting no one to forget about the beautiful son that I once held in my arms. My greatest fear-people forgetting there was Jace. So, out of loving respect for his beautiful memory, I attempt to really focus on the parts of my life that I am eternally grateful for. 

       Three perfect children and a wonderful husband. I have, for as long as 
       I can ever remember, wanted nothing more than to love and be loved 
       with everything that I am. 

       A great family - my own as well as Jeff's, who has become my own, 
       who have given us amazing support in our lives. Especially the past 
       year. 

       Friends who have given their support throughout the past year. One
       thing I remember before the funeral started, was looking out at the 
       people in the church and telling Jeff, "Look at all of our friends." 

       Then the are the friends who are more like family by definition, than 
       friends and for being with me on the most horrifying day and 
       moments of my life. 

       For all of the mom's and dad's who have survived their 
       September 8th and struggle to continue on without their sons or 
       daughters. It is impossible to realize or understand the insanity that
       becomes reality when you lose a child. 

       Above all things I am thankful to God for giving me the 4 months and 
       26 days that I had with Jace. I believe that I have seen a glimpse of 
       what Heaven will be like through the happiness that was mine while 
       we were all together. For giving me the strength to literally survive the 
       past year, even though there have been many moments I would rather
       not. And for giving me the faith to know that I will be with Jace again. A
       day that we ALL will be together again, without loss or sadness, 
       grief or death.

Christmas Eve - 2007 - Today we celebrated Christmas with my family. I was reminded today of all the support and love we have through our family. Most of my siblings gave us a gift for Jace. Many of them were ornaments, some were notes, but they were all out of respect and love for us and for Jace. I cannot say that it was easy to sit and watch all of their families celebrate without hesitation from their happiness as gifts were unwrapped. As long as I can remember I have anticipated bringing my children home for Christmas. To go home without one of my children was never in my "plans". It was never in my dreams that the holidays would be so difficult. I never had it mapped out like this. As I watched all the little ones play and interact, I thought so many times that Jace would be doing much of the same things. And then all I could think of was that his little body must be so cold, while we are all so warm. That he is lying there with a picture of his brother and sister beside him, while everyone else is having pictures taken while they feel their brothers and sisters beside them. I know that I need to remember and focus on the fact that he has received the greatest gift of all. I can't imagine the happiness he must feel right now and a warmth far greater than that we could ever have felt today. It isn't my plan. It was never supposed to be "my" plan.....  Merry Christmas my precious Jace. 

Tuesday, January 1st, 2008 - A new year - I know by now I should "get it". I will live my life here on earth without Jace. Why, then when I woke up this morning did my heart sink lower in my chest because I realized I am starting yet another year without him. Its as though if I could get through the holidays then I could see to the "other side" - and then they come and go, and then what? Jeff and I talked about it this morning and he said that he sees it as though it is one year closer to being with Jace again. I want to see it that way, but how do I do that? How do I move on in this life and not look back at what I am missing? I want to take a step forward, and most of the time I think I have, but then there are times like this. Sometimes I feel like I am allergic to being in my own skin; my own life. I guess it is true that you take one step forward and then two back sometimes. I AM trying to move forward. I want to be happy and to make my family happy. I just don't know how. In church this morning I kept thinking about how God has helped me through so much in the past 15 months. I read a passage in a book for January 1st about God being there for you through all of life's darkest moments. Why is it that sometimes you can feel him so close that if he has breath you could feel it as he carries you? Then other times he feels so distant that you're seemingly alone? "Lord, help me to make it through this night only to find myself refreshed with a HOPE that life can still be good and that happiness can surely still be within reach. Please let me feel your presence as you carry me through this rut in the road that I have traveled today. And know that I humbly thank you for holding my hand through this entire journey."

