Surprise!

Stephen and I are engaged!!!

I get to marry this amazing man... 

The most patient, selfless, and loving man I know. 

I am one lucky girl. 

I know, I've been holding out on you guys... 

I'm sorry!

He proposed on a trail while we were in Gatlinburg. 

I had no idea... my Daddy was the only person who knew.

He totally kept it from my mom, too! 

She was as surprised as me!

(and as always, she was the picture taker:)

 It was so beautiful.  

And there were butterflies... EVERYWHERE.  

We literally had to avoid stepping on them while we were on the trail. 

It was the most beautiful and perfect place. 

I've posted this picture below on Facebook, and I've had some people ask me if it was photoshopped. 

It's NOT photoshopped.  

Stephen stuck his hand out and one little butterfly crawled right up onto his hand :) 

And then it let me stick my hand in, and stayed long enough for my mom to snap some pictures! 

There was nothing more comforting.

Just more proof that my little man approves. 

Stephen was there for me through the worst possible time of my life. 

He took care of Tripp and me in a way I never thought would be possible. 

And he's still taking care of me.  

I'm marrying into an amazing family that I've known my entire life. 

God knew the people that I needed in my life at the right time. 

I'm counting my blessings for sure.  

Every milestone for me will be bittersweet, of course... because I can't share it with Tripp. 

But I know my baby boy is looking down and is proud of his Mommy. 

And I think he knows that I am being taken care of in the best possible way.  

Just as he was... 

Thank you all for your continued prayers, love and support.

Love, 

6 months...

I can't believe that it's been 6 months since you were in my arms.  

I miss you, bubba.  

I would give anything if we could be rocking and singing Elmo again.  It hurts to even be going through your pictures.... 

Mommy loves you more than you'll ever know. 

Love,

I'm still here.

Hello to all my faithful friends! 

Thanks so much to those of you who are still reading this, though I've been a really big slacker lately.  I guess I kind of have a fear of repeating myself over and over with the same things.  And lately, it's just been the same ole' thing...

Time is passing by like I never imagined.  I am still seeing my amazing counselor (whom I love).  She's been a tremendous help to me these past months.  I'm so glad I started seeing her when I really didn't think I needed to.  Because I definitely needed to. 

Also, I met up with another mom in Baton Rouge, LA who also lost her baby girl at the age of 2.  She lost her baby 13 years ago due to medical issues as well.  So I was able to hear her story and see where she is right now (which is a very good place).  She was also very helpful to me.  I felt like she could actually relate to me and actually mean it when she said she knows how I feel.  She said that the sadness isn't going to go away... and that I will never ever stop missing my baby.  But one day, this physical, aching pain in my heart and soul will stop hurting (...because I promise you that the loss of a child is an actual, true and physical pain).  I can't imagine it going away.  But it was nice to hear her say that it might one day stop hurting.  And that one day, this guilt I feel for everything will one day go away.  Because the guilt is sometimes worse than the pain. 

My days consist of good days, okay days, and bad days... and lately, a good day can turn into a bad day in the blink of an eye... or vice versa.  I just never know what can spark up a meltdown.  I know meltdowns are good.  And I know that letting things out is good.  Right now, I just can't bear looking at pictures and videos.  They make me so incredibly sad.  So unexplainably sad.  

I know one day that I'll be able to look at those videos and smile and think about all of the good and happy times we shared together... but right now, they just make my heart hurt more.  

I miss my baby so much. 

I had dinner with Dr. Defusco this past Thursday night.  We've been trying to get together for months but she's just been so busy.  Finally, we got to see each other and catch up a little.  She had called me about a month ago to tell me something very special that I haven't shared with you guys.  

Dr. D won System Physician of the Year at Ochsner Hospital this year. 

(I know, I know... so well deserved, right?) 

She said the hospital recognized her for the amazing work she's done (not only for Tripp, but of course for every other one of her patients). 

