no wonder we miss her.

i counted today that we were in the NICU with Olive every single day, all day, for 120 days after she was born. One of those days I was in Chiang Rai packing up our things while Rusty was with Olive in Bangkok. Before that I carried her inside me for 200 days...No wonder life feels strange without her.

Someone sent us this video about the life of another baby Elliot, born with trisomy 18 who died after 99 days of life here on earth. click HERE to watch the short video that Elliot's father made.

"An underdeveloped lung. A heart with a hole in it. And DNA which placed 
faulty information into every cell in your body could not stop God from 
revealing himself through a child who never uttered a word. Not a pulpit,
not a slick presentation, not a best-selling book, but a six pound boy 
with trisomy 18. God found great pleasure to find a lowly thing in the eyes
of the world and show truth." -Elliot's father

gifts from two very special groups of people.

A few nights ago we had dinner with Dr. White (Olive's neonatologist) and his family. Dr. White and his wife attend a bible study one night a week with a group of adults who have special needs. This particular group of people has been praying for Olive since she was in Thailand. They had heard that Olive, like them, was going to have special needs and disabilities and they prayed for her every week and sincerely cared about her.

After she died they had a balloon send off in her honor with pink and white balloons. They also wanted to make sure we got this cross in a beautiful box and a card with their names on it. We were so touched when we heard about this group of people, and hope that we will get a chance to meet them and let them know how much their love for Olive meant to us.

The other letters below are from another first grade class in Texas. I thought they were so ridiculously cute with the spelling and pictures that I couldn't keep them all to myself. You can click on any of the photos to make them bigger and easier to read.

Visiting the NICU.

We went to the NICU in South Bend today to visit the nurses and bring them some goodies. Before leaving I wasn't sure if I would feel up to actually going inside and told Rusty, dad, and mom that I might just wait in the car. The drive to Memorial Hospital brought back so many memories of the weeks and days before Olive died, and lots of tears.

I think my biggest fear was thinking that I would have an overwhelming urge to go to the room where Olive stayed and to see another baby in her place.

Upon arriving I decided to go in, and in the end was thankful I did. I also decided not to go into the room Olive stayed in...it all just felt too raw.

A few of the nurses we had gotten close to were working and we were able to spend some time talking with them, and thanked them for the ways they had cared for Olive with such love. We thanked Annie (Olive's primary nurse) for coming in to work last minute on the night Olive was dying. She took such good care of Olive. The night Olive died, even after her passing, Annie continued talking sweetly to her as she made molds of her little hands. Annie has a brother with cerebral palsy and one thing I always appreciated was how she never gave me false hope. I would sometimes ask her about her brother and get so excited to hear how well he was doing.  Annie always reminded me that I can't expect Olive's story to be the same as his, and that each story is unique. As much as I wanted that false reassurance,  another part of me was grateful for how carefully she was trying to protect us..mostly from ourselves.

One thing Olive wasn't lacking in her short little life was love...not only from us and our friends and family, but also from the nurses in both Thailand and the States who cared for her each day. The love and care they have shown us since her passing through e-mails, letters, phone calls, and skype sessions has meant more than they realize.

On a side note, we started grief counseling this week. I think this will be an important step in preparing to return to Thailand, and will help us sort through some of our personal baggage. A lot of the baggage I am carrying with me is still related to Olive's premature birth and the guilt surrounding that. The last months have also affected my spiritual life as well.  I've never walked through a period of time when God has felt more silent or when I have struggled so much with the worth of my prayers...wondering if He has been hearing them.

I'm not asking for easy answers. I know God is still there...somewhere. And I am resting in the comfort that He is now caring for Olive, and that one day I will get to see her there in Heaven. I am just completely confused as to why the journey had to be so bumpy, and why Olive had to get almost every possible complication in the book. Why she had to suffer so much along the way.

This morning a women told me, "Time will heal, I promise." Part of me hopes it won't. When you lose someone that you love so deeply, there is something comforting about the pain you feel when your heart is ripped apart. The pain you are left with makes it all feel more like reality that they were really here. That that they really existed...and that it wasn't just a dream.

pure sweetness.

My sister Melody called a few nights ago and told me that she had watched the video of Olive with her son Tyler (who is 5 years old). They were about a minute in, when she noticed Tyler was crying. He gave her a hug and kiss and said that he wanted "to give Olive a kiss, ... but it's too late... because she died." They talked about Olive being in Heaven, and Melody told Tyler that Olive is probably watching him and that she could hear him say that, so she knows he wanted to give her a kiss. 


He cried and said that he was sad she died. He wondered if Olive would feel happy to know that. Melody told him that it will make Olive feel happy to know how much he loves her. 


Then he looked up, and put his hand out, as if talking to her, and cried, saying that he loves her, blew her kisses and said, "goodbye." He said, "Olive died. If Aunt Lynette makes another baby, it just won't be the same. It just won't be Olive." He talked about looking at her in the casket, showing with his hands how big he thought she was (about 12 inches long), and cried saying how cute and little she was. 


poor little love.