Missing You at Christmas

Sweet Boy,

It's Christmas Eve, which means in 24 hours, your brother and sister will experience their 2nd Christmas.  They don't understand Christmas anymore than they did last year, but they do understand toys and playing with family members, so I have no doubt that this year's Christmas will be even better than last year's.  It's such a bittersweet time of year though for me.  As much fun as we'll have spending the day with family, you will always be missing. It's the babies' 2nd Christmas, but this year also marks our 3rd Christmas without you.

There's are special gifts under the tree for Baylor & Griffin from you.  They are these sweet Precious Moment's figurines.  One is an angel pushing a tiny baby girl in a pink baby stroller.  The other is an angel helping a baby boy take his first steps. I found them on sale yesterday in a local shop.  I had stopped there on a whim because I had some time to kill before meeting someone and thought of a last minute gift I could look for there.  I had chosen and paid for the gift when I noticed these on my way out the exit. I only stopped to take a look because Aunt Becca used to be a collector.  The tears stung my eyes as soon as I saw them.  There was only one of each, and I  know they were put there just for me.  I hope that these gifts mean as much to the twins one day as they mean to me.

Last night after I got home, we fed the babies dinner and gave them a bath.  I got Baylor out of the bathtub to get ready for bed while your Daddy finished bathing Griffin. I sat her down on the changing table and was putting on her PJ's when she pointed to the shadow box that hangs above the changing table.  It's filled with the hat & bib that matched the outfit you wore after birth, as well as your footprints, a picture of your tiny hand, and your hospital bracelet. I asked her, "Oh, are you looking at brother's things?" She immediately started looking around the room frantically, and it dawned on me that she was looking for Griffin because he's the only brother she knows. Tears fell for a second time in just a few hours.

One day, she'll know about you even though she won't know you until this lifetime is over.  Grief is hard and it's a journey that never ends.  This morning, as I began typing you this letter, I realized that I forgot to do our annual Toys for Tots donation in your memory. The deadline has way passed, and it's Christmas Eve, so I don't know if I'll be able to do something in it's place. The tears are falling once again, as I feel like I've forgotten you at Christmas even though you've been on my mind so much. A wise friend just reminded me that healing sometimes involves forgetting.  I know she's right, but it's still hard.  I don't want to forget, but I also don't want to stop living.  There is no perfect balance...no guide to follow. We just do the best we can.

Whether I am able to buy toys in your memory or not, you'll be in my heart this Christmas.  I love you and I miss you, baby boy.  Merry Christmas!

Love,

Mommy

Living a life of Love

Sweet Morris,

This morning, I made a cup of coffee and sat down for a few minutes while everyone was asleep.  I opened Facebook to find that a friend had recently welcomed another child into her home.  This friend now has 8 little ones to take care of, including some that require special love and care, and she provides it all with more grace and smiles than many moms of one or two can muster.

It got me thinking about how many amazing people you've brought into my life.  Most are people with whom I would have probably never crossed paths.  They are some of the most selfless, inspirational, genuine people I've ever met, and I feel blessed to know them. Some of these people are part of the loss momma club.  It's a odd club...one with members who don't want you to join, but who rush to greet you with open arms when you do.

I started a new devotional this morning - it's the one we were given in the baby dedication class I wrote you about a few weeks ago.  This morning's devotion seemed like it was written about many of these people I've met or gotten to know better since you.  Part of it read:

"When God talks about love, He isn't talking about the ooey-gooey feelings we have somewhere in our hearts. He's talking about a commitment. He's talking about a choice. He's talking about putting someone else ahead of ourselves. Love can be defined as "compassionately and righteously pursing the well-being of another." Love is an action, not an emotion. And it's a responsibility that God has commanded us to live out." Kingdom Family Devotional, Tony Evans & Johnathan Evans

These friends I've made along this journey, they embody this.  They've taken all the pain that God has put in their path, and they have put it into doing things for others. Some in a more traditional way of showing compassion, giving support, and lending a helping hand.  Others in less traditional ways that maybe they don't even recognize.  But each one of them is living out a life of love.

I can't reflect on the character of these women without reflecting on my own. I wonder - am I living a life that you would be proud of?  Am I doing enough? These are questions that most all of us ask ourselves at times.  I can point to a few areas where I think I'm doing well, and probably a whole bunch more where I'm not.  I've decided that my new year's resolution won't be focused on something I can do for myself, like lose weight or get more sleep, but instead will be focused on an area where I can show more love.

