Unveilled

The time has come to share another step in 'our' process.  A few of us had memorial tattoos done.  The first being my Dad. Shortly after Reece passed, he arranged to get his first tattoo ever! Which would be a portrait of Reece! He actually ended up getting another tattoo prior to this, I suppose to 'prepare' himself for what he was about to do. lol

The tattoo was done in Saskatoon at Tantrix Tattoo and Body Art by artist Mike Thompson-Hill.  The same tattoo artist probably didn't know that this was going to set off a both creative and meaningful connection between our famillies and his shop.

My girlfriend, Erin Mowat, got angel wings tattoo in memory of Reece and to symbolize their very special bond.  Grant's Mom, Kathy, got a tattoo on her wrist of 'Mr Sun" peaking out from behind a purple banner with "Reece" written on it.  I saw how these tattoos were great memorials to Reece and would be beautiful symbols to carrie with them.  However, I didn't feel a personal need to get a tattoo at the time (early on in the 'grief process').

As a year and then another passed, Grant talked more and more about getting a phoenix rising from ashes, as testament to his 'process'.  It showed how after losing Reece he had to pick himself up from nothing and continue on, and find continued purpose in life.  It seemed so fitting for him. 

Since we moved to our small town I had started planting various varieties of lillies and daisies. Generally attempting to stick to bright 'sunny' yellows and Barney purples and some hot pinks (all in honour of Reece).  Someone sent us a packet of SweetPea seeds. I planted them, and they grew beautifully. I was actually shocked, I rarely have success with growing things, let alone from seed. They were pink, and purple.
Reece's nickname was Sweetpea. 
Needless to say, I realized at somepoint that a flower tattoo would be in the future for me.  A flower to honour each of my beautiful girls.
I brought the idea to Mike and let him run with it. He designed the perfect piece ... HUGE mind you... (lol) but perfect :)

Tantrix owner Leanne Thompson-Hill, honoured Reece by creating a charity (Reece Ryde Memorial Tattoo Charity) where that Tantrix artists donate their creative efforts and time to provide grieving parents with a memorial tattoo.  Check out their website to see up-to-date tattoos that are helping parents move forward.

And in honour of my 'process', I will be unveiling a new blog soon as well! Something happier, something different....the journey continues!

Photo Courtesy of BurntBlack Photography

Cry a Little and Give Thanks

The worst thing and the best thing a grieving person can do, is drive alone in a car listening to the radio. 
Maybe this sounds ridiculous, maybe this sounds completely reasonable, I'm conflicted.
But here's the deal.

When you are a grieving person (in my case a grieving parent), the worst (aka hardest) thing to do is face your grief and allow it to envelop you.  You may (I have) live in constant fear that if given into, it may hold you in a death grip of it's own that you will never escape from.
At the same time, we walk a fine balance act.  Because, if you never make yourself vulnerable, and never allow yourself to be 'sad' to grieve, you will never move forward. You will never have a reasonable standard of 'quality of life'.   You will inevitably become consumed with avoiding your grief.

Today I had one of these moments- driving to work I was listening to CBC radio (OK I am now sounding officially old) and usually they have interesting and sometimes uplifting/funny stories.  Today wasn't one of those days.  I had been reminded the day before that today would be the 7th Anniversary of the disappearance of Tamra Keepness, the little girl from Regina, that vanished from her home.  A story that I would imagine kept most parents glued to newscasts for at least a year or so afterwards, waiting for updates and possible clues. However as time moves on, I know all too well, people forget.
Although there was brief mention of her, the story they discussed instead was the tragic tale of another little girl from Regina, now in Calgary. A little girl who beat the odds once, by having a heart transplant at the age of only 4 months. However, now she has cancer, a rare form affecting the soft tissues, which does not respond well to current treatments. Listening to her mother was literally gut-wrenching.  And I so desperately wanted to pull over and call every person I knew and get them to run to their radios, so they too could hear her talk about her daughter. 
She too is a grieving mother.  Although her daughter is still here physically, she knows her time is limited.  She sounded so hopeless and terrified and yet so brave and full of love.
I don't know this woman, but I can still hear her voice.  It had a desperation that only a grieving mother can know.  I wished so badly, that I could be there with her, offer some sort of comfort or encouragement.
Instead I've decided to write this, and encourage everyone I know to listen to her story and to hopefully appreciate their own circumstances a bit more.  And if you are grieving, to encourage you to spend a little time alone (not necessarily in  a vehicle) somewhere and allow yourself to grieve. Allow yourself to remember the one you lost.

Recovery and "Flashbacks"

We are happy to say that Gabrielle (our youngest, now 2) has now had her tonsils removed. She is a week post-op and is slowly improving. We hope that now that the ineffective glands are removed she'll be able to avoid anti-biotics!  Of course the other peripheral benefits are just as important to us as a family- the lessened visits to the Dr., no more Emergency Room visits at late hours, no more stress of missing work, no more worries that she will get so seriously run-down that she won't be able to fight-off infections or viruses...

No, finally we can see the light at the end of the tunnel as far as Gabrielle's health is concerned and honestly not a moment too soon.  I was reaching (had reached honestly) my breaking point.

In addition to the constant reminder of Reece as a result of having a sick little one, I carried the guilt of having to be a working parent and be away from her.  And when I did 'put her first' and had to miss work, I felt as though I was being judged for missing work.  The guilt and pressure from all sides has been mounting, making me feel as though I was fighting a losing battle at work, home and as a parent.  I'm more hopeful now than I was a week ago, and more hopeful than I was 2 months ago when I wrote the following excerpt (but did not publish at the time)...

Lately, perhaps the last 4 months or so I have been stuffing my grief. I finally confessed it to Grant the other day...


Our youngest has unfortunately suffered from what are basically "defective" tonsils. For her the last year (the entire 2nd year of her young life) has been a series of Drs visits and rounds of antibiotics.
All too often I find myself looking at Grant and saying "It's like Reecey all over again".
To complicate our already intensive feelings of fear and inadequacy in our parenting abilities, last winter she also fought Croup a number of times; and we have been worrying and waiting for that to hit again this winter, with her immune system run down from her many strep throat infections and colds.


