Tag: First year

Fumbling but Trying

It’s hard to know how to start this entry – it’s hard to know how to do a lot of things these days. We’re home, we’re participating in parts of what was our “normal” routine, but everything – every.single.thing – is completely different. We have Kai’s little blankets that he always had at home and at the hospital (his owls, bees, and “rawrs” as he called them) laid between our pillows, it may seem silly but it’s comforting for us right now.

Looking back we now realize how sick little Kai was before we ended up admitted to the hospital. But even more so we’ve realized how stubborn and resilient this little guy was – he wasn’t going to let some cancer stop him from living life and loving people! He would try and play like almost normal and then would all of sudden just start crying and just collapse in our arms needing us to hold him. We had no idea what was going on at the time, but just knew he needed us.

We’re not really sure how to even to start again. It’s not getting “back” to normal, we have a new normal but I’m not sure what that looks like, I think that it will continue to change, but Kai will always be with us. I’ve been telling Maya when the sun comes out “sun’s out, Kai’s out!” and she smiles. I feel like somehow the littlest ones are able to connect with God on a level those of us who have seen more of the brokenness of this world cannot.

We hurt a lot. And Shawn and I have talked a lot about how easy it can be to just fall into the “we’ll never get to experience ____ with him” and “he’s not here” and “I should have ____” but we can’t stay in those places, right? Maybe it’s kind of like Kai, we’re sick with grief and not sure what’s going on, but when we collapse, God has been holding us: providing us support through your prayers, friends and family keeping us company, bringing us meals, hugs, laughter and so much more, through providing a friend who has connected us to start grief counseling, and through baby Maya who somehow has learned to do the fish face and also created her version of a stink face at 7.5 months old. silly kai

This may sound kind of dumb, but I’m not sure how to pray for Kai these days, but we do pray for Kai. My sister in law said to just tell God that and he’ll show us. So we are kind of fumbling and stumbling with prayers and with the little things every day, but we’re committed to trying and God, I just thank you for being so generous to us and pray you’ll continue to be with us and help us move forward and choose life and love even amidst tears or confusion.  Thank you again so much for Kai’s life and all of the good we’ve witnessed.

Love Wins

As some of you may know already, our sweet baby Kai passed away this evening. The little guy until the end was looking out for everyone else, he hung on so everyone could come today and say goodbye to him. He went so peacefully – he waited till Shawn and I laid down in the bed with him, holding his hands, sang his bedtime songs, and we all three fell asleep. When we woke up, I saw that his vitals were starting to slow, and when we went back to him and held his hands, he took his final breath as we felt the sun emerge from behind the clouds. Kai always (as many 2 year olds do) wanted us to hold his hand and lay with him for “just a little bit” before he would go to bed. His passing was a gracious gift of peace, love, and my heart full of feeling his free spirit. It redeemed the brokenness his body had to endure and he is pain free and smiling.

I don’t know why all of this happened.I know that while I do feel peace knowing that Kai no longer has to suffer, my heart is so broken because I love him, and I miss him, and I grieve the moments I won’t have with him here on earth. But, so so many moments in these past two weeks have been miracles and testimonies of love and evidence of God working in our lives for good. I know that may sound weird, but it’s just true.  The amount of love and support that we have all received through this is just astounding and the number of people who have been touched by little Kai’s story has blown me away. I know we are all grieving right now but I want to choose life. Kai never wanted to nap or sleep – maybe he knew his time here on earth was short so needed to make sure he got all of the jumping on his bed, playing trains, and running around that he could. Kai liked being awake – I want to be awake too and keep alive Kai’s spirit and life and celebrate his new life he’s living now with Jesus. And I’m guessing he was hungry so I hope he’s filling up on all of the granola bars and “punkin” bread he can eat.

I am so incredibly grateful to all of the staff at Dell Children’s — the list we have of all of the people who have been with us on this journey is so long and each of them impacted our lives and helped us give Kai the best care possible. Thank you to all of you who have been with us – I know that the next few weeks for me are going to be tough, really, really tough and I’ll need help remembering to choose life even while grieving. And I must do that because otherwise I’m just being selfish and that’s not honoring Kai. Kai, I love you. You’re my little gentle warrior and little nuggie, you taught me how to love in ways I didn’t know I was capable and showed me glimpses of the pure innocent joy that I look forward to one day experiencing again with you in heaven. Thank you God for the honor and privilege of being Kai’s mom here on earth. So grateful.

Kai on his plasma car
We love you so much Kai!