February 18, 2008 - Another month has come and gone and I find myself doing the best I can to live. Only I don’t know what that means. There are moments when I believe it is simply survival and the fact that I’ve made it through to the end of the day is a victory. Some people have warned me that the second year is harder than the first, because the shock is gone and you are left bare to the realization of life without your child. I don’t know if I can say that, but I do know that the pain does not lessen. It does get different as I was told would happen. I do know that it is heart breaking to know that it has been 17 months since the last time I held my Sweet Baby Jace. Tonight I could not help but dwell on the day we buried Jace. I keep remembering leaving his side that day. There is so much of that day that is a blur but I remember standing by the car just staring at his casket, not wanting the moment to end; not daring to say goodbye. I will never forget my dad coming up to me and hugging me as well as my oldest brother, Mike. Those moments will forever be etched in my memory and cherished in my heart.
     I have always believed that those who die before us and are in Heaven, surround us with their love and are really with us. I remember as a child knowing that my sister, Tammy, was with me. My parents always told us “You know you have a saint who can help you out.” As crazy as it sounds I felt lucky, knowing she was there for me, sort of looking out for me and saying extra prayers on my behalf. Now, I don’t just choose to believe it, I have to believe it. I can’t say that I feel lucky like I did as a child, to have my own child looking after me, but I do believe he is with me all the same. Every day I pray that I can really feel Jace with me. I can’t say that I have very many times since he died. So I pray to be with him in my dreams every time that I sleep. I only wish that somehow knowing he is with me was enough to sustain me. I guess that’s where God comes in and carries me when it is simply too much.
     Since he died, I have asked Jace to be with many people to help them through difficult times. I have also asked him to look after little ones – saying extra prayers on their behalf. I know he cannot do what God can, but I believe he can pray for people and be with them when they need extra help and comfort. It is tonight that I ask Jace to pray for and be with the little ones who have given me a breath when mine was about to run out; those that I have held and gazed on as I have rediscovered that only a loving God could create such perfection. I love you little man. I love you so much.  (Happy one month birthday little Cohen!)

Saturday, March 08, 2008 – Today marks one and a half years since I last held my Sweet Jace. Today I had a moment when I thought it was all a dream. All of it. As crazy as it sounds, sometimes I don’t believe it has happened. I’ve thought so much about September 8th and how much life has changed and how I am not at all the same person I was before the events of that day. A couple of days ago I met the woman who said that she used to drive the van for the preschool Carson attends. After talking about Carson for some time, she told me that she drove Carson from preschool to JoAnn’s that day. I just started to cry. I just think it was the last thing I ever expected her to say. She told me that when she turned onto JoAnn’s street, she saw the ambulance and fire truck and police. She pulled over under a tree and just started having a conversation with Carson. She knew right then that God was with them because Carson handled it so beautifully. She told me that she actually saw the paramedics carry Jace out of the house and into the ambulance. For 18 months I have wondered if they carried him in their arms, or if he was on a stretcher, so I asked her. She said the man had Jace cradled in his arms. I have hoped all of this time that he had not been on a stretcher; his sweet little body. Now I know another little piece of the puzzle. All of these things I just long to know. The woman (Karen) told me that after the ambulance drove away, she drove up to the house and the policeman told her that he was sure that the little one they just took away was Carson’s brother. So she drove him back to the school and I think she said they bought him lunch at McDonalds or Burger King. I’ve never even thought about who fed Carson lunch that day. I am so thankful for all the ladies at his school – they are wonderful and were obviously amazing on the worst day of our lives.
In church tonight my memories drifted to a different lifetime. I had Jace in church on a Saturday night at 5:30. It was a beautiful summer night and I had him in an adorable little outfit. For some reason it was just him and I that night. Jace kept flirting with the people in the pew behind us. He would look at them and when he had their attention he would smile his huge smile, the one that made his whole body move with excitement. It is one of the most beautiful memories that I will ever have.
Tomorrow we have the opportunity to meet Natalie Grant, the Grammy winning artist who sings the song “Held” that we had played at Jace’s funeral. I have no idea what I will ever say to her except that God spoke through her in those days after Jace died and so many days since then.
Eighteen months without my child. Eighteen months I have longed to touch his skin and smell his scent. Eighteen months that I never knew I could make it through. As I have said all along, there is one thing that is certain. We have made it through this far only by the Grace of God. “God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28)

