Tonight's photo collage represents the years we were able to celebrate Mattie's birthday ---- 2002 to 2009. Seven short years, but each birthday we made memorable together.
Quote of the day: For some moments in life there are no words. ~ David Seltzer
It is hard to believe we had 7 Years with Mattie and NOW
today marks 7 Years without Mattie. Mattie would have been 14 today. If you
think time heals all wounds then you haven't lost a child. One of my favorite
quotes says, "Do not judge the bereaved mother. She comes in many forms.
She is breathing, but she is dying. She may look young, but inside she has
become ancient. She smiles, but her heart sobs. She walks, she talks, she
cooks, she cleans, she works, she is, but she is not, all at once. She is here,
but part of her is elsewhere for eternity." This of course applies to the
bereaved dad as well.
At Mattie's celebration of life service in 2009, I wrote
this message below to Mattie. I always read this message on his birthdays and on the
anniversary of his death. I share it with you, just like I ALWAYS did with him.
He LOVED hearing about the DAY HE WAS BORN!!!
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My Dearest Mattie,
It is said that parents love their children right from the
moment they are born. However, in your case, our love for you began as soon as
we learned we were going to have a baby. In fact, right after seeing your
sonogram picture, we felt like proud parents. We posted those pictures
everywhere. We shared these pictures with practically anyone who would listen
or showed interest, and each September when I taught prenatal development in my
undergraduate human development class, out would come your sonogram pictures to
illustrate my points. Even my students got a sneak peek at our baby, a baby who
would have a profound and meaningful impact on not just his parents but also
every community he touched. Daddy and I did not only love you, we FELL IN LOVE
with you, and that love grew stronger with each day. Your energy, spirit, love
for life, intellectual challenges, sense of humor, and loyalty to your friends
and family were only some of the wonderful traits we always admired in you.
It seems fitting as we celebrate you, and say good-bye to
your physical presence that I share the story about how you entered the world.
The story of your birth had to be one of your most favorite stories to hear,
and I found during times when you were reflective, overly tired, or in need of
hugs and tenderness, the request for this story arose. In fact, I remember on
August 5th, the day we found out that your cancer metastasized everywhere, you
and I were sitting in the hospital’s rose garden, and you requested the story.
It was almost as if you knew this was going to be a bad day, so in essence we
might as well brace ourselves, cuddle, and prepare for this together.
Here is the story I always shared with you. A story Daddy
and I will never forget. On April 2, 2002, at 11pm, I decided to head to bed. I
was anxiously awaiting your birth, and as your due date approached, I couldn’t
help but wonder, when will “the baby” be coming? I was restless and uncomfortable,
so while in bed, I began to watch television. I was having trouble
concentrating on what I was hearing, mainly because you were kicking up a storm
inside of me. At which point, the kicking became so intense, that I literally
felt something pop. You clearly wanted OUT, and you were going to kick your way
into the world on your terms. Naturally after feeling this pop, I looked down
at my tummy, and when I jumped out of bed, I realized my water had broken. This
only happens to 25% of moms, and in retrospect, I should have guessed that this
was just the beginning of how different our lives were going to be together. I
immediately called the doctor and told her what happened. She asked if I was in
pain, which I wasn’t, and she instead told me to get a good night’s rest,
because my baby was going to be born the following day. Well I can assure you
after hearing this news, sleeping was the farthest thing from our minds.
So on April 3, 2002, Daddy and I headed to the hospital and
we were admitted to the maternity unit at 8am. The labor process began, but it
was a VERY slow process for me, and at times as you moved inside my tummy,
Daddy could see your head pushing against my backbone. Needless to say Dr.
Mike, the anesthesiologist, became my favorite doctor that day. The hours kept
rolling by, and still there was NO sign of our baby! I was getting weaker, I
developed an 102 fever, and by 11pm I really had no energy to give birth to
you. In addition, to how I was feeling, your oxygen supply was getting cut off,
and your chin was positioned in such a way that would make the birthing process
almost impossible. So it was at that point that the doctor recommended an
emergency c-section. Things began to happen very quickly around me. I was
signing paperwork for surgery and Daddy was being transformed by putting on a
bunny suit so he could enter the operating room.
