Im not doing very good. During Atticus' journey, blogging was very theraputic for me. My hope is that if I get some of whats eating me up inside out, as hard as it may be, I may start to do a little better. So here goes. Im going to start off with the miracles we were blessed with....
From the very beginning of Atticus' diagnosis we knew that medically speaking he was not going to make it. As Atticus' parents, Eric and I felt special promptings and guidance from our Heavenly Father. And although we knew that, HE is in control and had/has a plan for us, DIPG would take him. So we spent a lot of time on our knees; praying for guidance for strength for courage and for help. A lot of time on our knees giving thanks. Yes we were thankful. I know that sounds crazy, but given such a crappy situation, we could not have asked for better circumstances. We could not change Atticus' diagnosis or his outcome, but of the things we could change, we wouldn't have changed a thing, and consider ourselves pretty darn lucky and blessed. Strong marriage. Great family. Great church. Great job. Great friends. Great kids. We were and are so very grateful and witnessed beautiful tender mercies and miracles.
Obviously life has unexpected turns. We learned how quickly life can change. We weren't given much time with Atticus; but we didn't ask for time. We asked for "quality." And that's exactly what we got. Eric and I got thinking and calculating and we figure we got about 5 weeks maybe 6 weeks of "quality" time with Atticus. A month in a half where, although he was a cute chubba-wubba, he was himself. He could run, ride his bike, hit baseballs and golf balls. And it was AMAZING. That is miracle #1.
Eric and I did a lot of reading and researching regarding Diffuse Intrinsic Pontine Glioma's. We felt like we knew as much as any person could know about this "mystery" tumor. We learned, well, let's just say, the end isn't always pretty. And we were terrified. So we started praying and asking Heavenly Father to please make sure that we were right by Atticus' side when his time came. That when his time came it would be as quick and pain free as possible. That he would not have to suffer more than necessary. Miracle #2
Atticus lived life to its fullest right up till the end. Daddy slept with him Saturday night. Something that I cried about at first, not sleeping with him his last night, but something I later thanked the Lord for. Six out of 7 nights, Atticus wanted mommy to sleep with him. I, and I quote, "snuggled better!" Daddy got to have Atticus' last night. And he needed that. They both did.
Eric thought Atticus was asleep and was doing stuff on the laptop when Atticus, out of the blue said, "I love you mommy and daddy! I love you everyone" then went right back to sleep. It makes me wonder if he knew. If he knew it was coming. I know for a fact that Heavenly Father was giving all of us strength but was especially blessing Atticus. That kid was incredible. IS incredible. The way he handled all the changes with ease, especially at the end, incredible. Heavenly Father was giving him comfort and strength. Telling him it would all be ok. I believe that will all my heart and know it to be true.
Eric thought Atticus was asleep and was doing stuff on the laptop when Atticus, out of the blue said, "I love you mommy and daddy! I love you everyone" then went right back to sleep. It makes me wonder if he knew. If he knew it was coming. I know for a fact that Heavenly Father was giving all of us strength but was especially blessing Atticus. That kid was incredible. IS incredible. The way he handled all the changes with ease, especially at the end, incredible. Heavenly Father was giving him comfort and strength. Telling him it would all be ok. I believe that will all my heart and know it to be true.
Sunday morning Atticus woke up around 10am, and like every other morning since being in the PICU, he didn't want to eat. He NEVER ate. But this morning he didn't even want his milk. That was his staple the last few weeks. Whole milk, with maybe 5 or 6 pretzels and if I was lucky a bite or two of string cheese. The entire day.
Isaac down for a nap. I got Atticus settled on the couch and we played Candy Land. Me and Atticus against Daddy. He sure loved that game. We played twice. And I say "played" very loosely. He would watch while I picked the card and moved our player. After our last round, Atticus made up a new game. We separated the cards in to three piles: doubles, singles, and characters. Then I filled his garbage truck with hot wheels and drove it over to him. The game was this, you close your eyes, reach for a pile, and whatever card you pick is however many cars you get. Double= 2 cars, Single= 1 car, Character= no cars.