AND get this... they spoke about Tripp and I at the banquet as well.  

I can't think of anyone in the world more deserving of this award than Dr. Defusco. 

I am so incredibly proud of her. 

And I told her that was Tripp's way of thanking her for everything she did for him. 

Some other good news... My sister is in town.  She's here for about 3-4 weeks until they have to go to Montgomery, AL... and then they will be stationed in Valdosta, GA. 

Her husband Mike has to go back to North Dakota, though, so we won't be seeing him for a few more weeks.  But I do get to hog some sister time!!

Tomorrow, we are leaving for Gatlinburg, TN.  We go at least every other year with the family for vacation.  I love it.  I've always loved it.  But the last time I went was with Tripp when he was about 3 months old (on our way to Cincinnati Children's).  So as with everything else in my life, it will be just a little bittersweet...  knowing he won't be with us this time.  

I am looking forward to spending the week with Stephen and all the family, though.  

They'll be lots of bonding time:)

Please continue to pray for my peace.  

I know where my sweet baby is... but it doesn't help the pain. 

I love you all very much. 

Thank you again for the unending support you've given me through the past years. 

I am so blessed. 

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."  Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.

- 2 Corinthians 12:9

Love, 

Today makes 5 months...

...since my baby left my arms to live with Jesus.  

So instead of writing about how sad I am... I'm going to thank God for the 2 years and 8 months He gave me with him. 

It doesn't take away the hurt or the pain, or the fact that I miss him more than words can say... but I really am grateful that I was chosen to be Tripp's Mommy for his short time on Earth. 

So today, I will share my MOST favorite video again. 

Just because this is the Tripp that I hope heaven is getting to enjoy. 

I love you and miss you, my Bubba. 

Love, 

God is Love.

It's almost been a month since I've posted.  The days seem to fly by so fast lately.  I feel like I'm constantly doing something at all times to keep my mind distracted.  

The days are getting harder.  

I miss him so much.

So much that sometimes it will physically hurt.

I'm floating back and forth between the stages of pure grief with the feeling of being completely lost and then the idea of thinking about the next stages in my life.  And when I start to think about the future and the great things that are in store for me... as happy as that makes me, I also feel a tremendous amount of guilt for thinking about those things.  I know in my heart that Tripp wants nothing more than for me to be happy, but sometimes the feelings of guilt are overwhelming.  It's a strange feeling... sometimes I feel like the only things I feel comfortable doing are the things that I did when he was still here. That way, I'm not doing new things without him.   

In my heart, I know that he knew and loved Stephen... so I feel like he approves of the relationship that I am in... and that at least makes one thing stress-free and easy.  

Because moving forward is so difficult.  

I know that anyone who has lost a child can sympathize with me when I say that MOST days, if given a choice... I'd rather be dead.  That's just the cold, hard truth.  It's an unbearable, unexplainable feeling. 

Anything that I do, I think about Tripp not being with me.  

I think about the things that we didn't get to do together and the things we won't get to do together.

Except I'm pretty strong.  I hate being so strong.  Sometimes I wish I wasn't so strong.  Sometimes I wish I could cry in public... then maybe people would know I'm not just "moving on" and "okay."  Maybe then they would know that I think about my baby every. single. waking. second. of the day. 

  

Did I mention that I love my counselor? 

 She's really great. 

 And she's very Christian- which I love, of course.  

We are really getting to know each other a little better each time I go, and that is really nice.  

She's trying to help me to learn how to focus on the GOOD times Tripp and I had together instead of thinking about the things we missed out on. 

Except when she told me I was making progress, I cried like a baby.  The guilt completely takes over me sometimes- especially when someone thinks I'm "moving on."  Even though I know deep down that it's okay to make progress... all I want is to rewind 5 months and have my baby in my arms.  

 I do love being able to try and explain to her what an amazing little boy he is.  It's kind of impossible to do unless you really got to meet and know him, though.  