One thing that I am proud of is Operation Over the Rainbow and the love it provides to children in our community.  This year will be our 3rd annual Operation Over the Rainbow, and we'll wrap it up in February, the month in which you would have turned 3 this year.  In the past 2 years, we've collected nearly 300 Journey Bags, book bags filled with personal care items that are given to children when they enter foster care.  It is one small way that your legacy lives on and for that I am grateful.

We had our first snow of the year this weekend.  As I looked out the window at everything pure and white, I thought of you.  I know your holiday season is filled with more glory, love and peace than we could imagine.  Merry Christmas, Morris.

Love,

Mommy

Thank you to all the women with broken hearts who have showed me such love and compassion over the last 3 years!  I'm blessed to know you.

Preparing for the Holidays

Baby Boy,

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas! The stores are filled with holiday items, and the tree is up at the Rankin house.  It's a different kind of tree this year.  I usually put two trees up.  The biggest tree is filled with pretty, matching ornaments in shades of brown and gold.  The second tree is usually the smaller tree, and it's filled with our sentimental ornaments - ones that remind us of you, ones bought as a keepsake from a trip, ones passed down from our childhoods.  Both trees always have classic white lights to make them sparkle. 

This year though, with two toddlers to plan around, I decided on only one tree.  Colored lights and our special ornaments adorn it. I hung the ornaments last Sunday night, and I pointed out each one as I hung them.  "This one is from Mommy and Daddy's honeymoon - look babies, it has Mickey and Minnie on it!" "Baylor, this is one of your first Christmas ornaments."  "This ornament has a big 'G' for Griffin on it!"  "This is an ornament that Mommy and Daddy picked up the year we spent Christmas in NYC.  Did you know that the two of you are souvenirs from that trip?!"

And of course, there were all of your ornaments to hang. "This is Morris's first Christmas ornament. See the pretty angel wings and his name engraved?"  "This elephant ornament was a gift from a friend in memory of your big brother."  "This is one of my favorites - an elephant ornament complete with wings and halo!" "Your aunt Judy bought this ornament for us last year - it has all 5 of our family members on it!"

Afterward, we turned up the Christmas music and danced around the living room together.  As I held Baylor up to the tree to look at one of the ornaments, I found myself in tears.  I don't know if they were sad or happy tears, honestly.  I think they were a mixture of both.  I know a lot of people think it's too early to put up Christmas decorations before the Thanksgiving holiday arrives.  I think with all the craziness of the world these days though, some of us are just looking for the peace and spirit of family that Christmas brings along with it.

As I was decorating the tree, I bent down to pick up an ornament that had fallen.  I noticed something I'd been looking for on top the DVD box under the entertainment center.  It was a devotional book that was given to us for the twins' Baby Dedication service this Mother's Day.  I was so excited, as I knew that I had tucked my notes from the dedication class inside the front cover.  The Baby Dedication class was taught by my friend Julie. I've been looking for the book and my notes ever since, because I got a lot from the class and wanted to be able to document/share what I learned.

The class was based around verses found in Deuteronomy 6:4-7:

"Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise."

There were 5 main takeaways from the class:

1. Widen your circle - Invite others to be involved with your children. You don't have to raise your children all on your own. Partner with the Church. Find people who can reach your children in ways you can't and help strengthen their relationship with Christ.
2. Imagine the end - focus on the things that will have an impact in your child's life.  Choose your battles.  Know the difference between what matters and what matters most. (My take away - fighting with a toddler who wants to wear rain boots when it's not raining = silly; making family dinner time non-negotiable = important). 
3. Fight for the heart - Fight for unconditional love in your home.  Don't win the argument but lose the heart.  Prove to your children that you can be trusted over the long haul. Use positive communication - a communication style that shows you value the relationship.  (I love this last one - so often we respond quickly, especially to children, and without realizing the words we are using or not explaining.)
4. Create a rhythm - Establish what is acceptable in your family and set expectations. If you always go to church together on Sunday and you have dinner each night as a family, it's clear that those things are important.
5. Make it personal - Don't neglect your own salvation. Your parenting success will be about your own relationship with God.  Your faith and character matters because your children are always watching. 

