a few more changes

I haven't written about our recent changes because in the grand scheme of everything, they seem so insignificant. We are thankful that a new home and  a new job for me has fallen into place.

In June, I was hired as an SLP at a multidisciplinary pediatric clinic that is very reputable here in Charlotte. I feel honored to be a part of their team. I spent the last six years working in the schools full time and additionally part time at a small private practice. This is a bit of a change, and it has kept me quite busy. It feels good to work again and get back in a routine, although I grew quite accustomed to staying at home and having time for more things than I usually do. I have met some great people at my new job which I am thankful for. Because of Owen, I look at my work in a different way. I am able to relate to the families I work with so closely without them even knowing it. I also have a new compassion for my patients after all all we went through during Owen's life that I wouldn't have had otherwise. 

On August 28th, we closed on our first home. The home buying process wasn't necessarily smooth, but now that we're in our new home, it's all a blur. Maybe it's similar to childbirth on a much lesser scale... You forget the pain when you see your precious baby's face for the first time.

We moved in from the apartment we were living in temporarily (which is five minutes from the house) with the help of some very dear friends. 

We love this home so much. It is an older house with lots of charm, and it's in a great location. On our first night moving in, seven people came by to introduce themselves and welcome us to the neighborhood. I visited forty-three houses in Charlotte with our sweet realtor, but none of them compared to this one. It was meant to be, and we are thankful to start our family memories here. 

Even in this new home it feels like someone is missing. Someone is missing. He will always be missing for the rest of our earthly lives. One of the bedrooms in our house feels like it should be Owen's. Most of the baby items were taken to Brian's parents a few weeks after he died, but I kept a few special items that I wasn't able to part with. And then there were random items like bibs and a puj tub that were mixed in with miscellaneous items in boxes when we moved. Unpacking those items was so strange. I unpacked the chalkboard that I used to count the weeks of my pregnancy. It still says "Baby Owen - 40 weeks!" It's hard to believe that there should be an almost seven month old baby here. I see pictures of other babies born around Owen's birthday, and they all look so big. They're sitting up and smiling and interacting... I wonder what Owen would look like at that age and wish for those moments and memories we never had with him. 

I'm waiting for the day when the shades of my "darkened glasses" are clear again. I long for my heart to be made whole and for the emptiness I feel to go away. Sometimes I get discouraged that it still hurts so badly, but other days I'm truly amazed at how well I'm doing. I know we all live every day by the grace of God, but for the first time in my life, I can truly say that it is only by God's grace and strength that I am able to live and move forward in life. Missing him, loving him with all my heart. Sweet baby boy. 

six months

It was so wonderful to start a new tradition today honoring Owen by random acts of kindness. His six month birthday was the perfect time to start. Instead of waking up with a heavy heart, I woke up excited about doing something out of the ordinary to celebrate Owen. I know so many people continue to pray for us. Today I felt your prayers. Right before my run this morning, I saw this post on instagram.

This sweet woman (who lost her son Aaden a few years ago), is praying for specific women by name who have also lost babies while she trains for a half marathon, which happens to fall on Aaden's sixth birthday. I saw my name written on her arm, and got chills. I'm so thankful for her heart and her prayers. As I was running, I relived my favorite moments of Owen's life in mind. I completely zoned out which made for a very fast first two miles. :)

Later this afternoon I decided to browse an antique mall. When I was checking out, I overheard an employee telling someone that she just lost her granddaughter. I looked over at her, made eye contact with her, and told her that I just lost a baby too. She came over, gave me a hug, and we both started to cry. It was one of those moments that caught me off guard- my tears wouldn't stop. She told me about her granddaughter and how she only lived for two weeks, yet she fulfilled her purpose in those two weeks more than anyone else could have. I told her about Owen and how he did the same in his six weeks. I told her he would have been six months old today, and how we were planing on celebrating his life. It was a short but meaningful few minutes with a stranger that I felt such a huge connection with. I left the store in tears. A mixture of happy and sad tears. I'm thankful for the blessings I continue to experience throughout my grief. 

Thanks so much to everyone who participated in random acts of kindness! I loved seeing pictures flood social media and getting texts through out the day of things people were doing in his honor. There were some great posts! Leaving flowers on someone's doorstep, making a cake for a friend, paying for some's Redbox movie, leaving an extra tip at a restaurant, making breakfast for coworkers, buying a new mom a Starbucks gift card, giving "The Little Engine That Could" (Owen's last book) to a fiend's daughter, leaving money taped on a vending  machine, making granola for another family, buying someone's coffee or breakfast in the drive through, leaving a Duncan Donuts gift card for the employees at the pool shop, passing out cold drinks to people at a hot bus stop, buying a Walmart gift card for an employee who was having a hard day, serving a meal to a large group of people, making a donation to a chapel for parents who have lost children, donating clothes to  a foster child... I'm sure there are more that I'm missing.  