He was and still is such a brave little disciple of Christ. 

Some days are just unbearable without him.

I've been trying lately to make myself get off my stupid phone or computer and read my Bible instead.  It shouldn't be such a sacrifice, right?  But sometimes it is.  After I read, though, I feel so much better... Like a wave of peace finally passes over me. 

So tonight, I think I want to focus on one thing: 

LOVE. 

As I lie in my bed... next to Tripp's blankets that are still placed neatly in their spot... all I can really think about is love.  First, I think about how much I loved him.  I think about the days, hours, minutes and seconds that we spent together.  Nighttime is the worst now.  It brings back the most memories for me.  I loved nighttime with my baby.  I loved waiting for him to fall asleep so that I could kiss his head or hold his little fingers without him "fussing" or slapping me.  I loved the music we played and the prayers we would say.  Without sounding boastful, I would say that I pretty much gave up my life for him.  Because the day that he was born, he became my life.  It was a choice.  A choice to do whatever it took to keep him alive and happy.  I think that is LOVE. 

Then I think about how much he loved me.  Sometimes I think that God sent Tripp to me to save my life. And I think Tripp agreed to.  I hope this doesn't come out wrong, but I honestly feel like he really did save my life.  I wasn't a bad person before I had Tripp.  But I was a selfish person.  I thought that I knew how to love, but I really didn't.  He taught me that.  He taught me the true meaning of unconditional love.  That means loving someone with absolutely no judgement, no boundaries, no limits.  Maybe Tripp's little soul didn't "choose" to come to the Earth and suffer... or maybe it did.  One day I will know that answer.  But I do feel like, in a way, he gave up his life to save mine and perhaps others.  Whether it be by choice or not, that is LOVE.   

And then I think about God's love. 

I know this is hard, guys.  I know that if right now I told you that God LOVES you, you might sit back and roll your eyes a little and think to yourself... (here comes the holy-roller part).  Just give me a chance, though... I promise that I'm no where near perfect and that trying to get to heaven is a working progress!  I know sometimes things don't always go the way we want them to (trust me, I can vouch for that) and that sometimes we get frustrated with God.  I've been there.  I'm still there.  

But He is so forgiving.  He wants us to know Him.  He wants us to make the right choices.  And he wants us to CHOOSE Him.  And before all, He wants us to love each other.  God knows we make mistakes.  He knows that we aren't perfect.  And he knows everything you do and need before you do.  He tells us all of this.

"Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you."

-Jeremiah 1:5

"Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him." 

-Matthew 6:8

But I wonder why some people have no problem believing something they read in a magazine or see on TV, but it's so hard to believe something that has been passed down for thousands of years that never changes. 

 His Word.  His Word is love.  God is love.

"In the beginning was the Word, 

and the Word was with God, 

and the Word was God." 

-John 1:1

"Whoever does not love, does not know God, because God is love."

-John 4:8

So, tell me, why is it SO hard for us to love each other?  The world is falling apart right before our eyes because we just won't love each other.  That's all that it boils down to.  Plain and simple.  No one has respect for anyone else anymore.  The things that come out of our mouth are disgusting- the curse words, the gossip, the ugly things we say about other people... 

"But no human being can tame the tongue.  It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison.  With it we bless the Lord and Father, and with it we curse human beings who are made in the likeness of God. From the same mouth come blessing and cursing.  This need not be so, my brothers. 

-James 3:8-10

What's it going to take for us to change this?  Could it start by just ONE person showing an act of kindness... or has the world already fallen too far?  If you are kind to someone and they don't accept your kindness, do you get frustrated and give up?  Did you know that God says this:

"He should know that whoever brings back a sinner from the error of his way will save his soul from death and will cover a multitude of sins." 

-James 5:20

"Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance." 

-Luke 15:7

That's huge.  What a promise, right?  

He's telling us that if we bring someone back to God, that we will save our own soul from death. 