This is what was so funny, he knew exactly where each pile was so he would close his eyes and of course reach for the double pile! It made me laugh. Then it was my turn, I closed my eyes, and being the mom I instinctively went for the character pile (no car). Then, he went again. Double of course. I went again. I closed my eyes and started reaching for the single pile, when he grabbed my hand and said, "Here mom!! The double pile is over here!!" I have the biggest smile on my face typing this. He is the sweetest thing.
After that, I got in the shower and Atticus and daddy were starting to play games on the ipad. I got out of the shower and went to check on them. They were no longer on the couch. My heart raced a tiny bit. I quickly looked at the clock. It was only 11am. Too early for his nap, (by this point he would only be up for 2 maaaybe 3 hours at a time). I went to his room and he was half asleep. I asked Eric what was wrong and he said Atticus didn't feel good and wanted to lay down.
He was hurting so I got his first dose of morphine. Eric I switched positions and I crawled in bed with Atticus. Kathy, our hospice nurse was just here on Friday and we were getting a higher dose of morphine sent in, but until that got here, the plan was that if he didn't feel better within 5-10 mins to give him a 2nd dose.
He was hurting so I got his first dose of morphine. Eric I switched positions and I crawled in bed with Atticus. Kathy, our hospice nurse was just here on Friday and we were getting a higher dose of morphine sent in, but until that got here, the plan was that if he didn't feel better within 5-10 mins to give him a 2nd dose.
Atticus was suffering. He was in a lot of pain. I gave him his 2nd dose of morphine and called hospice. By this point I was noticing slight twitching, which they specifically told me to look for. Twitching meant that although he was on a high dose of anti-seizure meds, he was still have a seizure. So, I gave him his seizure medication and his third dose of morphine as instructed. Once Atticus' pain was under control. He went in to a coma. Stacie called hospice again for us and we were told to put him on oxygen and to love him and stay close, that she would be there asap. I had Atticus curled up to me, Eric next to him. Both of us loving on him. Comforting him. Telling him how proud we are of him. How much we love him. So SO much.
Once Atticus started snorting with each breath, I turned to Eric and said, "It's happening." You could hear the fluid in his chest. Then the snorting turned to gurgling. I kept one arm around Atticus' head, hand on his cheek. The other on his bare chest so I could feel his heart rate. I felt the changes.
Once Atticus started snorting with each breath, I turned to Eric and said, "It's happening." You could hear the fluid in his chest. Then the snorting turned to gurgling. I kept one arm around Atticus' head, hand on his cheek. The other on his bare chest so I could feel his heart rate. I felt the changes.
A short 4 hours later at around 3:30pm Atticus took his last breath. It was the worst moment in my life. You remember when Eric said that my screaming for him when Atticus had is seizures, would haunt him. Well my screams when he passed will haunt us both forever. I don't want to go in to any more detail than that.
BUT but but but, our prayers were answered. We got our miracle. Atticus left our arms for our Saviors quickly and as pain free as possible. And even though the immediate moments after his passing were the most excruciatingly painful moments of our lives, not long after we felt a sense of peace the neither Eric or I anticipated. He was safe. He was happy. He was in the loving arms of our Heavenly Father. Whole. And we felt that. A few tender mercy's verified that. Atticus was in his heavenly home. What more could Eric and I want... don't answer that :) !
I think back about our last few weeks and realize once again, that I am not in control that Lord is. And He totally has it under control. I realized that had Atticus not been in the PICU, we would had chosen for his last moments to be in the hospital. We were scared to have those ending events happen at home. But because of that experience and how badly Atticus' hated being there (not because of the nurses, just the whole 'hospital' scene, he loved Kammie). Once home from the hospital I told Eric that Atticus needed to pass at home. He hated being there and needed to be with us in his own bed with no monitors beeping and pulling on him. Obviously Eric fully agreed. We needed the PICU to force us to really plan for the future. We hadn't even discussed a funeral. The PICU provided us with insight, time to get things in order, and more importantly treasured time with Atticus.
