Hope

Hope was a constant theme of our pregnancy with William. We always had hope. Even before we knew anything was wrong, we hoped for a normal pregnancy. Then at the first indication that something may be wrong, we hoped the doctors were mistaken. When we knew the doctors were probably right, we hoped he'd become better after birth.

We hoped our hearts out the day he was born.

Even hours later when William's doctor said, "It's come to that time..." - even when we knew he was dying we held onto it.

Hope did not vanish all at once. It lingered. I remember Tommy handing me our little guy and placing him on my chest. He wiggled and squirmed right into me. A nurse later told me that he looked content, like he was back where he felt most comfortable. Kate told me that he opened his eyes a bit :)

Were we in shock? Maybe. But we were still hoping that by some miracle of unwavering, parental love - a power only we could give him - he'd pull through.

It was in between that special time we had holding him that we loosened our grip on hope and let the grace of God shine down on us. It's hard to explain everything we felt. Loss for words, drained of energy, we sort of felt like everything was over; his struggle, our pregnancy, the waiting, the worry. But not everything was over - we know now that his life wasn't truly over, he lives on.

We poured all our love over him. He gave it right back. We believe this exchange of love is intertwined within every molecule of our body. We've never felt more connected with any other person. We are a trio.

Now, we hold onto a new hope. It's too scary to think we could lose another baby. So instead we will continue hoping for a healthy baby.

We'd like to share a little poem with you today and a photo of his perfect little foot.

Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul

And sings the tune without the words

And never stops - at all

                                      Emily Dickinson

William's little foot, the most perfect foot we've ever seen

Love to all,

Liz and Tom

A walk with William

It's been 9 months since William was born. It's also been 9 months since I kissed him goodbye. I feel like with all the sadness that comes with losing a baby, sometimes I have to remind myself of how much goodness he's spread and to celebrate that.

Today, while walking through the park, I came upon a street performer playing "Twinkle Twinkle" on accordion. This is not the first time one of William's songs played at the exact moment as I passed by. It's actually happened three times this summer. Once, outside of the subway a violinist played "Colors of the Wind" and I've heard "You are my Sunshine" on guitar in the same spot as today. We listened to these songs all the time when he was in my belly. I think he liked them.

Maybe the angels have brought these songs to me as a source of peace and comfort, another way to connect me with William. And that makes me happy.

As I walked on, I imagined him giggling at all the ducks and swans and squirrels. It made my day :)

xoxo
Liz

peaceful day in the park

angel sculpture in the public garden

9 months in heaven

There is a certain happiness that William gives us. It’s unlike any other happy feeling. We're glad to have this platform to share that happiness with you.

Happy 9 months, little boy! 

xoxo

Mommy and Daddy

Honored to be his parents

Loving him was the easiest thing we've ever done. 

Losing him was the hardest. 

But to have him part of our lives has been the single 

greatest privilege of all. 

We look at all the good that has come from William and his life and all it's done for us and we feel so honored to be his parents :)

Cherubs look after him

Four months after William died, we found ourselves in the Vatican surrounded by world treasures and some of the most exquisite paintings one would ever see. Rare pieces, like the two shared below, took our breath away. They are frescoes painted in 1480 by Melozzo da Forlì. The exhibition struck us because it pictured darling little angels praying over a small child with blonde hair :)

The art was titled simply as "a group of cherubs" - but to us, it meant so much more. They were a beautiful vision of what heaven felt like. Little baby bear, surrounded by light and love, being cared for by angels just like these, all snuggled up in the clouds.

To think that 500 years later, through wars and weather, after being torn from their original fresco wall, transported and restored, these painting would meet with the gaze of two grieving parents and speak to them like no other art ever could...

We hope you enjoy these paintings as much as we do and we look forward to sharing more of our favorites soon.

xoxo,
Liz and Tom

Love at first sight

We wanted to share his second ultrasound photos with you all, taken about this time last year. They bring us back to such happy times. Baby was growing well and there were no signs that anything was wrong. We were still on cloud nine.

It's nice to remember the good times.

xoxo,
Liz and Tom

perfect little arms and tiny little fingers

cute lil nose

you can see his leg and two lips in this shot

one of our favorite scans of William sleeping so peacefully :)

his hand giving a little fist bump

rolled over on his belly, face down, silly baby bear ;-)