So why are we destroying each other?  

We all think that we deserve more than someone else.  Sometimes we get so wrapped up in our own lives and in ourselves that we forget about others.  We all think we are worthy of things, when actually, not a single ONE of us are promised tomorrow, nor do we know our future... 

"Come now, you who say, 'Today or tomorrow we shall go into such and such a town and spend a year there doing business, and make a profit'- you have no idea what your life will be like tomorrow.  You are a puff of smoke that appears briefly and then disappears.  Instead, you shall say, 'If the Lord wills it, we shall live to do this or that.' 

-James 4:13-15

I'll end on this... 

I trust and believe that I know exactly where my baby is.  

And all I know is that I want to get there too.  

So if we can't trust and believe in God's promise... 

then what are we living for? 

Love, 

To my baby on your 3rd birthday,

Help me to find the words to say to you today.  

I'm so sad.  

I know you wouldn't want me to be sad, baby, but I am.  

I can't help it.  I wish you were here.  

I wish I were decorating the entire house so that it looked like it "threw up" Elmo. 

I know that's what kind of birthday party you would have wanted- Elmo everywhere.  And maybe even a little Bert and Ernie mixed in there.  

  

This is the hardest post I've had to write.  

I think it's even harder than the post I had to write on January 14th. 

Because now the shock is wearing off, and reality is setting in.  

You would be THREE years old today, baby boy.  

I wish we were rocking in your favorite spot and I wish we were singing songs together. 

And then maybe if you felt okay, you would play "Happy Birthday" for me on the drums like you did last year on this day.  

I wish we were beating the odds again this year. 

I wish we could chalk up another year of beating EB.  

But this is reality, I guess. 

You don't even get to see your THIRD birthday. 

Bubba, I need your help in convincing me that EB didn't win. 

I want to say it, but saying it and feeling it are two different things.  Right now I feel like it won.  

Because it took you from me.  EB took away the most precious gift I've ever received... You.  

But I know you aren't having the same feelings as me.  

I know you are up there in Heaven, soaking up the Living Water and the light of Jesus.  

I know you aren't wishing that you were back here... suffering.  

I know deep in my heart that you are in the best place possible. 

But it's without me.  

Baby, you've never been ANYWHERE without me.  

That's why it's so hard.  I'm supposed to be with you.  We go everywhere together. 

I remember the day you were born... 

Oh, how beautiful you were. 

You were the most amazing baby from the second you came out of Mommy's belly. 

You were SO good.  So quiet, so patient, so perfect. 

The day you turned a year old was such an incredible milestone for us.  

Boy, had you been through a rough year... a feeding tube, over 10 teeth, a breathing tube, practically living in the hospital... and then starting to have sores in your eyes.  

You were so beautiful.  

You were SO good.  

Nothing ever bothered you.  You never cried. 

I can't tell you how proud I was the day you turned ONE. 

I don't think the doctors thought you would live to be TWO. 

By this time, you had surely been through the ropes.  

Infections, losing your eyesight, the sores that kept coming and wouldn't heal. 

The pain... 

You were such a trooper on that day.  You smiled, you played, you entertained everyone.  

Even though I know you were hurting. 

You make me so proud, baby. 

For you to turn TWO years old was a blessing.  We all knew that.

It showed the power of love, prayer, and perseverance.  

But we don't get to see THREE.  

You are spending your third birthday in the lap of Jesus. 

I'm not sure that any Elmo party can top that... 

But oh, how I wish we could try.  

The day before you left me was torture... the day that you left me was torture...

The days after you left me were torture... 

And today, living without you in my arms is torture... 

And now, THIS is what I have to do to honor your birthday- I did this before I left to come to New Mexico to see your Nanny.  It was pouring down raining and was supposed to rain all weekend, so I knew I didn't have a choice but to put something out there in the rain.  

Well, it didn't work, of course.  

The balloons didn't stay.  