A remember-able quote was, "Focus on the bigger story that God wants to show your children through you."

I wanted to type these notes up months ago, but I think it was God's plan that they were "lost" for a bit.  Sometimes re-reading things later gives you a new appreciation/understanding for the topic, and it encourages you to re-commit to taking it to heart. I want to be the best mom I can be to these two little miracles we've been given, and I'm reminded of some ways that I can do that through the message Julie shared.

Although our house looks like Christmas already, it's the Thanksgiving holiday that we'll be celebrating next. Just like the past 2 years, there will be an empty seat at the table as we celebrate.  We'll light a candle and remember you.  I'll say a praise of thanks on that day as I do everyday for the ways that you've changed my life and the lives of so many others.  

Love, 

Mommy

God's Grace in our Grief

Dear Morris,

I don't know if I've ever shared this story that I'm about to share about your death, but I find it on my mind tonight as I think about our hurting community. A community left with unanswered questions, shaken faith, and a gaping hole after the passing of a young newlywed and her unborn child. While I didn't personally know this woman, my heart is breaking for her family and friends.  Writing you always soothes my heart, and so here I am.

 I started reading a book called "The Circle-Maker: Praying Circles Around Your Biggest Dreams and Greatest Fears" right before I found out you were gone. I had taken the book with me to my appointment that morning, and as I sat in the waiting room anxiously waiting for the nurse to call my name, I read a chapter. With my heart still hoping that my gut feeling that something wrong was just first-time mom jitters, I began to make a list of all the things I should draw a circle around and start praying for you.

Fifteen minutes later, my worst fears were confirmed and my life was turned upside down. I honestly don't remember much about that day beyond going home and laying on the nursery floor sobbing with Daddy.  I do remember waking up in the middle of the night, just hours before we were scheduled to deliver you, and feeling the urge to go pray in the nursery.

I spent an hour sobbing and offering up the most heartfelt prayers.  Recalling what I had read earlier that day, I walked circles in your nursery, touching all the items that had been lovingly chosen for you.  I prayed over each one believing that if I did, you would come home to them. I boldly proclaimed a miracle, and in those early morning moments, I believed that one would be granted.

The next morning, my faith wavered as I prepared to go to the hospital.  It wavered so much that I didn't request the ultrasound that I had planned to request before the induction started to prove that my miracle had been granted. The miracle that I had believed in during those wee hours of the morning seemed so ridiculous just a few short hours later.

Anger is one of the well-known stages of grief, but for some reason, the anger hasn't come for me yet. However, the guilt and regret over what I should have done, prayed, realized, etc. has haunted me at times. Months after your birth, still deep in my grief, I wondered if the reason God didn't answer my prayers was because my faith had been too small.  Because I hadn't prayed long enough or hard enough. Because I hadn't prayed for the right things. Because I didn't trust enough that God could do something impossible.  My heart broke at the thought that I might have failed you by not praying boldly enough.

It's taken me time to move past my guilt. To realize that sometimes God hears us but doesn't answer our prayers in the way that we want. I don't know why.  I trust that His ways are higher than our ways (Isaiah 55:9). People always say that when we get to Heaven, we can ask why, but I think when we get to Heaven it won't matter anymore. All the pain and hurt that we felt on this earth won't even be a memory.

I never finished the Circle Maker book. I honestly have no idea what even happened to my copy.   I have prayed some bold prayers since your death though. Sometimes they've been answered in the way that I hoped, and sometimes they haven't been. In all cases though, I can tell you without a doubt that they have mattered.  Even the ones that weren't answered in the way that I wanted.  Somehow even those prayers have strengthened my faith and confirmed for me that we love a God who gives grace even when his answer is no.

I have experienced God's grace in the midst of my own grief so many times. I pray that those who are hurting so deeply tonight will feel God's arms wrapped tightly around them and that His presence and grace will be ever apparent in the coming days and weeks.

Love,

Mommy

 Morris's verse - my go-to verse when I am in a place where I don't or can't understand. 

Praying for consolation that brings joy. 

Unshed Tears

Morris,

I hardly ever find time to write anymore.  That's probably because I rarely have a moment to myself anymore, and when I do, I usually take advantage of it by going to bed early.  This morning, as the rest of the house was still sleeping, I made myself a cup of coffee and I got an urge to write you.

