What am I missing?

Matthew is learning new words everyday and sometimes, his pronunciation is astonishingly good. Sometimes he'll say a word and I'll be surprised how clear it is. He clearly is able to listen and imitate.

But here's our conversation this morning which has me thinking I'm just missing something in the way he is processing things:

Me: Matthew can you say 'airplane'?
Matthew: "airplane."
Me: Good! Matthew can you say 'car'?
Matthew: "Car!"
Me: Can you say 'Michael'
Matthew: "Michael."
Me: Can you say 'bus'?
Matthew: "Bus!"
Me: Can you say 'Choo-Choo-Train?'
Matthew: "Choo-Choo Train"
Me: Good! Can you say helicopter?

Matthew: "Stee!"

Flippin' Sweet!

What is making him smile?




Seeing a dolphin for the first time, of course!!



Matthew was a little less interested and instead posed for a Myspace-esque self-portrait.

Trade Negotiations

What do you do when you have a dumb ol' graham cracker and a water cup while your brother has Goldfish and a helicopter?



Especially when your brother is this kind of a tough customer...



You can try several approaches:
1. Just Ask



2. Sweetness


3. Sneak one when an airplane comes....






4. Look for fallen scraps:


5. Performing



6. Scene-Stealing


7. Try to appeal to his patriotic spirit


8. Pretend to be blind and ask for handouts



9. Pull rank and just ask Mommy.

Two Fun Packages and One Not-So-Fun

This was a busy mail week. Unless I indulge in a little online shopping, I don't usually get too many packages around here. So for three packages to have come was a busy week!

The first fun one was the boys' easter basket from the Campbells. Loaded with candy, coloring books, play-dough, balls and a little novelty gift (a candy-pooping cow) I just can't wait for the boys to wake up from their naps so they can enjoy them. I've been pretty stingy on candy distribution, but when I do give them a piece, I say "Happy Easter!" so when Michael wants more candy he says, "More Happy Easter? Pwease?" It's way too cute.

A very fun little fact about the candy-pooping cow--revenge for some of the gifts I got last year....but Wheetah, just wait til my package comes (some point after I mail it...thank goodness I have like 8 weeks!) I will once again reign supreme as gift terrorist numero uno!) anyways, this cow moos whenever it is moved even the slightest. When I picked up the package from the apartment office it Mooed loudly and the landlady kind of gave me a look indicating that it wasn't the first time she had heard that! She said the mailman commented that everytime he hit a bump on the way to deliver the package, he would hear a loud "Moo!" I guess it brightened his day :)

Second fun package was a cool-mist fan for the kids' room.



For the past couple of years, we have struggled with the kids room getting so hot in the summer. Since our air conditioner is only in the front room, and we keep the kids' door closed to block out sound, it gets pretty toasty in there. We have a fan going, but at a certain point, blowing around hot air only does so much. Furthermore, at some point before Michael turns 3 (you know, in like 2.5 months!), we are going to have to spring him from his crib and actually put him in a real bed. As nice as it is to have him confined, and since we have not gotten any complaints from him, we just haven't really had it at the forefront of our minds to change. The other problem is that the fan we have in there has a kind of loose grate, and imagining him milling around in his room with a fan that could cause him harm did not inspire us to rush things.

Now that we have this humidifier, we have it up on top of the dresser so there is no danger whatsoever in that room anymore, which means Matthew can hang out in his room unattended and while there is only so much we can do to prevent the boys from milling around their room at night once we spring them from their crib jails, at least they will only be able to cause mischief and not harm.

This fan also purports to cool the room by 20 degrees simply by its misting powers, so we'll see about that, and perhaps will be investing in another one for us!

And finally, the third package that came was this:



It came from a company that makes caskets for babies who die before birth. The casket itself is handmade, beautiful, and perfect for his size. The mortuary sells caskets, but sells only caskets for newborns (of which Gabriel would have taken up a full 1% of the space) but the cost of them is pretty astronomical. Obviously, we are not looking to deny him a burial with dignity, but goodness, the bottom line quote from the mortuary for the vault and casket, of which Gabriel was going to occupy such a small amount of space, I really hoped there would be a better way.

And there was!

I did not want to open the box, but I knew if something needed to be changed, the sooner I knew about it the better. And while it is sad to see such a small casket and to picture Gabriel resting in it, I will tell you, that it is very well made and despite being more economical, is in no way less beautiful or dignified.

The couple who runs Heaven's Gain has lost children of their own due to miscarriage, and they were wanting to provide something for parents who wanted to bury miscarried children, since not all mortuaries have caskets for that small of a child. Not only was I impressed with the craftsmanship, but the tone of the website, their compassion to their customers, and their service left nothing to be desired for us. I ordered the casket on Tuesday and it was here on Friday. God willing, no one reading this blog will have to bury a child, but if anyone knows someone who needs a casket and vault for such a small baby, I would recommend this company.