In August we were able to book an appointment with an Ear, Nose and Throat Specialist (ENT) for the first week of Nov. In November we went to our appointment (conveniently with Gabby suffering from yet another case of strep throat). The ENT agreed ;quite readily that the tonsils needed to go, but he warned me that the wait could be 8 - 10 months.
Now here we are in Jan obviously with some time yet to go.
She has had quite a few bouts of strep since Nov, and had an ear infection last week. At that appointment our family Dr let us know we might have a surgery date for March BUT that it wasn't official until we get the letter from the ENT's office.
Her ear infection took a turn for the worse 2 days after starting antibiotics, when we would have expected to see improvement, she spiked a fever and cried from pain.
We went to the Emergency Dept at the hospital, where they treated the symptoms and upped the dosage of the antibiotics she was already on. 2 days later, the fever an pain were still there, so we returned. The Dr at that point ran a series of tests and started stronger antibiotics via an I.V.
That was yesterday. We had to return this morning for another dose.
The trip in, was what spawned this post.


This morning was the worst yet. It's difficult enough to have to go to the same hospital where we last held Reece. To be admitted in the same spot where we were once met by nurses who tried to soften the blow of what reality was about to hand us that morning Dec 27, 2007.
This morning it was just Gabs and I. Normally when we take her to the hospital both of us go. One to drive. One to sit next to her in the back seat, and monitor every little movement, breath, whimper or request.
Today I was on my own.
The radio turned up.
After losing Reece, I am never in a quiet vehicle. I've learned that the short 15-20 minute drive on the same highway that takes us to her grave, I cannot be in silence. I need to blast sounds, to keep the sound of my own thoughts at bay.
Today though, after leaving town and reaching 'cruising speed' I looked in the rear-view mirror to check Gabby's status in the back seat.
She was sleeping. Her soother had fallen out. She was still.
I turned down the radio so I could try listening for breath.
I couldn't hear anything over the normal road noise.


When I looked back at her, her eyes were closed and bluish, her face pale, her lips puffy from warmth and sleep. She looked exactly like Reece at her funeral.


I was torn- do I pull over and wake her? or just drive faster to get to the hospital where the people who are better qualified to take care of her are?


It was terrifying to say the least.


But it reminded me of my confession to Grant. That over the last few months, my grief has been growing, as I've been stuffing it away. It's been building and I've been staving-off the breakdowns. Avoidance- it's what I do.
But it was hard to avoid this, I was locked in a moving vehicle with what seemed like my Gabby and my dead daughter at the same time.


It was like the universe was telling me - LOOK AT HER, it CAN happen again, it WILL happen again!! You have NO control.


What I had confessed to Grant was that over the last 4 months or so, quite often I had been thinking about suicide. Not actually carrying it out. But just an image of myself having a way out. I think that my subconscious was needing an alternative to the only other options I have, which is to accept reality and face grief.
That Reece is gone and that life has gone on without her. That there will always be this empty spot between Aiden and Gabrielle.
And that I have no control over what happens to anyone, even my children. The ones that the universe has entrusted to me, to care for; yet reality is, I can't protect them to the extent I want too.
Gabrielle's constant illnesses have been literally a daily reminder of how fragile children are, and how little control you have over protecting them from the world.
So what have I learned about grief lately? Well... that it's never over. You truly cannot avoid it.

Why am I hopeful now? Well I had a reality check over the last week.  After many heart-to-hearts with Grant and with my Sister (who in-spite of her young age sometimes had great insight into 'life') I have a long term plan for our family, for our family and for my career.  I am working on keeping things that happen in day-to-day life in perspective. I also realized now that I have unrealistic expectations of others, that some people just are the way they are and not to take it personally if they treat you badly.

After also having a heart-to-heart with our family Dr (who has been a rock for all of us) I realize I'm not alone in my experience, that she knows many other people that have experienced exactly what I am now. 

And funny enough, a friend of ours called to talk to Grant one night about 'guy stuff', he's the last guy I would ever think would end up in my 'grief blog' but he said that (and I'll quote) "the grass is always greener on the other side, and there's assholes everywhere". 
It was exactly what I needed to hear on that day and he would never have known.  (Thanks Pat ;) )
But it's just one of those signs that's making me a believer.
That maybe there is a Creator and there's messages for you if you're listening.


If you know someone that has lost a child suddenly please refer them to SUDC, they have been a great support for both Grant and myself.

Tomorrow we have an appointment with an Immunologist. To look at why our youngest is continually sick with Strep throat infections.
My concern is that while fighting one of these Strep infections, her poor little immune system will be so run-down, so weak that if she contracts some other virus (like Croup- which she had a few times last winter) she will not be able to fight off the virus.

like Reece.

I told the Dr that treated Gabrielle most recently (for an ear infection, which was treated by I.V. antibiotics- which in my opinion is pretty extreme not to mention traumatic) that history was going to repeat itself. It was literally playing-out before our eyes. Our worst nightmare, all over again.

Why was no one coming to our rescue?
Why wasn't there a Dr, a Specialist, a Scientist, ANYONE, coming to our aide and saying "HEY, we hear you! We understand how perilous this is! We won't just throw you the everyday treatment and the minimum required attentiveness. We will protect your daughter. We will take care of your family!"

No. Don't be fooled by naivety and false-idols.
If you want your child to be protected, if you want your child's best interests looked after- you better plan to do it yourself.

Tonight I decided to head to this appointment with as much information I could possibly provide. The Immunologist is going to look at Reece's medical history and Gabrielle's. I told him I would bring immunization reports and my copy of the official autopsy findings.

I had not read the autopsy results.

It took about 7 months or so to get the results. I believe they are dated July 2008. It was torture waiting for that envelop to come to us in the mail. I had hoped it would find an answer. Put a name to whatever it was that took her away from me. Give me something to be angry at. Give me something to hate, instead of myself. At least for a moment.
But by the time it came, our Dr had already got a copy, and had summarized it in a few sentences for us. She said it was likely a virus, something unknown, Reece was already so sick... etc
So I never looked past the first page. Not past the first line honestly.