Earlier this week I got a message from a friend. She told me she was talking about heaven with her four-year-old. He was saying that he didn't want to go to heaven because he likes this world just fine. She started telling him all the great things about heaven and why it will be better than here. He then said, "Oh and I can meet baby Owen and see how big and strong he is." It totally made my day. It warms my heart to know that people still remember my sweet boy. 

Happy six months sweet Owen! We love you and miss you every moment of every day. We can't wait to see how big and strong you are in heaven one day! 

random acts of kindness

I'm constantly trying to think of new ways to incorporate Owen into our daily lives. Even though he's not here, he is a huge part of our family. I love when he comes up in conversation. Last week at church, a lady noticed my necklace and asked if it had my children's names on it. I smiled and told her about being Owen's mom. I think about him all the time. I miss him more than words can describe, but I also feel such gratitude for being able to be his mother. The twenty-third day of the month is always a hard one for me, but I'd love to turn those days into days of happiness. We decided to honor Owen's life through random acts of kindness, and we'd love it if you would join us in this! Our plan is to do one random act of kindness on the twenty-third of each month, but you could do it any day you like! Pinterest is full of ideas. It could be paying for someone's meal or coffee behind you in the drive through, making a donation to a charity, doing someone's yard work, leaving quarters taped to a vending machine, dropping off brownies to your neighbors, leaving your mailman a treat, etc. We plan on leaving little notes [link here] so that Owen's story can continue to spread. If you join us with this, take a picture of your random act of kindness and post to #owenthomasparker. We're excited about honoring his life in this new way! 

Join #TeamOwen!

I just wanted to share with everyone that my cousin's husband, Matt Barr is participating in the upcoming American Heart Association Heart Walk in Nashville. Owen is his inspiration for participating in the walk and for raising money for the AHA. His fundraising goal is $1000. If Owen's story has impacted your life, please consider donating to this fundraiser in his honor. Matt's fundraising page can be found here. Thanks so much for your support! And a special thanks to Matt for participating in the walk and honoring Owen in this special way.

five months

People often tell me what a strong person I am. How they can't imagine what I'm going through, and that they don't know how they would be able to get through such loss. I hope I don't make myself look stronger than I really am. Because lately, I haven't felt very strong. There isn't a day that goes by without tears at some point in the day. My pain is extraordinary. Maybe it's getting a little easier, I don't know. I think I'm just getting used to what it feels like to live life with part of my heart missing. I still have days where all I can do is cry and cry and cry some more. Owen is gone, and he is never coming back. I feel peace knowing he is in heaven, and I thank God for that. But sometimes it doesn't help ease the pain that I continue to feel.

I was shopping this weekend and saw a new mom holding her infant. Another lady stopped and asked how old her baby was. The mom said she was seven weeks old. My heart sank and my eyes instantly filled with tears as I remembered that I never saw Owen live to seven weeks. At seven weeks, we had already had his funeral. It still doesn't seem real. I go through every single photo of him over and over and let my tears flow. I am still blown away by how beautiful and precious he was. He will always remain little and perfect in my mind.

After Owen died, a sweet friend sent me Nancy Tillman's book, Wherever You Are My Love Will Find You. I love these words she writes...

"I wanted you more than you ever will know, so I sent love to follow you wherever you go.

It's high as you wish it. It's quick as an elf. You'll never outgrow it... it stretches itself!

So climb any mountain... climb up to the sky! My love will find you. My love will fly! 

Make a big splash! Go out on a limb! My love will find you. My love can swim!

It never gets lost, never fades, never ends..." 

My love for Owen is never ending which means the loss I feel is also never ending. Oh how I wish I could hold him and read him this book. It's so easy to wallow in my pain and think about all that I don't have, when really, there is much to be thankful for. 

I met a new friend today who also lost her baby boy around the same time we lost Owen. She was talking about heaven and how she believes her son will welcome her there whenever that day comes. Hearing this brought tears to my eyes as I imagined Owen standing there waiting for me and welcoming me with a huge smile and his arms wide open. I can't wait for that day.