I miss you.  Lately that feeling has overwhelmed me more times and in more places than I can count.  The grocery store. The car as I'm driving somewhere. The doctor's office. The football game. Our home. So many moments in the last few weeks when I've suddenly found myself thinking of you and hit with a familiar sting of unshed tears. No "triggers" seem to prelude these moments, like a sad song or memory, just me being in normal, everyday places where you should be but aren't.

Your brother and sister are getting so big. Someone asked us the other day how old they were and I replied, "They just turned a year," at the same time that Daddy replied, "Almost 13 months."  I gave him a funny look and was about to correct him when he reminded me that they will be 13 months in just a few days.  It's crazy how fast time flies.

I had a horrible dream the night before last.  Daddy and I had gone somewhere, and when we went to pick up your brother and sister from wherever they were, Baylor wasn't there.  I immediately knew somehow that someone bad had her and I was crying, panicked, and distraught. I was begging others in the dream to help me find her, but they kept telling me that she would be okay and whoever had her would bring her back.  I woke up from the dream before I could find her, and I was physically sick to my stomach and upset.  I looked at the monitor and Baylor was peacefully sleeping, but I went into the nursery anyway and brought her and Griffin to our bed. I loved and kissed on them all morning.  I am still sick thinking about the evils that exist in this world, and I will continue to pray that our family is never touched by them and pray for the families that sadly have been.

I think this dream is just a symptom of the heightened anxiety that I've felt lately.  There is so much sadness and scariness in the world right now.  I try to avoid the news to save myself additional worry and anxiety. I remind myself that God is in control no matter what happens and that He has a plan. If I'm honest, there days when neither of those tactics work. It's an ever present battle for me.  Bringing two more innocent children into the world only gave me more to worry about, but I know they are worth it so I will continue to find ways to push through.

Our family had a new baby born into it a few weeks ago, and like I've done a few times, I went to the hospital to visit.  It's always difficult for me to walk back into the hospital where we said goodbye to you, but it's also healing to see new life there. As I was leaving, right before walking out the entrance door, I had a sudden urge to turn down the hallway and go to the room where I last held you.  When we delivered you, they gave us a room on a side of the ward that didn't seem to be used as often as it was farther away from rooms where other moms where delivering.  One of the distinct memories I have from that morning is walking past the nursery windows with the blinds pulled tightly shut (presumably so we weren't in a position to see any new babies) to our delivery room.  On the occasions we've been at the hospital since your birth, I've often had this urge to go to our delivery room.  This time was the first time that I actually tried to push through the big double doors that lead that way.  They were locked of course.  I thought about asking the nurses if the room was in use, but as the tears began to build, I quickly exited to my car where I had a good cry.  Maybe one day I'll step foot in that room again - not for closure, but to for the chance to feel as close to you for a few moments as I did the last time I held you.

Love,

Mommy

Happy 1st Birthday to B&G

To Baylor and Griffin on the Eve of your 1st Birthday,

Tonight I gave you the last kisses you'll receive before turning one year old.  So many emotions are running through my mind as I type this letter to you. Happiness when I think about the moments we've spent together. Disbelief that time could have passed us by so quickly. Excitement for what the future holds for each of you. A little regret for the moments that passed while I was worrying about the dishes in the sink or responding to an email. A whole lot of grateful when I reflect on our story.

I knew that I wanted to be a mother from the time I was a little girl. My imagined grown-up life came complete with husband, a few kids, dog and a white picket fence. Like many young girls do, I remember thinking about how amazing it would be to have twins.  Never in a million years is it a dream that I thought would come true. I most certainly couldn't have imagined the journey that it would take to get us here.

The last two and a half years have contained both the darkest and brightest moments in my life. Since losing your big brother Morris, I feel everything more deeply. It's both a blessing and a curse sometimes. I tell people often that your brother changed me in a profound way, and it's true. But I want you both to know that your arrival has changed me in an equally profound way. It is impossible to experience a love that knows no bounds without being different in some way.  You have restored my hope and healed my heart more than you'll ever know.