(I can't wait until your monument is made so it can be pretty out there). 

I guess I'm just new at the "decorating the cemetery" stuff. 

No Mommy should have to do that. 

I sat in my car, soaking wet.

And I cried... and cried... and cried. 

It's so unfair. 

I sure hope God is throwing you the best Third, Elmo Birthday party EVER. 

You deserve to be able to finally get to stick your little fingers in your cake and pig out. 

I wonder if God has a camera to take pictures so I can see one day, too.  

Because Lord knows Mommy took lots and lots of pictures of everything.  

Could you ask him that for me, baby? 

I'm devastated. 

I miss you. 

It's not fair that I'm not with you. 

It's not fair that I have to stay behind and try to breathe without you. 

Sometimes, it literally is hard to breathe without you. 

I'm so proud of you. 

I don't think I could possibly be able to FEEL any more proud of you. 

You are the greatest gift and the most precious blessing that I've ever received. 

I wish we would have had more years together.  

I wish I could have seen you take your first steps forward without holding on. 

Or maybe even learn how to play your first set of "big boy" drums.  

I wish we could have eaten an ice cream cone together.  Or taken a boat ride.  

Or gone to the beach together.  

I wish I could have watched your first t-ball game.  

I wish we could have gone to get a snowball on the hottest day of the year. 

I wish I could have taken your picture for your first day of kindergarden. 

I was walking through target the other day.  

That's where I bought almost every single one of your toys (we pretty much bought out the store).

And I passed by the toy section.  My eyes welled with tears as I saw SO many new toys that were on the shelves that if you were still here, I know I would have bought them all.  

I saw a really cute toy that I knew you would have loved.  

I hope Jesus has it for you in Heaven. 

Today also makes 4 months since you've left my arms. 

But it seems like an eternity ago.

 I want you back in my arms. 

Happy, Happy THIRD Birthday, in heaven, my sweet boy. 

I know it's not a happy day for me... but I sure hope it is for you. 

I hope you know that Mommy would be there with you if I could.... 

lighting your candles and letting you open SO many presents. 

My heart is aching.  

I miss your face, the touch of your fingers, your smile, your fusses, and your smell. 

I miss rocking with you all day long, listening to our favorite songs.  

I would give my life up in a second to be with you again.

No question about it.  

You were, are, and always will be the most important person in my life. 

  I love you Bubba.  

I miss you with all of the heart I have left :(

Love,

 Mommy

*Anyone who would like to honor Tripp for his birthday can make a donation in his name to the Butterfly Fund.  Just click the link and there are several options for donating. 

I know Mrs. Laurie, Mr. Michael, Allie, and the board of directors for the Butterfly Fund will be thrilled for the help to make some of the family's lives just a little easier. 

I know that is what Tripp would want for his birthday. 

Thank you all SO much!

That can't happen fast enough.

I've come to the conclusion that I am one really lucky girl.  Reading all of you guys' comments is honestly a really humbling experience.  I know I've said this before, but I really cannot imagine going through what I went through and what I'm still going through without the support that I've been given by all of you.  Not only the comments on this blog, but the emails and the actual handwritten letters people are sending to me.  It's so comforting.  I'll be honest, there are some days when I get letters and I just don't feel like reading them... I think these are the days when I'm feeling semi-okay and I guess I don't feel like working up a pity party.  But I set the letters aside until that moment when I need a really good "pick me up" and I want to lay my fist into the wall.  Those letters sure do come in handy.  They remind me of Tripp's purpose here.  They remind me of the love and care I gave to him that sometimes I forget when I'm so frustrated, sad, and mad.

Oh, your letters are so kind.  They really are.  I'm not sure what I ever did to deserve so much love and support.  But I'm pretty sure it was the angelic little face and personality of my baby boy that made you fall in love.  Whatever it is, I thank you... from the bottom of my broken heart! 