So those are my two fun packages and a sad one. But even the sad one has to be done...and since it has to be done, I'm glad we were able to find one that is nice for him.

Dear Readers

Tomorrow will be a week since we found out we lost Gabriel, and Friday will be a week since his delivery. I wanted to update you all on a few things and then comment on the direction of this blog afterwards.

* We are still working out the details of his burial, but those are starting to fall into place too. His little baby casket is being delivered on Friday. It is appropriate for his size instead of the one we could buy at the mortuary that is for a fully-developed baby. I feel happier knowing he will be resting in something that is a little more cozy. I don't know why.

* I am healing very well and have had absolutely no complications, thanks be to God.

*Whether he likes it or not, Gabriel is in charge of praying for pregnant moms, and for husband and wives hoping to be pregnant. This is the case for several reasons: 1) We have full confidence in the mercy of God, and that Gabriel is in Heaven. That being the case, and being not bound by time, he has lots of opportunities to pray for people. So that's what he's doing, and I don't want him to feel bored, so he has an assignment. 2) In salvation history, the archangel Gabriel announced to the Virgin Mary that she was to conceive and bear a son: Jesus Christ. Since St. Gabriel is our little Gabriel's patron saint, I thought it would be appropriate if Gabriel pray for couples hoping to conceive and receive announcements of their own of an upcoming baby. 3) Praying for couples hoping to conceive (and of course that those babies be kept safe in their mother's wombs!) is something our family has done for years. So while we pray for those intentions during each Mass and before each bedtime, Gabriel is keeping up with our family tradition. 4) I'm still Gabriel's mom and that's the assignment I've given him so I know he'll do it.

* Michael and Matthew are keeping me busy and keeping me laughing. They also have been unusually sweet and obedient lately. I think our little intercessor is doing a good job. Seeing Mumma and Papa, and Grammy and Poppi over the past few days I am sure didn't bother them a bit either.

*At the last update, we still hadn't taken Gabriel to the mortuary. On Saturday morning, Fr. Michael met us at the Church and drove with us, spoke to the people there with us, and then joined us for lunch afterwards. All of this on the day before Easter when the Church was bustling preparing for one of the busiest weekends of the year. He also kept Gabriel with him from Friday to Saturday, lit a candle for him, prayed a Rosary for him, and kept him next to him while he worked on his Easter homily. When we saw him Saturday morning, Fr. Michael had put the container (the mortuary told us we needed to put Gabriel's remains in a plastic container for them to be able to receive him...it felt a little dehumanizing shuffling through my Tupperware drawer and I still hate the sight of Tupperware). We did our best to add a little dignity to the situation: We wrapped Gabriel's body in a little blanket, and placed him in the container, and then wrapped the container in a baby blanket.

But when we saw Fr. Michael on Saturday, he had put the container in a small, beautiful, wooden chest. Placed a Rosary and a crucifix in the chest, and then gave him a leather-bound New Testament to go with him on top of the chest. He said, since he was a Barber, he would have to study the Bible. Fr. Michael is amazing and though he was already very dear to our family, we will never be able to articulate the depth of gratitude and love we have for him and how supportive he was in this time. He is a truly compassionate man and an amazing priest.

* We are still going through our times of grief, but the raw emotion of it all is subsiding and we are settling into our new reality.

This brings me to my comment about the direction of this blog. It is hard for me to make a transition from the events of the past week, to going back and posting about the silly antics of Matthew and MIchael. I feel like if I spend all my time hashing and rehashing the events of this week, it will not be healthy. I don't even really have anything new to add to what I have said. Our grief is still present and we still talk about it everyday, but this stage of the process is not really suitable for public display, but finds its appropriate place in the quiet of personal conversation.

So, torn between just moving on and posting silly things again, as if I am forgetting about Gabriel on the one hand, and no longer posting silly things because they might make someone think we are forgetting about what happened and not giving its fully gravity on the other...I feel like I am going to continue to move the blog forward in the same tone you would find us if you visited our home. You will find two crazy boys who do crazy things and say funny things and have their funny little way about them; and you will find a mom and a dad who can still stop and laugh and enjoy and be silly with them and each other. But if you visited, you will still also find us talking about Gabriel, about what's new with preparing for his burial, about how we are doing, etc. But we are also not solely focused on that because life keeps going forward.