I've really been trying to find where God is in my pain and grief. I need help finding him in it. I know he is "close to the brokenhearted," but I don't always feel it. I'm reading a book right now that reminds me that Jesus has experienced every single feeling I feel right now. In a way, it makes me feel closer to him. In Hearing Jesus Speak Into Your Sorrow, Nancy Guthrie writes, "When we hear Jesus speak into our sorrow, we hear his assurance that he has been here before us and that he has things about himself to reveal to us in this hard place, which we could not have been ready to listen for and learn without the hurt." I'm hurting in a pretty major way right now, so I am certain that God is calling me into a deeper, more real relationship with him than I've ever had before. I have to keep reminding myself of this on my darkest days. Owen's life was for a purpose. My pain and suffering after losing him is for a purpose. The question is whether I will be willing to submit to that purpose and grow from it. I really hope so...

Owen would have been five months old today. I am celebrating him today and all that he has given me. He taught me how to love unconditionally, and he taught me more about God's fatherly love. He gave me a new perspective on hope and where my hope lies. Happy five months, sweet boy! I love you with all my heart!

first anniversaries

First anniversaries. There are so many. The day I found out I was pregnant, the day we first heard his heartbeat, the first ultrasound, when we found out he was a boy, feeling kicks for the first time, baby showers, etc... It's a lot.

Sometimes I close my eyes and imagine holding Owen against my chest with his face next to mine. The weight and warmth of his body, his fresh baby smell, and the softness of his skin. I ache for it. The advice I got from other parents before Owen was born was to let the nurses take care of things while we were at the hospital. It's your only time to get a break before you go home with your newborn and it's never ending chaos. My advice to parents would be the opposite. Never put your baby down. Enjoy every single moment. The good and the bad. You never know what the future holds. Every moment is precious. I can count the times I held Owen on two hands, I can count the number of times I heard him cry on one, but I lost track of the number of kisses we gave him. It was too many to count. I'm so thankful for that.

Looking at these pictures brings back so many memories. I remember what he smelled like and how soft his arms were. I remember telling him, "Don't worry. Mommy's here, and I'll never leave you... You're gonna be just fine." I loved telling him "Good morning sweet boy!" I said it to him every single morning. I say that to Toby in the mornings now and wish so badly I was still saying it to Owen.

We only have a couple of short videos of Owen. The one I go back to over and over again is his first bath after he was born. I love watching it and remembering how it felt to see our son for the first time before we knew anything was wrong. He was perfect. The nurse showed Brian exactly how to bathe him when we were at home. But we never went home. In a way, I feel robbed. We have so much love for him and no one to give it to. Losing a child is difficult period. But when you lose your first child, you don't have other children to love. You're a parent, but you don't have anyone to hold and love. You don't fit in with other parents- you fit in more with people without children. It can feel isolating. I think it's cruel to be given the gift of life and then have it taken away so quickly. How can a loving God allow that to happen? It's a battle I face at times... My mind knows that God is good and sovereign and that he has a plan... All of those things are true! I know that. But it doesn't help my breaking, hurting heart and the knot I feel in the back of my throat so often.

Sundays are especially difficult because they were Owen's week-old birthdays. He would have been nineteen weeks old today. Every month when it becomes the 23rd, I wonder what he would look like and what he would be doing developmentally. I see other babies and wonder how they are so healthy. A healthy baby is truly a miracle. Maybe it's because I lost a baby, but after Owen died, I have heard of so many other babies being born sick and dying. I hate how common it is. My heart breaks for those parents as I can truly feel the weight of their deep sorrow. Before Owen, I took life for granted. I hope I never will again.

I think about Owen every single day. I still feel like someone is missing all the time. In some ways, living in Charlotte has provided a little relief. I'm not constantly reminded of him every single place I go like I was in Atlanta where I was pregnant and imagined our life happening after he was born. It's still painful to see moms with babies in their arms and families with strollers. Today babies were baptized at church, and it took everything inside me to hold it together until after the service. I know it won't always be this way.

I am continually blessed by friends and strangers every single day. I still receive cards in the mail from the hospital notifying us of donations made in Owen's honor. These cards make me so happy. A close friend gave me a beautiful print with Owen's name on it. It was made by a mother who lost her second child when he was just 5 weeks old. She has a shop where she sells beautiful art in honor of lost babies. She wrote me such a sweet and sincere note that I will forever treasure. I have been inspired by her story and am learning so much from her. I love what this print says at the bottom: Never forgotten. Forever loved.