But tonight as I grabbed the pile of papers out of the plastic tote we have filled with Reece's keepsakes, I thought I should read it. Maybe there was something in there that I should know. Maybe there was something that would help me form some helpful questions for tomorrow's appointment.
I wasn't wrong. But I certainly wasn't prepared for the wave of sickening grief that came over me.
As I read through the first page, I realized that this person writing it, was very 'official', they were following a process which they probably did daily. And Reece was just another 'body'. Just another number.
To say it 'hurt' to hear the Coroner describe my baby, Reecey, in such a way would be too simple.
The Coroner has to describe every little detail. Of course, I understand this.
But some things hurt so horribly, I don't have the words to describe it.
The Coroner noted the clothing she was in. It was noted that her jammie pants were dirty.

I broke down in uncontrollable sobs at that point.

I remember holding her in the Emergency room, after the nurses wrapped her little body in a hospital blanket and gave her to me for the last time.

The last time I held my baby, she was in a hospital blanket. She looked like she was sleeping.

I remember thinking at some point, either at the hospital, or after, that her 'blankie' was dirty. Of course it was, she took it everywhere. And yes her jammies probably were dirty. She was a busy toddler, into everything.

I had never read this report. But it had always bothered me that she may have looked untidy. Honestly it's always in the back of my mind when we go to the Dr now with Gabrielle.

I've never told anyone this.

But before we go to the Emergency with Gabrielle I always make a mental note of what she is wearing. I guess it's always in the back of my mind, what if this is the last outfit she is in. As if a yogurt spot on a comfy shirt, is somehow a black mark on my parenting. But somehow, it makes me question - will they think I don't love her if she's wearing old pajamas instead of a cute matching outfit?

I'm sure this all sounds ridiculous to some people. But to me I have always worried what people thought. I worry that if I go to the Dr too much, someone will think I'm a hypochondriac and therefore not a fit parent. If I don't go, then I'm neglectful. It's a quandary, and I'm continually trapped in it.

Needless to say, to have it pointed out, officially, on a report, by a stranger, that my baby had dirty jammie pants on, and no shirt (they cut it or took it off her at some point)... it hurt to hear it.
I don't want strangers to pass judgement on my level of love or commitment to my daughter. And really I shouldn't care. But I do. It's what I do, it's who I am. It's the way my mind works I suppose.

But as I said earlier, I wasn't wrong to think that there may be something in the autopsy report that may be helpful for Gabrielle's appointment tomorrow. There wasn't a lot of info in there but I do have questions. The finding was that she died of 'sepsis'. But how she got to that point, or what put her at perhaps a higher risk of getting to the point of being that sick, is what we need to know, in order to protect Gabrielle.

Hopefully answers will be provided sooner rather than later.

Fumbling Towards Something

Lately I've been fumbling through. I thank the universe (and Reece) for bringing Gabby to us. She was a bright light in our dark existence to be sure. But now that she has surpassed Reece in age, which I was reminded a few days ago, I have lost again.

Until recently we could reminisce as if Reece were still in the room. Laugh about her milestones, compare her linguistic prowess to Gabrielle's pirate-like baby-lingo, and see glimmers of Reece's impish ways through Gabby's dare-devilish physicality. It's what parents do. Compare one child to another, and relish the differences, adore their uniqueness. Excite in what will come, and is yet to compare.

There's nothing now.

Reece is gone. Her time cut short at only 20 months.

I remember her as being so much more, than just 20 months. She had a 'way of knowing' that was beyond her.

But I'll never know who she would have become.

And again I count my losses. They seem to add up lately. One after another.

Maybe it's the time of year, that makes it difficult, but lately she is constantly on my mind.

Gabrielle turns 2 in a month. Normally I'd be planning, excited, looking forward to the occasion and bringing people together.

But now, it's all I can do not to cry all day at work. The mere glimpse of a thought of Gabby's birthday makes me sad. A picture of her and Aiden on my computer screen, serves as just another painful reminder that there is a 3rd child missing from the trio that should have been.

Christmas this year will be much like the year we lost her. She and Gabby so close in age, it will be hard not to be consumed with thoughts of her, and it will take everything in me to not let my grief overshadow the seasons festivities for the girls.

I already feel a pressure to 'keep up appearances' for everyone else starting and we are still months away from Christmas. Gabby was a great distraction while it lasted, but I suppose I knew all along that eventually I'd have to face facts- everyone moves on,

no matter how hard you dig in your heels.

It's what I've always done. Find distractions to focus on, rather than dealing with what is in front of me.

I am trying desperately not to give in to my strong desire to completely break with tradition this year and do something different. I suppose to avoid the impending 'performance' I'll have to put on, for family and friends, neighbours and colleagues. That "yay, great ! It's the holidays. Grrrreat an entire week off " to sit at home and remember Reece isn't here to share it with us.

Maybe I'll find some wisdom in some readings this week. Until then, I'll guess just keep fumbling.

The reinvention of Mom.
Or grasping at straws……… mid life crisis or mid-mania survival….
It could be many things, this latest phase I have fallen into. But none the less, here I am.
As far as we’ve come in our grieving process, I am still very much, stuck.
I’ve been filled with pure joy, adding Gabs (Gabrielle that is) to our family. And with high hopes and positive thoughts I started a brand new job at the end of my maternity leave; with a huge organization, with many future possibilities. Perhaps I could upgrade my education over the years, or bump around the organization trying new things, really there were a lot of options.
However, after a number of months I’ve realized I am doing nothing more than treading water.
Putting in time, for a huge organization that is just that… a HUGE organization. I was a number. A number at the bottom.
I’ve recently come to the realization that my socialization has really screwed me over. A daughter of the modern ages, I’ve been taught I can do anything boys can do, AND all that my mother did.
Having never really know who I was or what I wanted I only clung to one truth.
I wanted a family. A family that included a cozy home, with children, relatives and friends we called relatives that came and went freely.
A bit idealistic to be sure but not entirely out of reach. Not beyond reality. I wasn’t dreaming of being an astronaut or brain-surgeon (I hate math).
Unfortunately reality being what it is, girls have to bend and break their daydreams to fit reality.
Where am I going with this you wonder?
I’ve decided that although I may never find a true career, that makes me jump out of bed in the morning and desire to work long days; at least I can make the rest of my life extra meaningful and fulfilling to make up the difference.
Which brings me to SRDL.
What is God’s name is SRDL? What is MummyAnge up to now?
WELL! I believe I have found my tribe. At the very least I’ve had an epiphany!
SRDL stands for Saskatoon Roller Derby League. Yes, roller, as in roller-skates; and, no, I have never done this before. Although I had looked into it a few years ago I was unsuccessful in finding any information about the local league. As happenstance would have it, at a Ladies Night at the local Dundurn bar, a woman announced that this league did in fact exist and we were welcome to come on out and try.
First, if you know me, and this is the first you are hearing of this, you are likely shocked. I am not athletic by any stretch of the imagination. In addition, to go try something new, potentially (STRONG potential) to embarrass and injure myself, goes against everything my anxiety-prone personality would typically allow. But I’m doing it.
I decided I needed something for me; something that my daughters can respect and perhaps aspire to. Something to stop my mind from thinking about all the issues we are having at home, with grief, with challenges with our children, with work, with council and community commitments and on and on.
I feel myself mesmerized by the skill, grace and confidence of the senior members of the SRDL. It's inspiring, and intimidating. I imagine in those moments of awe, I'm feeling what Reece felt when she'd watch kids on Barney sing & dance or hear a piano playing- completely absorbed in the moment and wondering "how can I do that?".
My hope is that by entering into a new and positive ‘obsession’ I can honor Reece by being a better mom, partner and person.