Baylor, I adore your sweet smile. I love how your whole face lights up whenever we sing "If you're happy and you know it" or any other song for that matter. No matter what my day's been like on any given day, seeing you scoot my direction as fast as you can when you spot me walking through the door will always make me smile. I chuckle each time I see you tuck a toy under your arm and turn the other way to keep your brother from taking it. The desire you already show for independence is bittersweet, but is an answered prayer in some ways.  Before I even knew if you would be a boy or a girl, I began praying for you.  I prayed that Baby A (you) would be strong and courageous.  Not strong in the physical sense, but in the sense that you would stand up for what you believed was right and that you would be an advocate and voice for others.  When I watch you, I can't help but wonder if I'm already seeing the result of those prayers. I believe that you can change the world, and I can't wait to watch you take on that challenge.

Griffin, your adventurous spirit makes my heart happy.  I love watching you figure out new things like how to climb or play peek-a-boo or make a new sound.  Listening to you make truck noises as you play with your dump trucks and tractors on the floor and throwing a ball with you are some of my favorite things to do. I love watching you happily gobble down Grami's chicken pot pie all the while making "mmmm" noises to let us know how good it is.  I enjoy seeing your special bond with Izzy and think it's cute that one of your favorite things to do is help take her outside each morning. I prayed for you before you were born too. And just like with your sister, I already see evidence of my prayers. I prayed that Baby B (you) would have a compassionate heart and empathy for others.  I adore how every morning when Baylor finally wakes up, your face lights up as soon as you see her and many mornings you reach for her.  And whenever you hear her crying, you immediately come to find out what is wrong. I know you'll always be her protector, and for that I am so grateful. I know that God will use the gifts he gave you in lots of other ways, and I'm excited to see all those ways.

Daddy and I always tell people just how blessed we are with the two of you.  You are a perfect pair in every way.  I've never known such happy babies, and on occasion I have stopped to wonder how we got so lucky. I have to believe that part of it is that you can tell just how loved you are, not only by Daddy and me, but by everyone who knows you.  If I had to take a guess, I'd say the other part of it is prayer....so many prayers that I prayed and others prayed for joy to be restored to our family.  You, my precious double rainbows, have brought nothing but joy.

Happy Birthday sweet little ones.  I can't wait to spend another year watching you grow.

Love,

Mommy

Mommy's cheesy grin says it all..

 It says that you two have brought her more happiness than you could possibly know!

Happy Endings

Sweet Morris,

In a letter I wrote you not long after you passed away, I told you about a country song I could relate to that opens with the line, "Sunny days seem to hurt the most..."  I don't know if it's because the days of deep, dark grief have passed or not, but I now find myself saddest not when the skies are full of sunshine, but rather on the days when it seems as if the Heaven's are weeping with me over all that we lost.

I've struggled with my anxiety lately.  There are times when it seems as if our happy ending is just too good to be true, and I feel as though I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop.  I think back to a time not long ago when it seemed Ryan and I were on top of the world, only for us to have the rug pulled out from under us one day. I wonder if my heart can take something like that again.

Last week, I had a situation that I was particularly anxious over.  That evening, as I anxiously prayed that God would give me a peace about the situation, the sun came out just as it stopped raining.  I immediately began looking for a physical sign in the sky to let me know that God had heard my prayers, but my rainbow never appeared.  A few days later, I was anxious about another situation and prayed a similar prayer.  Almost instantly, Morris' song (How Great is Our God) came on the radio, and I felt peace.

These two experiences have left me wondering...why does God let us struggle with things sometimes?  Like He did for me in the second situation, He could so easily give us the peace we are asking for, calm our minds and hearts, and help us make the decisions with which we are wrestling. For some reason though, He sometimes appears silent in the midst of our anxiety and fear.

As I've thought about my situations last week, I've realized that in the second situation where I felt the immediate peace, I laid the situation in God's lap and left it there.  I trusted as I prayed that God would hear my prayers.  In the first situation, the truth is that even as I prayed for peace, I held on tight to the situation. I didn't trust that God had a plan, or more specifically, that he had the "right" plan.  My faith was much weaker because I was intently focused on my fear. I wonder if maybe God was just waiting on me to let go of the situation and fully trust Him before he revealed His plan to me.

I know that anxiety will always be a struggle for me, but I hope that I can learn to let go of the fear more often and  have faith in happy endings.  If Disney has taught me anything, it's that happy endings always come after a lot of ups and downs. More importantly, a quote I came across reminded me of this little nugget of truth, "God only makes happy endings. If it's not happy, it's not the end."