I'm learning the hard lesson that my identity is found only in Christ. Not in being a parent or a wife or a friend or in my career. I have a heavenly father who loves me and carries me every single day. Never in my life have I had to rely on his strength more than now. If it were up to me, I would have chosen for Owen to live and to continue on a slower path of spiritual and personal growth. But for whatever reason, it did not happen that way. I am grateful for a God big enough to handle my questioning and doubt and confusion. I am grateful for his faithfulness and his gift of life. 

a little bit of closure

Our last week in Atlanta was an emotional one for me. There wasn't a day without tears, and some days were filled with lots. Moving to a different state two months after your baby dies probably isn't the wisest decision. A move brings a lot of stress, and stress is harder to handle these days. We knew it was what we needed to do, but we were also aware it could stir things up a bit. The worst part of grieving the loss of Owen is that I never know when it will hit me. It hit hard last week...

We went back to Egleston last week for the first time since Owen died. It was weird to be back. When we stepped off the elevator on the second floor of the hospital, we had mixed emotions. It felt like no time had passed at all, but at the same time it felt like so much had changed. The parking deck, the smells, the bright yellow and orange walls... everything brought back so many emotions. The most intense moments of our lives were spent at this place. When we rang the bell to enter the CICU, we so badly wanted to tell the receptionist that we were there for Owen Parker and that we were his parents, just like we had done so many times before. When we walked in the unit, we were greeted by some of our favorite people. I made a list of people I wanted to personally thank, and I came up with over sixty individuals. I wish we could have seen them all that day, but I'm thankful for those we did get to see. We laughed and joked with everyone like old times. They all wanted to know how we were doing, and we wanted to know the same about them. I think coming back was healing for not just us, but for them as well. Owen's life and death left a lasting impact on their lives too. I kept telling everyone how much we missed them, and how much we missed Egleston. They looked at us like we were crazy, but it's true. All of the doctors, nurses, respiratory therapists, social workers, chaplains, therapy dogs, receptionists, cafeteria workers, janitors, etc. will always hold a special place in our hearts. Egleston is a happy place for us because it is where Owen spent his life. That's where most of  our memories with him are.

I remember sitting next to Owen's bed and seeing other families come back to visit with their little ones who were former patients. They all looked so healthy and strong and brought so much joy to the staff in the unit. I wanted SO BADLY for Owen to be one of those success stories. I wanted to bring him back one day and amaze everyone with how well he was doing. I wanted everyone to see him grow big and strong. Even though we weren't able to bring him back with us, it was still good to come back for a visit. Over the past few months, I made a bunch of crotcheted hearts just like the ones I made Owen. When we went back to Egleston, I dropped them off for the nurses to pass out to other babies on the floor. I attached a little note of encouragement for the moms. I know it's not much, but it made me happy to give something to other babies in honor of Owen.

The other highlight from our last week in Atlanta was visiting with the family who we stayed with for six weeks while Owen was in the hospital. We went to their house for dinner, and it was so wonderful to be back. This family was one of the biggest blessings to us during Owen's life. We really clicked with them and became very fast friends. I'm not sure if I ever mentioned before that they also have a son named Owen. We sat around and visited, looked at Owen's baby book, and talked about our upcoming move. They called the cardiologist who lives next door to come over and visit also, so we got to talk to him. He had been on Owen's case since the very beginning, and he was there the day he died. We loved chatting with him and hearing him say that people on the floor are still talking about Owen... It makes us so proud. He really was a special little guy. We all miss him so much.

Leaving Atlanta felt like the end to a chapter in our lives. We have been in Charlotte for a week, and at times it feels like none of that with Owen ever happened. When I look at pictures or videos of him, my heart breaks and longs for him. I never knew how physically draining grief was. It's completely exhausting. Occasionally my arms will physically ache. Like I need to be holding my baby. I can't explain it, but I have heard other parents who have lost babies say the same thing. At my last session with my counselor, he told me that it will get better. He said that my heart will slowly heal. I tearfully told him I don't believe him. I want my heart to heal, and I don't want to be bitter or angry or sad, but I can't imagine it getting any better. Part of me does believe him since he also lost a child....

Overall, our move went well! We ended up subleasing an apartment from some good friends of ours for three months while we look for a house. We had lots of help from friends and family packing, cleaning our house, and unpacking which was great.

Brian drove the truck with Toby who apparently wasn't the best passenger...

The next day, we celebrated Natalie's birthday! We are loving trying out all the fun restaurants that Charlotte has to offer.

Charlotte already feels like the best fresh start we could have asked for. I can't wait to share about our life here in our new city. We really love it. Brian started his new job and loves it, and I'm in the process of looking for work. Thanks for your continued prayers for our family as we continue to try to move forward as best we can. We will never have complete closure on our life with Owen. He does not belong to one chapter of our lives- he will be a part of all the chapters to come, and we are happy to take him with us in our hearts.