In the next few days, expect a post about Michael and Matthew and back to the day to day functions of the house. And if I remember to charge my camera and look for the cable to put the pictures into my computer, I may even spoil you with a few shots of their goofiness. And maybe a few days after that, you can expect another post on how things are going preparing for laying Gabriel's body to rest. I don't know what I'll be in the mood for writing.

I just wanted to ease myself (and my loyal band of readers...whoever you are, and you MUST be loyal after all the hiatuses I have taken!) back into life as we know it, Michael, Matthew, Gabriel and all.

"It is finished"

The Barber family has lived out its Good Friday.

Little Gabriel Barber was born, whole, perfectly in tact, lifeless, yet beautiful at home today.

I labored with contractions for a few hours until 11am and then quickly and painlessly delivered our little baby boy (we're pretty sure it was a boy, but he was so small and delicate, we couldn't look very close to investigate. Michael believes he saw boy parts...but even if we are mistaken, Gabriel can be a girl's name too). We wrapped him in a blue towel and laid him in our room.

Fr. Michael, our parish priest, one of the most wonderful priests we could ever know, helped us make arrangements with the local mortuary who will hold his body until we are able to make arrangements for a small burial. We are hoping to bury him where we already have family. Even though we know his soul is no longer with his body, we feel comfort by him not being in a cemetery all alone.

Seriously, the goodness, compassion and love we received from Fr. Michael and the woman in charge of bereavement at our parish, Blanquita, could not be overstated. Fr. Michael, on Good Friday, one of the busiest times of the year for a priest, made the necessary phone calls with the funeral home on our behalf, knowing he would have an easier time getting through than we would.

Since I had to go to the hospital due to having more bleeding after the delivery than my doctor would have liked, we could not bring him to the funeral home before 4:30pm. By that time, they had already closed. When she couldn't get through by phone, Blanquita dropped what she was doing and drove over to the home in person to see if they were still open.

We couldn't bring Gabriel to the mortuary today, so Fr. Michael prayed with us, blessed the baby, and took him to the rectory so we would know he was in a safe place, but so we wouldn't have the emotional hardship of having him home. He said he will light a candle for him tonight and keep vigil for us until tomorrow, when again, he will drop his plans for however long needed, and go with us to take Gabriel to the mortuary for safekeeping.

Fr. Peter, Michael's uncle, was also supporting us all day through his constant prayer and his immediate answer to our questions, despite his busy Good Friday schedule.

Of course, our siblings and our parents were a constant source of love and strength. We deeply appreciate their help watching the kids, making plans to be with us for appointments next week, phone calls, messages, and of course their constant prayer.

We also thank my grandparents as well for their prayer and for GG's phone calls in the midst of all this to show love and support. Especially since GG knows the pain of delivering a baby who was not alive.

Little Gabriel is so loved by not only his parents and his brothers, but by his whole family and those in the broader family of our Church.

We are so grateful to God for a peaceful and uneventful delivery. Under the circumstances, things could not have gone more smoothly for us. We love and miss our little baby and our day has been punctuated by moments of sorrow when we think about what it would have been like to have him join our other boys' crazy little clan. We were full of sadness as we drove him to the Church to give him to Fr. Michael knowing this would be the last car ride with him. We are constantly reminded that we are no longer preparing for his coming in October as we have been accustomed to doing for the past 3 months.

Gabriel had to do nothing to earn our love. He didn't have to coo or smile, or having a great birth, or grab our finger or anything. He just simply had to exist in order to have our complete love, which he had since the day we knew I was pregnant. He was loved so very, very much and we will never forget our little one in Heaven waiting for us to be with him. It is a beautiful reminder of God's love for us: unearned and freely given. He loves us simply because we exist and because we are His children.

Lastly, we are so grateful this happened on Good Friday. The day to unite our suffering with our Lord. The day when we have the company of Mary who also buried her Son on this day. It was the perfect day to reflect on death, and the hope of new life. It was the perfect day to know God is with us in our suffering.

It has been a whirlwind. Exactly 24 hours after we found out he was no longer alive, I gave birth to him. This is not how we expected this week to go. But its swiftness has been a blessing, and God has given us the grace to grieve together for him, and to look on our little boys that are healthy and alive with such deep love and appreciation, knowing in a real way how very fragile life is.

"The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away...blessed be the Lord!" (Job 1:21).

The God who can do something...but doesn't

Today I went hopefully to my 14 week ultrasound, looking forward to seeing our third baby squirming, kicking, sucking thumbs and waving at the camera. Our second glimpse at the baby... the first was 7 weeks ago, we saw him/her with a fluttering heart, a peanut-like shape, but a clearly identifiable head and body. It was already a cutie. After finishing a rough trimester of sickness and exhaustion, about to enter the "glory days" of pregnancy, finding a doctor who would let me do a VBAC and not another c-section, things were looking up and this appointment was going to be almost as exciting as the one next month when we would find out if were were having a boy or a girl.