What you can't know

Things are not always this bad...however, truth be told- it's always somewhere just under the surface. Grieving the loss of a child, is a pain that lays in wait. Waiting for your weakest, quietest moments. And in those times, when I've been run down, tired, fed up with the day-to-day - it takes hold.
This is what I think about in those moments:


You can't know the pain that makes me sick to my stomach, late at night when the house is quiet and I am struck, with the very real fear that I may forget her smell.

You can't know what I grieve for late at night, when my girls sleep and I am terrified someone's God will steal them too.

You can't know the terror I feel late at night, when I realize that the world around me has moved on, and never remembers her, and who she'd be right now, what she'd be doing, how she'd be playing, how she would be loving all of us.

You can't know what it is to loose the star of the show, the light of my life, my reason for being.

You can't know this pain. Mother Nature will not allow it. It runs too deep. Your world would stop. You wouldn't forget.

You can't know how alone this is, and how much on these nights, I would give everything to be with her for just one moment.


Just one.

And as much as I beg and plead for that one moment, I can't have it.

I feel her slipping further away and there is nothing I can do. Nothing you can say.

Because you can't know.

A Complaint Free World

I read today; an idea.
What if THIS is heaven?
I thought about this briefly and my first instinct was to panic a bit about how little time I may have here... and also the thought of - "then what"?
The question came from a book I've been reading about positive thought. The author was thinking aloud about the idea that life is what you make it.
Which I find refreshing considering the source. The author from what I understand is a preacher from a Christian Church in the United States. And I felt comforted, I suppose, that even someone with a strong belief system still questions the 'hear after'; and basically suggests "you better make this life really great, cause this could be all you have".
I've had a difficult time being positive since losing Reece. It certainly would be difficult for me to accept that this life I have had, has been my self-created version of heaven.
As far as I'm concerned, the past couple years have held more heart ache and pain then any version of hell I'd ever imagined.
After thinking a bit more I called my mother-in-law to come sit with the kids while I went to sit with Reece at the cemetery.
It's the most beautiful day.
Sunny, breezy and clear.
Her cemetery is the ultimate 'prairie experience'- a wide open expanse, defined by a hedge and surrounded by farmland. Nothing but blue sky going on and on forever.
There are a dozen or so pink roses in her vase on the monument. They all hang their head. As if they too feel as gutted and empty as I do in that moment.
When I first sat down (after first feeling offended by the state of the grass and large dandilions gone to seed) I intended on writing.
But instead I placed some small bright-yellow daisy-like flowers in with the sad pink roses.
A stark contrast.
The symbolism was not lost on me.
Reece was the sun in my life.
I cried and for the first time since I was a child I spoke to 'God'. I asked for a sign. Something tangible.
Some way of knowing that I'll see her again.
That 'this' isn't IT.
My thoughts turned immediately to Gabby and I thought perhaps that, that is my only sign. Maybe the sign that things will get better is that I am still here, despite my many pleas for God to take me too; so I could be with her.
I am still here and therefore, I must make it better myself.

Now, as I type this a few weeks removed from when I wrote it originally, I'm left to still wonder, what if this is it- I'm empowered now to make 'THIS" better but have not given up the small hope that there is something after this world.

reality strikes

re-typed from a journal entry written Sunday May 31.

It's a sunny day. 12 noon. The town is buzzing with activity. Out my breezy bedroom curtain I can hear Aiden running around the house, the porch door banging in the wind, a few lawn mowers working away, our dog's collar tags jingling as he runs through our yard. I lay on my bed tears streaming watching Gabby sleep on my bed.
Again today reality hit me. Reminding me of what I have lost. Kathy- Grant's Mom, who lives a block away found a box of Reece's clothing and other items (a Dora doll etc) in her garage. Grant and I looked through it quickly, most of it was new clothes that she had not worn yet. Most still had the tags on. I could barely remember the items. But there was a pair of light blue jeans and a light aqua blue t-shirt, that I thought I could remember her wearing. I often dressed her in blues because of her amazing blue eyes- like nothing I'd seen before. Like she could see through you.
In the faint hope of holding on to her in some small way I smelled the shirt.

I can barely write this as I now know how painful it was in that moment, and is now, to realize her smell was not on that shirt. Then I cried with the realization that all trace of her existence here in our home here in our world has been erased by time. I can barely remember her smell.

Right now I look at Gabby and with that I could hold her the way I would hold Reece. Her head nestled into my neck her hand on my shoulder, with her blankie in hand....
I know there's no use.
It's not the same.
I'll never have that back.
I told Grant this morning that I had done such a good job keeping it 'together' over the past month but now faced with another reminder of what we've lost I can't fake my happiness, my strength or my 'normalcy' today.
Today I am weak.
I am sad.
I am angry.
I am grieving.

Motherhood is a blessing. And a curse.
Like the famous quote says: becoming a mother is to forever thereafter watch your heart walk around outside of your body.
This is true.

As our finale fundraiser for the Reece Ryde Memorial Park Fund we are selling tickets to a Mother's Day Buffet supper to be held on Sunday May 10th @ 5 pm at the Dakota Dunes Casino. Tickets are $15/person and you must of course be over 19 to attend. We will be giving out a couple door prizes. The Grand prize being the signed Anika Soremstan tour golf bag donated by Callaway. This is a valuable prize as Anika has now retired from the sport!