I know I asked you guys what I could blog about because I was having a hard time trying to come up with something to say besides "I'm just plaid SAD."  But I think right now I want to try my hardest to explain to everyone how I'm feeling, as best as I can, because I think it will help me a little too (gosh... that is selfish, right?) 

Ok, so just maybe a brief summary...

I think I'll start by saying something that I'm not sure if I've ever said.  You know how the doctors told us that Tripp wouldn't live to be a year?  And you know how I watched as other EB babies passed away who were Tripp's age or younger or older?  And do you know how I would say in my blogs that I knew I didn't have forever with him and that one day I would lose him?  

Well, I never, ever believed that.  That's the honest truth. 

 I could say it a million times in my head and try to prepare my brain for it- but never could I picture my life without him.  Maybe it was because I literally spent every, single, waking, (and sleeping) minute trying to keep him alive, that I really and truly thought that we were going to win.  I honestly thought that we could beat EB.  I put my heart and soul and every single ounce of energy I had into keeping my baby alive.  I tried every possible option that I could to keep him with us, all the while telling you and everyone else that I knew the day was coming when he would leave me, and not believing it myself. 

 And with that being said, I was totally UN-prepared for what was to happen.  

I know everyone on this blog has seen Tripp's pictures and watched a few videos.  But I really want to focus on what an absolutely amazing human being he was.  Super human in strength, so wise beyond his years, smart as a whistle, talented in music, and had the most incredible personality of anyone I will ever know.  He was always happy.  As a tiny infant, and as a two and a half year old.  He literally only cried when he was getting a bath or a diaper change and he was in pain... and sometimes he didn't even cry for that.  I tear up every time I talk about him this way, because it's so important that people know this about him.  You couldn't help but be in love with him.  He was funny.  He couldn't talk and never in his short life spoke one word, but made me laugh and smile more than anyone ever has.  He made me the happiest girl in the world.  This may sound silly to you, but since he was very small, he was always in tune with my feelings.  He always watched out for me.  When I was happy, he was happy.  When I was sad, he would stop in his tracks and shut down.  Like he was genuinely concerned about me.  He did this with me up until his very last days.  

He always took care of his Mommy.  

There's so much to learn about life from this little angel.  

There was a period about 2-3 months before Tripp passed away that is almost impossible to describe.  We were EXHAUSTED.  Everyone.  Me, my mom, Mrs. Pam and mostly- Tripp.  This was crunch-time for me.  I knew he was getting sicker by the day.  I could feel it.  I knew when he starting interacting with us less and less that I had to step-up my "Mommy" game.  This was when I started talking to the doctors in Minnesota about the Bone marrow transplants.  Dr. Tolar said that in order to know if he was going to be able to perform the transplant, he would have to talk to me face to face.  Now mind you, at this point, I had only left Tripp overnight one other time when he was about 3 months old (before his trach).  So I was a tad bit nervous (and so were my mom and sister).  So Stephen and I booked tickets to MN, had a meeting with Dr. Tolar, and together decided that the BMT was not an option for Tripp. 

I was DEVASTATED. 

Of course I didn't want Tripp to have to go through more suffering and poking and prying... But now- there are  absolutely NO options left.  There is no feeling like watching your child suffer and being able to do absolutely nothing about it. 

So now what?  Well when we get back after being away for about 24 hours, Tripp was MAD.  He wanted me in that rocking chair pronto.  And then after that day, he didn't trust us.  I think this started his anxiety issues.  He would "switch rockers" literally about every minute or less.  I think he was nervous about someone leaving him again.  So he cried and fussed constantly.  Reaching up in the air to "switch off" as soon as mom or I got in the rocker.  

I don't know if I've ever described this either, but for the last 6-8 months of Tripp's life, he went straight from the rocking chair to the bed- barely getting up to play.  This meant that neither mom or I could even be alone with him (what if we needed to go to the bathroom.. or eat?)  But what I call "switching rockers" meant that whoever was rocking him, actually stood up, lifting him up lying down (on pillows sewn together) and placed him in the arms of the next person who sat in the rocker.  This is how he "made" us do it because he felt too bad to stand up.  