Instead of all this, we saw a baby, 12 weeks in size, lying still and lifeless on his/her side, looking at us quietly. A minute passed, the doctor scrutinized the screen, moved the ultrasound wand looking for a heart that wouldn't beat. Everything was silent and it stayed that way for the rest of the visit. Using the internal ultrasound produced the same results. A lifeless little baby with a heart that had stopped beating two weeks ago.

Today, I went to Holy Thursday Mass. Still carrying the baby, but I sensed vacancy and emptiness even though his/her body was still there. I received communion. I thought about Jairus' daughter who was so clearly dead but Jesus, almost non-chalantly said, "She's just sleeping" and brought her back to life (as if that were a really easy mistake to make). Or Peter who healed Tabitha...Peter, whose power comes from Christ, the same Christ I just received in communion. I thought, "Lord, if this baby comes to back to life and it's a girl, we'll name her Tabitha! Wouldn't that be an amazing story to tell! Her very name will be a way to spread the glory of God." And if it's a boy, we'll name him Lazarus! Or maybe, just his middle name...Lazarus as a first name is kind of weird. But a middle name will still get the point across. Lazarus, the man dead for days and Jesus brought him back from the dead! The same Jesus I just received in communion! The very same person! I believe He is the same! No less powerful, no less capable of miracles! How can Jesus get any closer to touch my baby's body than receiving communion?

At the procession of the Blessed Sacrament, the priest passed us by, carrying the Eucharist. He passed us right by, like Peter's shadow healing the people in Acts...people were healed..because of Peter! But someone greater than Peter is here, passing by, and not just his shadow, but His real presence!

Lord! You can do it! It would be so cool! What a neat story! What makes these people, Tabitha, Lazarus, Jairus' daughter more important than my baby? My baby can grow to spread the gospel too..He or she can give you glory. He or she can make a difference! You can do it!

Yes, He can.

But Holy Thursday never ends without seamlessly flowing into Good Friday. Good Friday the day when Jesus' power, his ability, his resolve and purpose are put to the test. "Get down from the cross." He can! But He doesn't...yet. "Save yourself and us" He can! But He doesn't...yet. God can do all these things, He can bring this baby back to life, He can perform any miracle and answer any and every person who petitions Him for His display of power. But sometimes He does and sometimes He doesn't...yet.

And though I want to hold it against him for letting some live or some walk, or some see...but not everyone, how can I when He withheld His miraculous demonstration of strength and power even from Himself?

I'm running off to the bathroom crying and whining to a God who not only understands, but dealt himself a far worse hand than He's dealt me.

And when I run off and cry to this God insisting that he should do it, leveling reason after reason why it would be amazing if he did do it, I can't help but laugh at my smallness of mind when I realize I'm talking to a God that is notorious for having bigger plans. He knows what He's doing. He knew what He was doing when he didn't come off that cross. He knew something better would follow.

And if I can spend my whole life following this God and believing in Him...if I can spend Lent after Lent, Good Friday after Good Friday and still not learn my lesson that God has his reasons and those reasons are good, those reasons demonstrate His power more than my reasons would, that those reasons are for a greater good, well, then, it's a good thing there's next year so I can have a chance to try to learn the lesson all over again.

Oh...Good Friday. I wish you didn't come. Because if you didn't, I could whine guiltlessly to a Savior I just didn't think understood suffering. I could bargain endlessly about why it's always better to just make suffering and sadness go away and dispel with the Cross. If you didn't exist, you ironically named Day, then I could bend the ear as one of your "little people" who you don't know what it is to be like.

Oh...Easter Sunday. Some days, when I like to wallow in my pity. I even sometimes wish you didn't come. Because if you didn't, I could boldly suggest that my idea is better. I could say that suffering isn't worth it. I could talk about how great it would be to settle for a lesser kind of good and a lesser kind of glory.

But Good Friday. Here you are. You've already begun. And on this night when I suffer, I can look and see this confusing image of my Savior who suffered. Who saves me not from the suffering, but saves me in the suffering.

And Easter Sunday. I know you are coming. You come every year, because you came on that First Year. And I am glad you are coming. Because when I play it all out in my head about amazing miracles, and death-defying rescues, I still feel the emptiness. I still remember the stillness on that ultrasound screen. I know when you come, you'll be bright, and joyful and full of sunshine and Alleluias. And the part of me that wants to cry and fuss and convince you that my way is better, will think about another kind of emptiness: The emptiness of that tomb.

And I know Your way is better, and even more amazing and more miraculous than mine.