I had never been in an operating room before in my life, but
I really wasn’t concerned at that point about myself. I was solely focused upon
you. I was wide-awake for the c-section, but unable to see the process, which
as you know, was probably a good thing. Daddy on the other hand found the whole
thing very exciting, and began to videotape and take pictures of the surgery.
Literally a team of people surrounded me and I will never forget Dr. Mike, the
anesthesiologist who sat by my side, and talked with me and did whatever he
could to keep me pain free.
When you have a c-section, your arms are strapped to the
operating table, so I couldn’t move, and directly over my head was what
appeared to be a rope with a clamp that was holding open my abdominal cavity.
Normally by this point I would have passed out, but when it came to you, I
developed strength I never knew I had. As the doctor began cutting, and finally
got to you, the first thing she said was, “what is this?” That is NOT what you
typically hope to hear when having a c-section. The doctor let me know that I
had a grapefruit sized tumor on my bladder, and my immediate thought was, did
this affect the baby? The next thing I knew, I felt her tugging, and I heard
the loudest cry ever. Now here is the part of the story that I know was always
your FAVORITE! I would always try to replicate the sound I heard coming from
you that day, a sound that will always remain in a parent’s ear. It was a very
large WAAHHH! WAAHHH! At which point the doctor told us two things: first, that
you were one of the most beautiful babies she had ever seen, and second, that
you had quite a set of lungs on you! I concurred with both statements.
The doctor then brought you over to me, and she felt that I
needed to be the first person to touch you. So despite my arms strapped to the
table, my right hand miraculously reached out and grabbed your tiny, soft, and
cute foot. It was a moment I will always cherish, a moment in which I will
never forget, and a moment I am so happy you too enjoyed hearing about. Each
time I retold the story I felt as if it further bonded us together, and I
always enjoyed hearing your comments, thoughts, and reactions to your story.
Seeing you made Daddy very happy! Though he was worried
about me, since after the c-section, I had to have bladder surgery to remove
the tumor, we both agreed that Daddy should stay with you and accompany you to
the nursery. It is there that Daddy got to see you cleaned up, he learned that
you weighed 6 pounds and 13 ounces, and that you had high Apgar scores of 8 and
9. Within an instant, Daddy became one of your fiercest protectors, and he
cared for you for five days straight while we were in the hospital together. In
fact, Daddy is the first person who changed your diaper, and though those were
five very challenging days in the hospital, they were days that helped us form
our strong family ties. Ties that were imperative and that we relied on for
seven years of your life!
Your presence is so greatly missed. Nothing seems the same,
is the same, looks, feels, or tastes the same without you in our lives. May you
always know that Mommy and Daddy love you, cherish you, and that feeling will
remain with us forever and always. Good-bye my Mooshi Moo angel and goodbye
Daddy’s best buddy. With love from Una Moon and Daddy!
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In Mattie's memory, Peter and I explored the Loxahatchee Wildlife Refuge in Boynton Beach. The Refuge includes the most northern remnant of the historic Everglades wetland ecosystem. It was fascinating and right up Mattie's alley.
Here are our 7 sightings today that reminded us of Mattie. Seven sightings for the 7 years we had him in our lives.
Sun rising into a very cloudy sky!
The butterfly is my symbol for Mattie. One of Mattie's favorite colors was orange, which is why orange is one of Mattie Miracle's primary colors.
I have never seen locusts up close. But literally they were ALL around us and walking with us. I felt like I was in the Old Testament of the Bible. It actually was a very creepy feeling because they were hopping, walking, and jumping all around us by the hundreds.
My first close encounter with a 2-3 foot alligator!
Blue Heron
The beauty of the refuge.
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