One thing I do want to clarify, that I have realize I didn't explain well is this, while in the PICU we learned that Atticus had and new type of cancer growing. Leptomeningeal Carcinomatosis. He still had his DIPG, obviously, but now had tumors growing on his spine and cancer cells circulating in his spinal fluid. DIPG is rare enough, 150-200 kids worldwide per year. Leptomeningeal, about 1 in 50 million. Great odds huh? My cute friend Jene, to lighten the mood said, "Ya know, you should really consider gambling. You have impeccable odds!" We all bust up laughing. A much needed break from reality.
Eric and I have feel that it was not his DIPG that took him. Yes his DIPG was much more aggressive than we thought it would be. Yes his DIPG symptoms came back a whole heck of a lot fast than "statistics show" but we don't feel it was the DIPG that took him.
Leptomeningeal Carcinomatosis, takes its course bringing the end of its journey in about 3 months. The good thing with that is the passing it a little gentler. So we personally feel it was the 2nd new cancer that took him.... ALTHOUGH, having said that... Hind sight I wonder, after discussing this with Eric and my mother-in-law, if it wasn't the actual disease that took him but the Lord saying, "Sweet boy, you have completed you mission. Come home." I say that for a two reasons, 1- Saturday morning Atticus threw up so we had hospice come out and he got a clean bill of health. Breathing good. Heart rate, slow but strong. 2- He went from 0 to 60 so quickly. Maybe the Lord did say, "Buddy, it's time. Come home and be healed." His suffering did not need to carry on. What a blessing. What a blessing that one minute he is playing candy land and the next he is healed. Some kids aren't that lucky and their suffering is drawn out. It breaks my heart and puts the biggest pit in my stomach.
Obviously we won't know until our much anticipated reunion with our Heavenly Father and sweet sweet Atticus. But it does make me wonder.
Death is a crazy thing. Witnessing it happening is even crazier and puts things in to a whole new light. Before Atticus passed the thought of, A.. "it" happening at home scared the heck out of me. B.. the thought of holding and loving on someone who had passed, kind a creeped me out. C.. the thought of visiting a cemetery just to feel close to someone did not make sense to me.
Every ones experience is different, but for me, I was so very wrong in each one of those areas. Him passing at home was perfect. It was exactly what we needed. He was comfortable, in his bed snuggled up in his BYU blanket with only the whispering sounds of, "I love you" from mom and dad.
Once he had returned to our Father in Heaven and his spirit was no longer in his body, he still was beautiful, it still was him, and I have never loved his tiny hands more. Never kissed his cheeks so tenderly. His spirit was no longer their but it was the only "him" I had left and I held him for hours. I couldn't kiss him hard enough or long enough. The coldness didn't matter.
The viewing, funeral, and grave site, was ridiculously hard. Nauseatingly hard. I was pretty much numb and had checked out at the cemetery. BUT the morning after his burial, I woke up early, if you can say I even went to sleep, and went to "see" Atticus. I brought a blanket and laid it on the dirt right next to him. I cried for a good hour, slept for maybe 30, then cried some more. I prayed that I would feel a connection with him and I did. I know it's just his body, but it's the closest thing I have. What I thought was odd at one point in my life, visiting a cemetery, I now find as a source of peace and comfort. I'm grateful for that.
As mentioned in the beginning of this post, Im not doing so good. Eric either. Well, he's doing better than me but good grief this is hard. Every day is a roller coaster of emotions. Every day a new emotion is added to an old emotion. Every day is so different. Numbness. Sadness. Disbelief. Anger. Guilt. Sorrow. Regret. Anxiety. ALL emotions. ALL over the place.
The week between Atticus' passing and his service was a blur. But we do feel that Heavenly Father gave us the strength to put one foot in front of the other. The week after we were totally numb in and such disbelief. This week we have been in complete avoidance. I spent a lot of time in Atticus' room the first two weeks. Every morning around 4am I would crawl in his bed, hold "charlie" is stuffed animal he had and slept with since he was 3 months old, and would cry. But this week I avoid it. I don't look at pictures. Push thoughts of him away and try to keep busy.
Tuesday hospice came to pick up his bed and wheelchair, and the avoidance came crashing down. Depression came FULL FORCE and the weight of the world came crashing down on me. Eric and I had therapy that night and I was not in a good place. I was angry. Atticus was gone and I was ticked off. I didn't want to be there. I didn't want to talk about it but I wanted to support Eric, who did want to go. We probably would have been better off if I'de stayed home. Sorry Brother Foote. We love you.