Thursday, March 27, 2008 – I have been sitting here staring at this page as I contemplate what to write. I have so many thoughts, yet I am at a loss for words. This is how it is at the end of the day. Disbelief. As crazy as it sounds at the end of so many days I lay in bed and wonder if this is a bad dream that we can’t wake from, or has this really become our life. We are only a little over two weeks away from Jace’s birthday. At this moment I am uncomfortable in my own skin, wishing I could do anything to grab that little boy from the next life and selfishly bring him back to mine. As friends and family around us celebrate birthdays of their little ones, I feel like hiding, as I am reminded of the loneliness that I feel in rooms full of people. A loneliness disguised by smiles and conversation, as my mind fixates on a birthday party I wish with all my heart I was planning. A party with cake and balloons that we actually keep here on earth instead of ones we send to Heaven. And yet all of this is the very reason we must continue to celebrate with those that we love. Life here is so short and filled with uncertainty that we have to grasp every opportunity to celebrate the lives that are so dear to us. God has blessed us with amazing friends and an incredible family, by whose support has helped to carry us this past year and a half. I am thankful. Truly thankful.

Monday – June 23, 2008: The day we buried Jace, we were in a fog. After the luncheon we went into the church to go through flowers and plants and let our families take something with them to remember the day. A day I want to forget yet I try so desperately to remember. When we left the church on that beautiful ugly Tuesday, I will never forget Jeff’s words. “What did we just do?” It was unbelievable to think of it. We had the best life imaginable, been told our son was dead, planned a funeral, and buried our son in a matter of five days. Not long after leaving the church we went back to the cemetery. All we saw was a small mound of dirt in the spot that we last saw Jace’s casket sitting. In front of the dirt was a temporary grave marker bearing the name of our youngest son. How in God’s name could this have happened? The only consolation was that they had misspelled his middle name. Instead of Anthony, they had spelled “Antony”. Since it wasn’t really his name maybe it wasn’t really him under that dirt. I was upset with the funeral home for not getting it right. Didn’t they understand? This is our son. As if the day wasn’t enough as it was, we had to call the funeral home and ask them to redo the marker. It then dawned on me that his spray of flowers that draped his casket was nowhere to be seen. I’ve been to many funerals, and I have always noticed the spray gently covering the dirt after the burial. So, once again we called the funeral home to find out where the flowers were. The flowers were baby blue and white lilies and daisies. They were so beautiful. There were two long stemmed red roses with a ribbon “brother” from Megan and Carson. They were also gone. After some phone calls, we were informed that the flowers had been buried with Jace, on top of his casket. At the time I told myself that it was ok. It would do no good to upset people. After all, there was nothing that could be done at that point. I even tried to make myself believe that those were from us and that they were forever close to him. Why then, am I so furious about it now? Was he just another “job” – so lower it down and throw the dirt on top? Where was the compassion?
          In the past couple of weeks I have come to find anger and bitterness that I believed I would not face. Maybe it has come amidst another birthday without the birthday boy and my second Mother’s Day without my son. I have read the books, listened to the therapist, and know the “process”. Maybe I thought I could beat it and skip over that part. How do you ever get “through” the process anyway? Sometimes it is just so frustrating because I don’t know where to go from here. The outside world has seemingly moved on. I am told by so many, “It’s just that no one can understand what you are going through.” It would seem that after a year and a half of being without my child that he might be forgotten. While some struggle to keep his picture out, I grasp with every fiber of my being to “reinvent” new ones out of the finite set that I have. Thank God for digital magic that can change an existing photo into one just slightly different enough that I might fool myself into believing it is a new print. My reality is that I lose my son all over again, every day. And if I am lucky enough to have each night’s prayer answered and dream of that bright eyed, wide-smiled boy as he was alive, then it makes losing him the next day that much harder. 
          It is true. No one can know the heart of a mother who has lost her child. No one can understand the depth of sorrow that she can know having faced 18 months without the son she will never see again this side of Heaven. It has been a year and a half since I last saw that beautiful smile, touched his soft baby skin, smelled his sweet scent, and kissed his precious cheek. My greatest prayer would be answered if not another mother would ever have to know this world without her child. So if you cannot understand, I thank the Lord. And to those who know that they cannot possibly understand but still continue to do what they can to help us and to let us know that they remember Jace, I am more grateful than could ever be known.