Love,

Mommy

Missing You

Morris,

I woke up this morning at 5:30 AM.  The rest of the house was quiet.  I could always use more sleep, but it isn't often these days that I have a few minutes to myself, so I decided to get up and take advantage of everyone else snoozing.

I've been feeling pretty emotional about you lately.  I was telling Daddy last night that this is probably the most emotional that I've felt since those early months after we lost you.  I keep seeing posts about 2nd birthdays for babies born in February and March, and all I can think is that we should be getting to celebrate that milestone with you. Getting through your first birthday was hard, but I think being pregnant with the twins and everything that came along with that masked my sadness a bit.

Your brother and sister are getting so big!  They are sitting up on their own, and I'm pretty sure they'll be on the move soon. They love reading, and every once in a while we'll turn on the Disney channel for the colors and music. Last weekend we did this, and Winnie the Pooh was on.  It was a new version of the show that I hadn't seen, and would you believe that an elephant seems to have joined the Pooh crew?  I smiled and left the episode on, even though the show is a bit advanced for the twins.  My favorite thing is finding an elephant where I least expect to see one. God always seems to know when I could use a Morris moment.

We wrapped up Operation Over the Rainbow a few weeks ago.  We ended up with 95 Journey Bags to donate to children in Foster Care, and a $500 donation from McDonough Toyota Staunton that is being used to fill more bags.  We also learned that another local organization is going to be sponsoring a collection for Operation Over the Rainbow this summer.  We collected fewer bags than we did last year, but that was to be expected this year as I just didn't have as much time to put into planning and organizing.  Still, one hundred kids will feel loved this year because of you.  I can't help but feel proud of that fact.

I've known since the moment I found out you were gone that our life will forever have an aspect of grieving to it.  I've thought about it; I've told others it; I've written about it.  Still, I think the last few weeks have taken me by surprise in that I've come to realize that there will be moments when it feels like the grief hasn't diminished at all.  When the thought of you and what we lost feels as heavy as the first day without you did. Time has changed some things, like the frequency and length of these moments, but they still exist. My heart goes out to people who have been touched by such deep grief so early in their lives.  To be faced with a lifetime of grieving at an even younger age than I have been strikes me as so tragic.

Well, my moments of silence have run out.  Babies are awake and ready to play.  But I hope you know that I miss you Morris.  I will miss you until the day we are reunited.

Love,

Mommy

Happy 2nd Birthday

My Sweet Little One,

I've found myself thinking about you a lot lately.  February holds your life and death in it's hands. One day you were alive and kicking inside me; the next day you weren't. I'm so busy these days, but even the endless tasks I find myself faced with don't keep me from missing you.  It is hard to believe that it has been two years since we learned that you wouldn't come home with us. Two years since I laid eyes on you and since I held you in my arms.  Two years full of heartache, devastation and despair, and yet somehow joy too.

The other night, I held your little brother in my arms for a little while after he'd fallen asleep. Daddy came back into the room after laying Baylor down and commented to me, "You just want to hold him for a little while, huh?  That's okay; hold him as long as you want."  I wonder sometimes what I'd do without this amazing man on my journey.  We've been through a lot together in the last few years - infertility, losing you, and then spontaneously getting pregnant with twins.  All of these things have stressed us and at times strained us, but they have also made us stronger. Your Daddy gets me in ways that no one else does. He is an awesome man, husband and father. 

Your brother and sister are really showing their personalities these days. They turn 6 months old next week, and it is so much fun to watch them grow.  I often wonder  in what ways they might be like you.  Would you have had endless smiles like your sister does?  Would Griffin's serious and curious nature be déjà vu if we had gotten to know you first?  I also think about what it would be like if you were here.  Would you be the proud big brother who wants to help with everything? Would you be just a tiny bit jealous of sharing Mommy's time?  I'm sure the answer is some of both. It makes me sad that Baylor and Griffin missed out on experiencing their big brother's love firsthand.

I talk about you to them sometimes. Not in a grown up way that they wouldn't understand, but by naturally mentioning you here and there, like when they are wearing elephants or when we are singing a song I sang to you in the womb. I know that there are people who won't understand this and who might think it best for me to leave you out of the story I tell them. But that's never been possible for me, and I think it's important that your brother and sister know that I am the mother I am because of you. I don't know how knowing about you will shape their lives, but I hope that by sharing you with them, they will grow up learning to be compassionate, empathetic and understanding to other's stories. I hope they grow up knowing how strong my love is for each of them in part because they see how strong it is for you.