I had a total crazy lady breakdown on the car ride home. Once home, put on a fake happy face, because we had invited Mrs. Cherry over for dinner and no one should have to see "crazy lady breakdown" except for my poor husband who unfortunately for him, is bound by eternity :). Love you honey!! Although I could not find my "happy" place, I did enjoy Mrs. Cherry's company. We love her so very very much and will always keep her in our lives.
I went to bed feeling like my life is over. How could I possibly carry on.
We woke up Wednesday morning and Eric and I held each other and bawled until about 1pm and around 2 pm finally took a step outside our bedroom door. It is so many emotions all at once and so incredibly overwhelming. We know we will see him again, but right now, that is not a source of comfort. We want him here. Now. We miss him.
Thursday was better. Thank goodness. And that's the reality of this. Every day is SO different. One day we feel like we want to die and there is NO WAY we can get through this then the next day, we are of course sad, but know we can and will get through this... one step at a time. It's so frustrating.
Atticus' journey and mission on this earth is complete. He is whole and he is happy. And we are grateful. But we are still knee deep in ours and I hate it.
Isaac has been and is incredible. He is so patient with us and LOVING the attention he is getting from our family. He had Grandma wrapped around his chubby little finger! Eric and I get our moments of relief through him. But unfortunately, seeing him and loving on him, at times, brings me heartache. I love my children the same but that just it, I want BOTH my children. I want to kiss both my babies. Even though Isaac does fill my heart with happiness and love, there is a giant size whole in my heart. An Atticus size whole. And at times I feel so empty. My arms feel so very very empty.
I know with time it will get easier. It already has. Seeing Isaac is starting to fill my heart with happiness more than causing the emptiness throb and thats a good start. My friend Tiff said, that of course our cancer fighting kiddo's are special, but their siblings are too. Amen to that Tiff!!
Eric and I are so grateful that his parents are still here with us. Carrying us each step of the way. We love them so very much and are so blessed to have them.
So there it is. For now. It took me two days to write this but as I reread it, I do feel a bit better. I know we have a tough journey ahead of us but we'll get through it. It's not going to be fun or easy and somedays I won't believe it, but we will and hopefully sometime soon, I'll muster up the same courage I had during Atticus' battle and try to be equally as brave.
Thank you for keeping us in your prayers. We need them!
We love you all,
xoxo, Cindy
BUT but but but, our prayers were answered. We got our miracle. Atticus left our arms for our Saviors quickly and as pain free as possible. And even though the immediate moments after his passing were the most excruciatingly painful moments of our lives, not long after we felt a sense of peace the neither Eric or I anticipated. He was safe. He was happy. He was in the loving arms of our Heavenly Father. Whole. And we felt that. A few tender mercy's verified that. Atticus was in his heavenly home. What more could Eric and I want... don't answer that :) !
I think back about our last few weeks and realize once again, that I am not in control that Lord is. And He totally has it under control. I realized that had Atticus not been in the PICU, we would had chosen for his last moments to be in the hospital. We were scared to have those ending events happen at home. But because of that experience and how badly Atticus' hated being there (not because of the nurses, just the whole 'hospital' scene, he loved Kammie). Once home from the hospital I told Eric that Atticus needed to pass at home. He hated being there and needed to be with us in his own bed with no monitors beeping and pulling on him. Obviously Eric fully agreed. We needed the PICU to force us to really plan for the future. We hadn't even discussed a funeral. The PICU provided us with insight, time to get things in order, and more importantly treasured time with Atticus.
One thing I do want to clarify, that I have realize I didn't explain well is this, while in the PICU we learned that Atticus had and new type of cancer growing. Leptomeningeal Carcinomatosis. He still had his DIPG, obviously, but now had tumors growing on his spine and cancer cells circulating in his spinal fluid. DIPG is rare enough, 150-200 kids worldwide per year. Leptomeningeal, about 1 in 50 million. Great odds huh? My cute friend Jene, to lighten the mood said, "Ya know, you should really consider gambling. You have impeccable odds!" We all bust up laughing. A much needed break from reality.