Please contact our friends/family or email or call us @ home to get tickets. What better way to thank your mom for a job well done- than a great supper! And skip the line-ups at the busy restaurants!

Where We Stand

This is just a quick note, for all our friends, family and blog followers :) To let you know just where we are with regard to the Park development and Reece Ryde Memorial Park Fund.
Once the ground thaws, we have one small addition to make to the main play structure. All equipment has been paid for and is in place. We currently have a few golf-related items that were generously donated last year, that we will be raffling off (tickets will be ready to go in March- see sidebar for more info). I expect to meet with volunteers in Spring to discuss what will go in the park for landscaping items. This will largely be decided by the school, as they have already met with a landscaper last year for their own purposes of improving the look of the elementary school grounds. I believe she provided them with a list of appropriate plants, trees and shrubs that would do well in our climate and soil. After the landscaping/planting etc is complete, I would assume we will have some funds left over.
There's been much debate on what to do with the remaining funds. Initially we had hoped to be able to purchase a piece of equipment or pay for some kind of training (if wanted) for the Dundurn and Area's First Responder's however, it seems the only thing they are in need of is a new fire hall :) and now perhaps a new firetruck, from what I overheard at the last Town Council meeting... unfortunately we won't have THAT much left over ;) ha
Most importantly the money must be spent in a way that improves the lives of preschool children in Dundurn. That has always been the goal.
If you have any suggestions please do not hesitate to contact us! And we will keep you posted on any further developments! Hope we see you in the park :)

Live in the Moment

Finally! I think I am learning to live in the moment.
I've found I've always 'wished' my time away. Always focusing on what was to come and not taking the effort to focus on today.
This was especially true for the time I spent with our girls when they were babies.
When they were newborns, I wished for them to be a couple months old, so they would be sleeping through the nights and beginning to be more 'interactive'. Then when they were a few months old, looking forward to when they would start solid foods, and start 'talking'.
I realize now, I was wishing away my precious time with them. Although I of course have fond memories of all of those stages with the Aiden and Reece, I don't think that I really took the time each day to appreciate it for what it was.
Thankfully, whether it is due to my age, or just circumstances being what they are, I'm truly enjoying each and everyday with Gabby, and taking it all in. I have caught myself thinking and saying that I don't want her grow up! That I'm enjoying our time together. I love our middle of the night feedings and cuddles. I often find myself frozen in a snuggle long after her bottle has been finished! And I think, "It's late! I should go to bed!" but I can't move! I just want to listen to her little baby breathing and her self-soothing sighs she makes.
This 'living in the now' thing is a hard change for me to make. I often am tempted to take on projects and jobs that I find interesting, without initially realizing it will take time away from what is important to focus on TODAY. Now that I realize I do this, I'm hoping that I'll now be able to recognize when I'm ABOUT to do it. But this comes with maturity and practice I suppose.
I'm thankful that although, some lessons are learned late in life, they are not learned too late.
I'm posting a video Grant took of Gabby and I enjoying some time together the other day. She has been trying so very very hard to communicate with us. Yesterday while watching the Superbowl with her Daddy, she copied some of his "oohs". A proud moment for Daddy :)



I added the following video the day after the original post. Gabby loves talking with her Dad!

Painting in the rain

For a moment imagine yourself sitting at an easel, with paints in hand, ready to paint a dreamy multicoloured landscape. But with each brush stroke the clouds roll closer and rain drops begin to fall onto your page. You move your paint around to try to mask the water drops but the more you paint the harder it rains.

That is how I would describe grieving. At least mine. At least in this moment.

Although I think of Reece all the time. I can keep the moments of complete and overwhelming despair away for days at a time. But when that grief creeps up it is all-encompassing and cannot be ignored. It's like you are at day one again. The pain is as deep as the moment we were told she was not coming back.

Thanks to the new baby I can try to focus 'the now' and on happy times ahead. But unfortunately when imagining those happy memories we will make in future, I think of Reece and what she is missing, and what we are missing not having her here. I guess that is what makes the loss of a child so hard. You also grieve what would have been.

When we were picking names for the new baby the popular choice by all family and friends was "Grace" (we knew we were having a girl). It seemed fitting, but I was not sold on it.
A day or so before the baby made her debut the name 'Gabrielle' popped into my head. Grant seemed to like it so we added it to the running list.

After the baby was born, Grant and I had a brief moment alone in the surgery recovery room. I said "We need to name this baby!". We both thought quietly for a moment, and I said, 'Gabrielle'. And Grant looked at me and said he had been thinking the same thing. I said to him, that I didn't 'know why, but something about it sounded stronger than Grace'. I suppose with her being early and the possibility of the hospital sending her to Calgary without us for a NICU placement, I guess subconsciously I figured she needed all the strength she could get...

What is eery about this, is although we took much time and research naming our first 2 girls, we were stuck for a name this time and all I knew was that Gabrielle was the feminie form of Gabriel.

My mother-in-law, Isabelle, looked up the meaning, and fantasticly enough Gabrielle meant 'valiant warrior' or something close to that. I just recently looked it up and a common meaning is "hero of God" and "God's messenger".

After being home with baby a couple weeks I heard another eerie story about her name. I had met Grant at the mall, he walked me to the car and told me a story he heard that day from a friend and co-worker at the school. It was a story of loss, this friend had lost their mother. Afterwards I guess they had done some reading about angels etc, because she told Grant that when she heard we named the new baby Gabrielle she cried, because the archangel Gabriel, is the angel that helps children into heaven. She may have thought we knew this previously but we didn't!! Needless to say as soon as those words came out of Grant's mouth I broke down crying in the parking lot. It was so amazing and almost supernatural.