Daddy and I celebrated your birthday again this year, just like we promised. We went shopping for Journey Bags to donate to Operation Over the Rainbow, then we came home to spend time with your brother and sister and enjoy cupcakes in your memory. We lit two candles on top of a cupcake, and Daddy asked me if I was going to make a wish before I blew them out. I couldn't think of anything to wish for myself, so as I closed my eyes and blew out the candles, I wished for you to know just how much you are loved and will be missed until the day we are all reunited. Happy 2nd Birthday Morris!

Love, 

Mommy

We received several sweet drawings this month for you, and I thought I'd share:

These beautiful elephant drawings were gifted to us by a talented artist!

Your cousins Charlotte and Penelope colored these sweet pics for you on your birthday.

This drawing came from Jolie, the daughter of a new online friend that is also an angel mommy. 

Operation Over the Rainbow 2017

Dear Community,

It's Operation Over the Rainbow time again!  As always, I am so overwhelmed by your love and support in these efforts to ensure foster children and families in our local community know just how much they are loved and treasured. So many of you participated last year in filling Journey Bags, bags that are stuffed with clothes, toiletries, toys and more and given to foster children when they enter care. Without these bags, many children would have nothing to bring to their new home, and the "lucky" ones might only have a trash bag with a few belongings they were able to gather.

A lot of you already know Ryan and my story.  For those that are new to Operation Over the Rainbow though, I thought I'd share our story again with a few more details that I couldn't share before.

Operation Over the Rainbow began in December 2015 as an idea to remember my firstborn son, Morris Keith Rankin, on his first still birthday. We had recently helped out a friend who had been entrusted with a 5 week old foster child. That sweet baby had arrived with very little notice, and no time for the family to really gather the clothes or other necessities they needed. As we selected some of Morris' clothes, toys, and other items to gift to her, the idea for Operation Over the Rainbow was born. The community overwhelmed us with support last year, and we were able to collect over 175 Journey Bags to donate to our local DSS offices.

Early in our efforts to collect Journey Bags, I reached out to TV3 to see if they would share our event on their community calendar.  I had no intention of speaking to a reporter or becoming a story. However, a reporter reached out to me and asked if we would consider speaking on camera.  I told her that I would really have to think about it.  It seems these days, people can find a reason to be negative about just about anything.  Because I didn't want anything to tarnish something I was doing in Morris' memory, and because it was important to me that the focus be on the real cause, I struggled with whether or not to do the story.  A few friends and family members finally convinced me to move forward.

The day that I met with the reporter, I knew without a doubt that God had orchestrated our meeting. Christina had recently lost two close friends and was on her own grief journey, so our connection was instant. She was so compassionate as she listened to me tell my story and let me show her my Morris treasures. She went out of her way to make sure that I was comfortable with what she planned to say during the segment.

As we wrapped up the meeting, and Christina was packing stuff up to take to her car, she suddenly stopped.  "I want to ask you something, but I'm not sure I should.  I could probably get fired for it," she said.  I wasn't quite sure what to expect, but I replied, "Sure, go ahead." She then told me that she had never done anything like this before, but that she felt God tugging on her heart to pray with me before she left. We stood in my living room, with camera equipment on the floor, Christina's arms wrapped around me, and tears streaming down both our faces as she said the most beautiful prayer for me.

The next day, I learned that I was pregnant. The simultaneous joy and terror I felt in that moment was incredible. I instantly thought of my new friend's prayer, and I knew why God had put me so strongly on her heart in that moment a day before. I am so grateful that Christina listened to the Holy Spirit, because her prayer will always be an important part of our story.

Just a few days before our Operation Over the Rainbow Celebration Day, we learned that the rainbow baby I was carrying was actually a double rainbow...that's right, twins!  Our 2016 was an incredible year, and I gave birth to our precious miracles in August.  They have kept us incredibly busy ever since, and for that reason and several others, I wasn't sure that we would do an Operation Over the Rainbow this year.  But just before Christmas, I felt God clearly tugging on my heart to organize the event once more. I am tired, stressed and overwhelmed with work and home life right now, but I am trusting God to provide everything needed to make this a success once again.