And so then I went into Survival Mode: AKA-

 "These **** doctors are not going to be right and

 this **** disease is not going to take my baby from me." 

We started trying everything... essential oils, topical vitamins, bathing him in "tea baths,"and even something called "miracle gel."  His sores were getting worse and healing them was impossible. 

Then he started with his feeding and belly problems.  Every time I would feed him, he would cry, hold his belly, or even throw up.  I still to this day don't know what was wrong with his poor belly.  Maybe it was also covered in sores like his whole little body (makes me sick and sad just to think about that).  But at this point, I tried everything imaginable to get nutrition in him... but it wasn't working.  No nutrition meant more sores, which meant he was in more pain.  So Dr. Defusco, Trea (Tripp's pharmacist), and I worked overtime trying to come up with a pain and anxiety medicine regimen that worked for him.  What a nightmare.  Bath time was an absolute nightmare.  There were times in the last few weeks that I prayed and prayed that my angel not have to live through another bath (and then when it was over, I would pray and pray that God not listen to my previous prayers... poor God was probably as confused as I was).  The trouble we had was that we weren't sure how much of the medicine he was actually getting because we didn't know how his little body was metabolizing it.  If his stomach and intestines were covered in sores, then how could he be absorbing it?  Oh, it makes my heart ache to think of the pain he was in. 

The last 2-3 weeks of his life were unbearable.  They seem almost like a blur to me today. 

I know that when Tripp stopped fighting, I was devastated.  I could tell that he stopped fighting when he wouldn't fuss us... he couldn't lift his arm to ask for a new toy... and he was so swollen, that he couldn't hold his Elmo.  It was only at this time that I started feeling like maybe I really wouldn't have my baby forever... maybe he was actually getting tired.  But I was still never able to picture my life without him.  Maybe at this point was when the "shock" set in.  Or maybe it was that my heart was literally broken and shattered into a million pieces.  

The night before Tripp passed away, I honestly didn't expect a thing.  I knew he was swollen and less responsive, but he had been SO sick SO many times, that I just didn't know what was ever going to come.  As far as I knew, he could have held on for months longer and bounced back... 

But for some reason, I woke up around 2-3 am- he didn't wake me- he was sound asleep.  I just woke up on my own.  His little body so swollen and propped up on blankets and pillows.  

I talked to him.  For hours.  I held his precious, swollen hand and I told him every possible thing that I could think of to tell him.  I told him how unbelievably proud I was of him.  I told him that never, ever could he possibly know how much I love him and how much of a better human being he made me.  I told him about my grandpas and how I knew one of them was up there waiting to ride him on the tractor, and how the other couldn't wait to finally meet him and sing "Long ago and Far away."  I cried and cried.  I said rosaries.  I talked to God.  I talked to Mary.  But most importantly, I told Tripp that it was okay for him to go.  That finally I was being unselfish enough to know that he couldn't fight any longer... but how PROUD I was of the fight he had.  How PROUD I was to be able to be called "Tripp's Mommy."  What an incredible honor it was to be able to be his Mommy. 

I promised him I would be okay.  And I promised him that his suffering would never be in vain. 

And then I fell back asleep.   

Only to wake up a couple of hours later to what I knew was the time. 

He was dying. 

I knew it, I could see it, and I could feel it. 

His skin was tinted blue.  

That skin that I kissed, cleaned, wrapped, and loved for 2 years and 8 months to the day... 

was turning blue. 

There was nothing I could do.  

He wasn't crying.  He was only breathing heavier by the minute.

And he wasn't responding to my voice or my touch.  

God woke me up at the exact, perfect moment... I'm certain of that. 

I ran to my mom's room and got her up.  I told her it was time.  