Some people may not think there is a connection between your name and who you are in personality etc. But for us we've seen a connection for all our girls. First after having a scary medical emergency during my pregnancy with Aiden we knew her name meaning 'little fire' would suit her well, as she was always strong and unwavering during the emergency. She was perfectly healthy and now as an older kid, is very stubborn and independent.
Reece means 'enthusiastic' and anyone that knew her can tell you that is the best way to describe her, as she was always friendly, interested, and would try to find ways to entertain herself and others one her own.
So when we picked Gabrielle, we were hoping that the sense of 'strength' I felt in that name would help Gabrielle overcome her 'preemie issues', it did... and finding out the connection to the archangel Gabriel and his connection to children (and therefore Reece) hints to me that there are other 'forces' at work in this world.
At least I hope there is.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gabriel

http://www.luckymojo.com/archangelgabriel.html

http://www.sarahsarchangels.com/gabriel.html

New Addition

This week has been a whirlwind so far. But luckily in a positive and healing way!
We officially have all the items in the park paid-in-full! So, with the funds we have left and perhaps yet to receive/raise we will beautify and enhance the park for the little ones in Dundurn.
You might have thought by the title of the blog 'new addition' that we bought another fun item for the kids to play with in the park- but no! We actually welcomed 'our' new addition - Gabrielle Cassandra Ryde- to our family Monday November 17th, around supper time!
As we have been overwhelmed with calls, emails, Facebook messages etc etc asking 'how things went', I thought I'd write it once and save myself some energy.

Here's how it went:

'It' - the journey to having Gabrielle, as it were, began last week Sunday. When I went to the hospital with contractions (2nd day in a row). Was told they weren't 'doing' anything (physically) - just driving me crazy :) And to go home and wait some more.
THEN, this Sunday I went to be around 10 p.m. and shortly after those very same contractions came and went through the night, every 1/2 hour to every 15 minutes.
In the a.m. I counted them, coming closer together, with the same level of mild intensity, but not going away. Grant and I had an appointment at the Mall in the a.m. (9) so after taking Aiden to the sitter I headed to the city, and Grant was already in the city at school.
We joked about 'Murphy's Law' that morning, and I left my hospital bag AND camera at home, thinking we did want to have the baby but if we showed up 'prepared to stay' we'd be turned away.
...it worked!
After our appointment (and freaking out our banker! who was worried I might go into full on labour in her office! ha ha), we headed to the hospital.

With a mix of excitement, worry, happiness and great expectations we walked into emergency. While waiting to be 'processed' it hit me suddenly where we were, the last place I held my precious Reece. I looked around and behind me was the room, we were herded into upon our arrival the Emerg. when we followed the ambulance to the city that awful morning. I started to cry, but quickly looked to Grant, hoping that he too, wasn't in the same place emotionally and could be a distraction or source of strength. Luckily he was, he redirected my thoughts unto the task at hand and quickly we were through the processing and upstairs in the maternity ward hooked up to a fetal monitor (my favourite machine in the world) watching my contractions come and go.
I was 2 cm a resident told me, and so, the waiting game began. Drs were hoping the contractions would stop and we could get a few more days out of the pregnancy, as having a baby at 36 weeks, although considered full term, is not ideal.
So we waited a few more hours, and then a few more. Nothing changed other than the contractions became a bit more intense near the end.
We had a c-section around 6:30 or so.
We held our breath waiting to hear that first cry, and heard a few little noises but not any full-on screams.
Turned out that as a result of being a c-section baby and perhaps because she was a little early, she was very mucousy and needed a little extra oxygen as breathing on her own was not getting enough oxygen into her blood.
She would need to be watched and therefore would need to be in the NICU.

Here's where the drama begins...

The Saskatoon RUH NICU was full. No room at the Inn. NO VACANCY.
As were Regina and Edmonton.
We were told that she would need to be flown to Calgary with 2 nurses and MAYBE, if there was room in the plane, her Dad!
Obviously we were scared to death to say the least.
After about an hour, a miracle happened.
A NICU baby had graduated into the regular nursery! And there was room for our little one.
Ironicly enough, the very next day, when I went to see her for the first time in NICU we were told she was going to the regular nursery, and was just a little 'pukey' when she ate.

Within 24 hours she was just fine. Small, mind you, but fine.

That was Tuesday a.m.

Yesterday, after they ran standard tests and did a billirubin test to see how bad her jaundice was (it's minimal so far), we were given the go ahead to go home that evening!

And here we are.


Introducing:
Gabrielle Cassandra Ryde
Weight: 6lbs 10oz
Length: 52 cm (20.5 inches)

With Each Step Forward

I'm guessing that by now, people (in general) would be expecting that my grief would be somewhat lessened being that is has been almost 11 months since we lost Reece.

I sit watching the cursor blink, and I'm not entirely sure how to word my thoughts on this contemplation.

I know I had hoped that at sometime I would be blessed with some sort of enlightenment, a moment of bright light and a weight lifted from my heart. Perhaps a vision or dream, that would make me feel 'better', and maybe even convince me of an enchanted afterlife where our Reecey is playing and watching over us in a blissful happiness that could never have been attained here on earth.

But I can't lie. I've had none of this. In fact, for me I think everything is just as it was the morning I lost her.

Certainly, we, I, go about our days, weeks, months. Planning ahead. Trudging through. Towards what I don't know. The calendar keeps moving forward and yet part of us is still stuck in the past.

For some reason when Reece was here I had a fairly clear picture of where life would lead me, and us as a family. I had ideas of where I wanted to go for a career. What I had hoped to see our girls get involved in. What I hoped to see Grant aspire to in his career, and how we would all share in that as a family...

but now

everything went blank December 27th.

Maybe because this year didn't really happen for us. It's like 2008 did not exist. This year was dedicated to Reece and her memory, building a park, Grant busy with a new steady job, but still not 'permanent', Aiden dealing with her anxieties and adjusting to school, and me fumbling through work days, one just like the other, attempting to move us forward out of this rut with a pregnancy, which will soon be over....

then what?

Halloween came this year as always. I was less excited than usual perhaps because it took all the energy I had to try to be excited and not think about how I had looked so forward to last Halloween, when Reece was a lobster and Aiden was Snow White (for the 3rd year in a row!).

Last year, I had left my job with the City to, I suppose, force myself to make a career choice. To find something to pursue as a true 'career'. I was in the middle of an exciting journey. Our family was doing well. Reece hadn't had many ear infections, her health seemed to be turning around. She had less eczema outbreaks, and Aiden was coming into her own. We were in a new community, making friends and everything was full of promise. Grant was finding success and positive feedback from his temp work, which gave us much hope for the year.

We had so much to be thankful for.