While this event started in memory of Morris, it is about so much more than just him.  It is about innocent children that live all around us feeling God's love and presence in their lives. It is about the unsung heroes, like my friend, who welcome these children into their homes with open arms and show some of them the only real love they've ever known. It's about people like Jenny-Rose Eccles, foster mom extraordinaire and founder of Foster Love Ministries, a community support group for foster families. From what I know about Jenny, she won't be pleased about any type of recognition or praise, but I want to wrap up my letter to you with one more story about my Operation Over the Rainbow experience with her last year.

After all the Journey Bags were stuffed, double-checked, and tagged last year, Jenny invited me to drop them off to the local DSS offices with her. We loaded her van and my SUV with bags.  On our way to the Augusta office, Jenny asked me if  I minded if we ran through the drive-thru for some lunch for her two little ones in the back seat.  As we waited for the food, her little boy asked about playing on the playground.  Jenny's reply went something like this, "Today is our day to help other people, remember? I know you want to play, and I promise that we will another day.  But on Tuesdays, we spend our day doing things for others. We are going to deliver these bags to boys and girls that can use them."

In that moment, I have never felt more respect for someone, and I knew that I wanted to be a mother like Jenny.  A mother who teaches her kids the joy and meaning in serving others. One who dedicates what precious little time she has after working as a PICU nurse, taking classes, and taking care of her sweet family to helping those who are less fortunate. A woman who is passionate about a cause and who works tirelessly to fighting for it. Jenny is a real-life hero.

Your love and support of Operation Over the Rainbow means more to me than you will ever know.  I am so grateful that we have a God who expects nothing more in return for His mercy and blessings than our praises and thanksgiving, because I could never in my lifetime repay Him for His grace in my life.  Thank you for helping me give back in some small way for all the blessings I've received.

Love,

Keri

Jenny and I delivering Journey Bags last year

New Year, Same God

My sweet son,

Yesterday was the first day of the New Year. I know a lot of people were glad to see 2016 go, but for me it was bittersweet. Last year brought a lot of heartache and pain for sure, but it was my year of rainbows. Our 2016 started with a project in your memory, Operation Over the Rainbow, where we collected nearly 175 Journey Bags for children in foster care. Spring and summer storms lit up the sky with more double rainbows than I ever remember seeing in one year, and they were the brightest, most beautiful rainbows that I've ever laid eyes on. And then in August, we welcomed our own beautiful double rainbows and spent the remainder of the year enjoying every single moment with them. 

I spent a few hours at Morris Park on New Year's Eve with family and friends. As much as I wanted to have your brother and sister spend their first New Year's Eve at Morris Park, I went alone.  They are getting both over being sick, and I didn't want to bring them out in the cold. They stayed home with Daddy, B-Ball and G-Daddy. Papaw did a special ball drop at 7 PM so I could get back home and spend what was left of 2016 with my own precious family.

Like last year, Papaw rigged up a ball to drop in the park, and we had fun counting down to the new year. This year, the firetruck playset that Papaw built was lit up with red Christmas lights and flashing sirens on top. After the ball drop, the cold weather didn't hamper the kiddos' excitement to play for a few minutes on the playground.  Papaw gave me a hug and reminded me that the ball drop was in your memory. We are so lucky to have Morris Park and all its memories. 

Not long after I started my short drive home, it dawned on me that 2016 was the first full calendar year without you.  Fellow loss friends will probably understand why that realization left me with tears streaming down my face.  I can't explain why to those who haven't experienced a profound loss, but those who have know how sometimes the oddest of milestones can trigger your grief. 

About half-way home, I passed a lighted church sign that read, "Your year may change, but God always remains the same", or something to that effect. For the rest of the drive home, I rejoiced in the fact that no matter what words you replace "your year" with that sentence remains true.  "Your job", "your home”, “your health", "your bank account", "your marital status", "your number of living family members"....all these things may change in the new year, but God will remain the same loving, faithful, ever-powerful, all-knowing God that he has always been. And with that truth in my heart, I was able to dry my tears before I pulled into the garage to greet my precious family.

Happy New Year in Heaven baby boy.  You will be missed as much this year as you were last year, but I'll continue to take comfort in knowing that you are lucky enough to be held by our never-changing God.

Love, 

Mommy

Morris Park New Year's Eve Countdown

Mommy at Morris Park's New Year's Eve Celebration

The kiddos loved playing after the ball drop!

Happy New Year from Baylor & Griffin!