I picked up his heavy, lifeless body out of bed for what I knew was the last time. 

I sat in the rocking chair with him in my lap... my mom behind his head, sitting on the couch.  

We waited no more than about 3 minutes... rocking him and telling him it was okay... 

 and he took about 3 heavy, deep, gasping breaths. 

And that was it. 

He was gone. 

My heart, my life, my best best friend... was gone. 

In what felt like seconds.  

Something left me at that moment.  I can't explain what it was, but I will never in my life be the same.    I'm here to say that there is NO other love that could ever compare to the love you have for your child... or at least the love I had for my child.  

And that leaves me to today. 

The aching, torturous, minutes of every day.  

The nights- oh the nights... I dread nighttime.  I completely dread having to crawl in bed without my little man next to me.  I look at all of his bedding... the same bedding that was there the day he left me.  I look at his pictures hanging on the wall and I get a terrible, nauseating feeling in my stomach.  I hate having to live in this world without my baby.  It is complete and utter torture.  

And the people I see, bless their hearts, they don't understand.  

How could they?  

But they try... they ask how I'm doing, and me... I nod and say, "I'm fine." 

I'm a strong woman.  I know that I am.  

But I'm not okay.  Not right now. 

Am I living?  I guess... I'm keeping busy and putting on my happy face.

But losing a piece of your heart... sucks.  Bottom line. 

I'm trying to think of any way to describe what I'm feeling at this point. 

Lost, devastated, sick, mad, angry... 

Seeing parents pushing their kids in the grocery cart at the store is hard. 

Seeing kids in church is hard. 

Seeing any little boy and picturing what Tripp was or would be like at that age is hard. 

Seeing kids PERIOD, is hard. 

But what really irks my chain is when I (secretly) watch parents who are so ungrateful for their children.  Children are such a blessing.  I wish all parents would treat their kids like every single day was the last day they were going to see them.  Not every one is ABLE to have kids, and not everyone is gets the honor of being able to watch their kids grow up.  It's a gift.  I wish people would treat it that way.  

I will never be able to see my baby's first day of school. 

Or his graduation. 

Or see him get married. 

Or have kids of his own.  

There aren't words to explain what that feels like. 

I've said this before... but when you spend every second of your time and every ounce of your energy on loving and taking care of your only child... and then all of a sudden, he's taken from your arms-

It's sickening, gut-wrenching, and totally unfair.

And I never have and never will say "why me?"  Because if Tripp wouldn't have been given to me, I never would have known what true love was.  I never would have appreciated "life" (I'm talking about REALLY appreciating life).  If he wouldn't have been given to me, I would still be in my own little world, living what I thought was my perfect little life- oblivious to what was going on around me.  And if Tripp wouldn't have had EB, I wouldn't have gotten to spend every single second of his life with him, knowing and loving every inch of his little perfect body.  Maybe I would have missed out on something special that he did... if he would have been a healthy baby.  And if Tripp wouldn't have had EB, I never would have known that such a terrible disease even existed.  

It sucks that my angel had to suffer just for all of these things to happen.  

I think of him as a little warrior for Jesus... carrying his horrendous cross here on Earth and now ecstatically celebrating in Heaven over what he has done.  

I get that.  I understand that.  I'm not mad at God.  

The problem is that I want to be there celebrating, too.  

Why should I have to stay here when my baby is in heaven?

That's where I am right now and what I'm trying to figure out.  People can tell me all they want that I "have a purpose" and "I will do great things for EB."  

And maybe one day I will.  

But right now- it's just hard to wake up every day and actually survive... 

Much less do anything productive. 

I feel like I'm walking around life-less.

My only goal now is to get to Heaven.  

And that can't happen fast enough.   

Tripp's beautiful butterfly garden, planted by Grammy. 

Oh, how I miss those big brown eyes... 

And these precious feet. 

And what I wouldn't give to be able to hold these hands in mine again. 

Love,