Sunday, September 7, 2008 – Tonight marks the eve of the second anniversary of losing our sweet son, Jace. I have spent so much time going back to the weeks and days before this life changed forever. It still seems unbelievable to have lived life those days so oblivious to what was about to happen. Yet I still find myself bargaining that if I had just had another day, or a couple more weeks. But I know there would never be enough tomorrows. So I find myself still longing to touch that amazing skin and to see that smile that was biggest for me. What would he be like at two and a half? I try to imagine him and his personality and our family in a world where September 8th is just like any other day. It’s so hard to do, despite lying in bed trying to make myself dream it to reality. I have come to believe that Jace was never to know this world past that beautiful late summer day and that God knew it all along. I don’t believe God made it happen or that he took my son from me on purpose. I also know that he could have stopped it from happening, and for this I am sometimes angry. But I also have faith that His ways are so unlike ours and that this world is so unlike His that His reasons for allowing my son to die must be profound. It doesn’t make the reality any easier, but it makes the fight more worth fighting. Maybe that’s what HOPE really is. Yesterday I told Jeff that I couldn’t believe that it has been two years. To me it feels like yesterday most of the time. He said that it just feels like we’ve lived with this heaviness for so long and it is hard to remember a life where you could wake up in the morning and feel anything but a longing for that precious child we will never see grow up.
I wish there was some way to find joy or peace in tomorrow. Jace’s birthdays are difficult, but we can celebrate the life we were so lucky to have. This is so different. Some might say that we should find joy in knowing that he is in heaven and how awesome that must be. I’m not sure anyone who has lost a child can look at “that day” and think about anything but loss.
I will continue to go through each hour and minute of the last night and morning that we had Jace, as hard as that is. It is what I have to do – I have to feel those last wonderful moments because they are the best of what I have of that amazing little life. I know that means losing him all over again, something we do every day when we wake up. The strength comes from knowing that we are not alone. We have such loving friends and family and a God who will hold me in His arms tomorrow, perhaps even tighter than today to help me through.

Monday, September 7, 2009 – So many days have come and gone since Our September 8th, yet it seems like it must have been just yesterday that we held our sweet Jace for the last time. I surround myself with pictures and even more pictures as though if I could just see him enough on paper it might be enough. It is never enough. People say that time heals all wounds. I believe that the only time that can heal losing a child is the end of time when we are all together again. Sometimes it is literally hard to breathe. Right now I can hardly stand it. Maybe I am feeling sorry for myself, but I keep thinking “I didn’t sign up for this life.” I have always pretty much done the right thing. Why then has this happened? Why has it been three years since I touched my son?

I have a deep realization that I have so much to be thankful for and am overjoyed at the blessings that God has given us. I thank the Lord every day for blessing us beyond what we could ever deserve. How can someone feel like they have everything, yet everything ripped away, all in the same moment?

Jace would be three years old. He would be going to preschool now. I wonder what his personality would be like and who would he look most like. I pray that I could just see Jace in my dreams and that they would be good dreams. I so badly want to see him and to hear him call me mommy. I spend so much time imagining him running to me with his arms outstretched for me. My arms will always ache to feel him.