This Halloween, we had decided to have a couple friends over, just as adults, dress up and have a few laughs. We didn't realize how hard this 'fun' time was going to be.

It was of course a Friday. Grant got home exhausted from a week of dealing with apathetic teens, running around, coaching etc etc I was wore out from yet another sleepless week, and a long day of being very uncomfortable.

We sat and cried together for a bit. The realization of how things looked before and how they were now, and perhaps scared and unsure of what the future holds hit us, I suppose.

Luckily it was too late to cancel the party. I told Grant it's not going to get easier for us, so we have to just keep going. I said it would be good 'practice' for Christmas. We just have to 'get through it'.

I know it was harder for him. I don't allow myself much time to think about our loss, because I'm pregnant, I can focus completely on this new person, and even if I tried not to, her pushes and kicks force my train of thought her way. Grant does not have that distraction.

We are in two different places right now in our grieving, that is for sure.

I suppose I should re-word that, to be truthful, he is grieving and I am doing everything I can not to.

We had 'family' pictures done a few weeks ago. I wanted this done for a few reasons, one to document the fact that I was pregnant (as not much evidence exists of the fact I had 2 other babies). Also, to get Aiden geared up and excited about her role as the big sister, and also, perhaps to show this baby that we were excited about her arrival before she got here.

I felt bad though, about doing the pictures. Our first ones without Reece. It seems unfair to call them 'family' pictures without her included.
I know it upset Grant as well.
He looks at the pictures and says he's happy with how they turned out... but there is such a pain in his eyes that it almost scares me.
I worry that he won't allow himself to completely open up his heart to this new baby. To maybe protect himself from getting hurt again, or to somehow 'honor' Reece... it's complicated and the mind works in different ways.

Probably a silly worry as anyone the knows him, knows he was meant to be a dad. It's a role that comes natural to him, whether he'd admit it or not. It was part of what drew me to him when we met. Babies (literally little babies) and kids of varying ages are drawn to him. I've witnessed a baby (Rach's daughter Emma) at about 8 mths old crying, not wanting to be comforted by her own grandparents, crawl over to Grant, without him saying a word, and at that time a complete stranger to her; put her arms up and cuddle on his shoulder. The look on her Grandparents faces was priceless.

But he is in a place right now that I wish I could help him out of. And I just hope he doesn't grow to resent me for trying for force us forward but adding this new baby into our family.
God knows that I could never replace or replicate Reece. She was my soulmate and idol. I don't expect to ever have that same connection again.
But we need to somehow keep putting one foot in front of the other, and hope that the pieces of our lives that have been jumbled up, will somehow reform and we'll have a picture of the future again.
A different picture, but at least something to look at.

That Time of Year Again

Last blog, I had succumbed to the virus making it's rounds in Saskatoon (thanks Grant!) and now just when I thought we were safe, Aiden has caught it. Poor kid, her eyes glazed, no energy, no appetite, sore throat (which I am hoping is just part of the virus and not the beginnings of strep in addition to this cold!) stuffy nose and cough. She said this morning "I'm not moving off this couch!". This was her response to my suggestion that we go see the family Dr. to get some advice on the situation. Funny how her attitude was basically a reflection of how I am feeling now!

This weekend for most people was a weekend to relax, watch some football and hockey, visit with family and gorge on turkey dinners and pumpkin desserts. For our family, we did manage to fit in one family supper on Sunday which was fantastic, but the rest of the weekend was filled by the sound of the clock ticking down to various deadlines Grant and I have.
For example, with Grant's teaching comes hours of marking/planning, between marking he was trying to fit in chores such as oil changes, yard work for his Gramma, recycling, and taking care of the 'baby' countdown chores, like setting up the crib, moving dressers from one floor to another, re-organizing the baby room (which he decided last night, needs to moved around AGAIN due to poor heating in that room). Aiden and I tried to fit in crafts, decorating for Halloween, catching up on 2 weeks of laundry :( , sorting and organizing bags of baby clothes.

I can safely say that Grant and I both were looking forward to going to work today for a rest! haha
However, I'm at home with Aiden and neither of us has much energy to do anything more than our one quick outing to the family store to load up on popsicles for her throat. We have been hard at work pinning down couches, watching YTV and Hannah Montana, and catering to our very annoying dog that thinks were are here only to let him in and outdoors every 10 minutes just for kicks.
I can only imagine things are going to get crazier as the weeks pass and Christmas gets closer. I've forewarned all relatives that we (or at least I) plan to do absolutely nothing over the Christmas season this year. However, it's going to be very difficult to fight the urge not to send out 100 Christmas cards and bake like I'm feeding the entire military. Thankfully, this ol' body has been pretty good at signaling to me when I've reached my limit on 'running around'.
For obvious reasons Christmas will be difficult this year, and I almost dread getting together with family as last years Christmas memories are still so fresh. All of us were together, watching Aiden and Reece enjoy their various presents. Aiden making her Uncle Steve and Auntie Vanessa play Polly Pocket, and Reece stealing Gramma Isabelle's fancy animal print high heeled boots, determined to walk around the living room to show them off, eventually giving in to accepting some assistance from Gramma Kathy. Christmas Day relaxing at my Mum & Dad's, cuddling with Reece and then making a trip to emergency because her ear infections were back...

Needless to say we will be grateful to have the positive distraction of a new baby and breaking tradition can always be a good thing too.

Speaking of distractions- Halloween is my favourite time of year. It's a time that is a celebration of creativity and fun! I know many people will remember from last year, that Reecey was a lobster, it was a hit costume everywhere she went! And she thought it was pretty great.
This year Aiden has been a wonderful help in creating and picking out various decor for the house. See below - some of our Halloween decor so far!!

Just a re-post

Cold & flu season seems to have come early this year. Unfortunately for us it has hit our house. And as the pattern goes, when my defences are down, the sadness creeps in and takes over.
So needless to say, a day in bed yesterday led to a teary call to Grant at the school-day's end asking him to pick up flowers for Reece and for him to come home and take me to her.

