Wednesday, April 8, 2009


Since I'm now far more comfortable in sharing my journey with the world, I'm posting exclusively on my main blog. Alex's death is not a separate thing from the rest of my life, it's a huge party of it and I need to put those peices together to continue to move forward.

If you've received a random act of kindness card in memory of Alex feel free to tell us about it by clicking the link below and commenting on the first post you see! It warms all our hearts to hear about the people Alex's story touches.

Please come on over after you've read Alex's story.

Sunday, March 29, 2009

And he lives on

A few weeks ago the hospital I worked for announced that they were looking for stories for the WHA "Employee pride" program. The stories should be what brought you to healthcare. Of course I wrote about Alex, since he has been what has directed every day in the past three years of my life and I won! The family and I get to go on a trip to the Wisconsin Dells for a couple days of waterpark fun in May!

I thought I'd share the story with you:

In 2006 my son was born with a devastating set of heart defects. We spent the entire 7 weeks of his life in the hospital fighting for every breath he took.

Shortly after his death I was given the honor of attending the passing of another baby we had known. That day I realized that although I could never get back what was lost the day I held my son for the last time, I could carry his spirit on with my hard earned knowledge and understanding. As I held this child’s tiny body in my arms and looked into the eyes of his mother I felt the deep connection we now shared. Our stories were forever altered and had taken the same fork in the road.

I left that day and knew that through this experience my son was asking me to carry forward the compassion and empathy that few people can truly have. I couldn’t spare my children the pain of learning their brother had died, and I couldn’t alter God’s decision to take my child, or the family members of others home. But I could take the hand of a stranger, look into their eyes and in a silent moment share their pain and give them the hope that it is possible to survive and move forward.

And so I went into healthcare. I currently work in admitting and am in school for my Medical Assisting degree. Every day I bring a little bit of my son with me. A child who lived until we were strong enough to let him go and gave more than he ever took with him. A child who taught me that some people are born with special hearts, the rest of us have to work at it.

I've also been putting some ideas together in continuing to spread Alex's message and of course this blog will be the hub of that effort.

A few months ago we were fortunate enough to be in a position to preform our families largest Random act of kindness to date. We purchased a handheld Nintendo game system and 2 games for a little boy in the store we were shopping in. It was so much fun to see him walk out with the games with his little face lit up like Christmas morning!

More to come!

Sunday, October 5, 2008

Oh Alex

You've been on my mind so much lately. I've started a new job at the hospital and talking about you with co-workers has been difficult. I'm not sure why, I've never found it difficult to talk to you before.

Last week the NICU team from Marshfield came to get a newborn from the nursery and I felt such a huge lump in my throat watching them walk past with that tiny incubator. I remember seeing you in what could have been that very same incubator and saying goodbye to you as you left for your journey to Marshfield that night, uncertain if I would ever see you alive again. For a moment I felt a connection to that mother upstairs I didn't know, as I knew how she was feeling watching her own tiny baby dissapear down the hall.

I miss you so much. It still physically hurts in my chest sometimes. Feeling like I might suffocate under the weight of it all. Then there are times I cannot comprehend it really happened, I replay the memories in my mind like a movie I watched a long time ago.

I love you bubba and what I wouln't give to hold you just one more time.

~ momma

Sunday, August 17, 2008

Not fitting in

Remember the first day of school? I know, wayyyy back for some of us. Ok, maybe just me. Remember not knowing anybody? Remember finding someone who you thought you had things in common with just to find out that they were so very different than you? Remember feeling like you didn't know if you'd ever fit in?

That's where I am. As some of you loyal readers know, this journal has moved around a bit. It has evolved and downright changed sometimes. It went from
caringbridge to another blogger spot then merged with my family blog. It just never felt 100% right.

Then I started writing my book about Alex's life. The title of the book started out "Broken dreams" but in writing I realized that it wasn't about broken dreams at all, because when something breaks it's no longer useful, it's lost it's purpose. Alex's life and death have always been very useful. Him being born broken wasn't the end of the purpose of his life and his death wasn't either. It was a journey.....

So, the title of the book became "A Walk through the valley" one night. We did walk through the valley of the shadow of death in a very real way. But that walk THROUGH means we came out the other side, or at least that we have the ability to do so someday.

So here we are now in a new space. A space that feels very right with no agendas and no plans. Just living, dealing, and becoming the new me at my own pace. No censoring my feelings in fear of what people might think.

I'm Kat, my son is in heaven. I miss him terribly and some days I'm not sure how I got here or how I'll move on. Take me as I am.

The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want.He maketh me to lie down in green pastures:He leadeth me beside the still waters.He restoreth my soul:He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name' sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,I will fear no evil: For thou art with me;Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies;Thou annointest my head with oil; My cup runneth over.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,and I will dwell in the House of the Lord forever ~ The 23rd Psalm

Saturday, August 9, 2008

In a better place

I think I'm in a better place today. Some days those feelings just come on so strong and I just have to feel them and let them happen. Writing about them helps, helps me process and figure out what exactly I'm feeling because sometimes it's all a jumbled mess of anger, sadness, and fear.

I think I'm probably going to have those days forever. And that's the way it is. That's the life I lead now. All I can do is be stronger than the sadness, stronger than the fear and anger. All I can do remember where I came from in my faith and remember why I don't want to go back there.

Thanks Tawnia for the comment. I love footprints. That made me smile.

Friday, August 8, 2008

Alexander's photo slideshow

Is any of it real?

I'm having a really bad day. A day where you know what? I'm tired of telling everyone it's ok and that God loves us and all that bullsh*t. What the hell kind of God takes someone's child away? And he does this EVERY SINGLE DAY. Not a day goes by where somewhere in the world someone's precious child isn't ripped from their arms. What kind of God lets that happen?

Sometimes I try to convince myself that it's not God that does this, it's satan instead. But really, if God is so much stronger than satan to be able to cast him into hell for eternity, isn't he tough enough to stand up to him and say no to childhood death? And if he's not, is he really that powerful at all?

I read these blogs of people who have lost a child but just continue to worship God and at times I am in awe of their faith and at times I want to grab them by the head and shake them and ask them who they are kidding. Maybe God is just an excuse we hide behind when bad things happen so that we don't have to face reality. Maybe our little bitty psyche's can't bear the thought of never seeing our children again so we cling tightly to that story the pastor told us about heaven. I think this might be true because in reality the bible says that earthly people won't even matter to us when we get there, that we will simply be in awe of the presence of the lord. So why do we talk about seeing our children in heaven? It doesn't even make sense!

I try to beleive, I try to keep my faith. I try to understand but the big man upstairs doesn't seem to be giving me anything that I need to understand. I've asked for help, I've asked for answers. I haven't gotten any. Sometimes I think if there is a God that he has some twisted and sick sense of humor to sit and watch so much suffering. Even the most uncaring people in the world usually couldn't fathom watching a child suffer in a hospital room with his chest ripped open, or slowly die from cancer, yet God does it EVERY DAY! What the hell?! And then as parents we are suppose to thank him? We are suppose to worship him? Hey dude, thanks for making pain the only thing my child ever knew and then making sure the rest of us knew what pain was too.... how nice.

Today my faith is tested. I'm tired of praying to a God who never seems to answer.