I was laying in bed, thinking of my 'letter to Reece' homework that was assigned to me by my therapist months and months ago. That I have not been able to write. I've been thinking of it more often now, and almost felt like I could write it. But my mind swirls with guilt and regrets, and that letter becomes a rambling novel. Regrets that I will never see Reece and Aiden grow together as sisters, and see what her interests would have been. They were such a perfect match. Aiden very independent, stubborn, a leader and bossy. Reece also happily independent, but always admiring her big sister and enjoying her time with her, but never 'following' her. She was happy to go about her own 'business', but was very happy when her sister included her in play. It was such a beautiful balance between the two girls. Reece always seemed to play the role that whomever, was with her in that moment, needed.

I was the one who put her to bed every night. It was our ritual. I would carry her to her room. She would have her 'suzy' (pacifier) and her blankie. I would stand by her crib for a few moments rocking, hugging and kissing her. Then I would always say "you know mummy loves you? You're mummy's angel baby!" Then I would lay her in her crib. Sometimes she would respond with a little grunt, as if to say 'uh huh'. Then most but not all nights, we would play a little game, where if she did her little 'uh' grunt I would repeat it as I left the room, and then she would do so in return. We would go back and forth until we could no longer hear each other.

Worries crept in yesterday that what if this baby I am carrying now is that same personality type as Aiden. They would inevitably clash. Maybe they would both grow to resent me for creating this new family situation, one mad that the new baby sister is not like Reece, and the other resentful that she was brought into a situation where she would always be compared and never live up to that 'standard' set by a sister she never knew. I know this is out of my hands, what will be will be. However, this again is something I feel guilty about.

These (I think) are a mix of things that a grieving mother may likely 'normally' feel in this same situation as well, mixed with the way my mind works having anxiety to begin with. I was told once by the Dr. I first saw about my anxiety, that even if I didn't have 'anxiety', I'd probably be a 'worrier' .

Anyway, as I gained some composure, late last night I thought of some clips we have of Reece being Reece. Forever the entertainer. Reminding me SO much of Howie Mandel. I think because I remember hearing a story about him as a grade 8 kid calling various contracting companies pretending to be the Principal of his school, taking tenders on a brand new construction on the school property. As contractors started showing up on school grounds taking measurements, the Principal went out to investigate. The contractors would say "Nice to meet you, you must be the Principal Mr. Mandel!!)
Needless to say his parents were called in and he got into a bit of trouble.
I however, being a one-time middle years teacher, found this amazingly brilliant, and completely hilarious!! I could never get mad at a kid THAT creative!
This was something I saw in Reece. Her silly antics, that she would come up with on her own, always shocked me and was something that I was so excited to see where it led. We always joked that her college fund we had set up was going to be used either for Acting school or bail :)

She left us in stitches many times over.
So I thought I would re-post one of my favourite clips of her. see below:

Park Development

Here are the latest pictures of the park, as you can see it is 'coming along'. This week we'll smooth out the pea gravel a bit more, and add some if/where needed. As well, as hanging the baby swings! (I can't wait to use those next summer!) Just click to see the picture in larger detail!

Park build weekend.

Here's a pic of the park being built. It now has pea gravel in heaps ready to be pushed around! Then we can put the baby swings in and hopefully Blue Imp will eventually send us the 'back ordered' part for the main structure (as Tic Tac Toe board).

We will be putting up the fence around the park likely in a week or two. And in a couple weekends there will also be a 'work bee' to install the outdoor ice rink directly behind the park! The kids are lucky this year! 2 new developments just for them!

Surprisingly, I've heard there are couple people that are less than happy about the park. I find this terribly disappointing. I can't understand why someone wouldn't want a park for the littlest people in our community. In fact, apparently they would prefer to see the spot stay completely empty- as it was, with 2 flowers pots and 2 old benches.

Yeah... I don't get it.

I think this bothers me so much because I feel like they don't care about Reece. I take it personally and I suppose I shouldn't. However, I'm not going to make apologies for feeling the way I do. I'm Reecey's mom and stupid, selfish, ignorant people, with whacked out personal agendas (like trying to stop progress), tick me off.
This is my baby's park and it will bring lots of giggles and happiness to the littlest (AND most IMPORTANT people) in our community.

I had hoped to have they're ('they' being these old guys that are crabbing about the park) support and work together to make the spot not only USEFUL but also beautiful, with their input about what types of plants, trees and flowers to put around the park... guess that won't be happening.

I posted this without Grant editing it, so I'll probably get into trouble for being so honest about this, but it's been REALLY ticking me off!!

Build week!!

It's here! Build weekend. The construction started this week with the Town (thanks Trevor & Sam) excavating the site for us.
I'm attaching a video (it's quick!) so that everyone can see where the park is going and what it's looking like right now. We also have more equipment not laying out, in case people are wondering... 'gee that doesn't look like much stuff!!"
Please also let others know the fundraising IS NOT OVER!! Some of our expenses were under-estimated and we definitely need to continue our fundraising through September (as planned, however with a greater 'push'!) Thanks to Rach & friends in Athabasca, AB for also doing a Home & Gift party it should help us a lot!.
I am also hosting a Home & Gift party on Sept 14th (Sunday from 1-4) at 215 Carson St in Dundurn, however if you can't make it I can still get you catalogues (there's 2! the reg. housewares one and also the Christmas catalogue is available now!!)
30% of regular sales go to the park. I'm hoping that we can raise about $1000 for the park. This should hopefully get us in the clear! We had also hoped to be able to purchase trees, shrubs, planters and plants but that may have to wait until next year and perhaps another 1950's theme dance in the Spring!
This week has been intensely stressful, much more so than Grant and I had expected. Grant of course is now full-time teaching, no longer a 'fill-in' teacher, and is experiencing all those 'first year teacher' joys! (committees, extra curricular, planning, meetings, kids... and on and on). Can't say I miss any of that, well if I could just get paid for the kids & extra curricular and skip all the rest... :) but I digress...
...some mix-ups with missing parts in our order, finding out we're going to be moving/spreading (and paying for!) 2x the amount of pea gravel as first thought, AND having some equipment show up 1 day earlier than expected AND trying to find some men in town in the middle of the day to help unload it!! (good luck!!)
But just as I began to stress, our town proves it rocks yet again and just gets it done when it needs to get done! BIG THANKS to the students and staff at Dundurn Elementary School. Who got all the equipment unloaded safely! Hope we see all of you at the party on Monday.
Here's our little video of Day one :)
I'll keep you updated at the weekend progresses.