Eric and I have feel that it was not his DIPG that took him. Yes his DIPG was much more aggressive than we thought it would be. Yes his DIPG symptoms came back a whole heck of a lot fast than "statistics show" but we don't feel it was the DIPG that took him.
Leptomeningeal Carcinomatosis, takes its course bringing the end of its journey in about 3 months. The good thing with that is the passing it a little gentler. So we personally feel it was the 2nd new cancer that took him.... ALTHOUGH, having said that... Hind sight I wonder, after discussing this with Eric and my mother-in-law, if it wasn't the actual disease that took him but the Lord saying, "Sweet boy, you have completed you mission. Come home." I say that for a two reasons, 1- Saturday morning Atticus threw up so we had hospice come out and he got a clean bill of health. Breathing good. Heart rate, slow but strong. 2- He went from 0 to 60 so quickly. Maybe the Lord did say, "Buddy, it's time. Come home and be healed." His suffering did not need to carry on. What a blessing. What a blessing that one minute he is playing candy land and the next he is healed. Some kids aren't that lucky and their suffering is drawn out. It breaks my heart and puts the biggest pit in my stomach.
Obviously we won't know until our much anticipated reunion with our Heavenly Father and sweet sweet Atticus. But it does make me wonder.
Death is a crazy thing. Witnessing it happening is even crazier and puts things in to a whole new light. Before Atticus passed the thought of, A.. "it" happening at home scared the heck out of me. B.. the thought of holding and loving on someone who had passed, kind a creeped me out. C.. the thought of visiting a cemetery just to feel close to someone did not make sense to me.
Every ones experience is different, but for me, I was so very wrong in each one of those areas. Him passing at home was perfect. It was exactly what we needed. He was comfortable, in his bed snuggled up in his BYU blanket with only the whispering sounds of, "I love you" from mom and dad.
Once he had returned to our Father in Heaven and his spirit was no longer in his body, he still was beautiful, it still was him, and I have never loved his tiny hands more. Never kissed his cheeks so tenderly. His spirit was no longer their but it was the only "him" I had left and I held him for hours. I couldn't kiss him hard enough or long enough. The coldness didn't matter.
The viewing, funeral, and grave site, was ridiculously hard. Nauseatingly hard. I was pretty much numb and had checked out at the cemetery. BUT the morning after his burial, I woke up early, if you can say I even went to sleep, and went to "see" Atticus. I brought a blanket and laid it on the dirt right next to him. I cried for a good hour, slept for maybe 30, then cried some more. I prayed that I would feel a connection with him and I did. I know it's just his body, but it's the closest thing I have. What I thought was odd at one point in my life, visiting a cemetery, I now find as a source of peace and comfort. I'm grateful for that.
As mentioned in the beginning of this post, Im not doing so good. Eric either. Well, he's doing better than me but good grief this is hard. Every day is a roller coaster of emotions. Every day a new emotion is added to an old emotion. Every day is so different. Numbness. Sadness. Disbelief. Anger. Guilt. Sorrow. Regret. Anxiety. ALL emotions. ALL over the place.
The week between Atticus' passing and his service was a blur. But we do feel that Heavenly Father gave us the strength to put one foot in front of the other. The week after we were totally numb in and such disbelief. This week we have been in complete avoidance. I spent a lot of time in Atticus' room the first two weeks. Every morning around 4am I would crawl in his bed, hold "charlie" is stuffed animal he had and slept with since he was 3 months old, and would cry. But this week I avoid it. I don't look at pictures. Push thoughts of him away and try to keep busy.
Tuesday hospice came to pick up his bed and wheelchair, and the avoidance came crashing down. Depression came FULL FORCE and the weight of the world came crashing down on me. Eric and I had therapy that night and I was not in a good place. I was angry. Atticus was gone and I was ticked off. I didn't want to be there. I didn't want to talk about it but I wanted to support Eric, who did want to go. We probably would have been better off if I'de stayed home. Sorry Brother Foote. We love you.
I had a total crazy lady breakdown on the car ride home. Once home, put on a fake happy face, because we had invited Mrs. Cherry over for dinner and no one should have to see "crazy lady breakdown" except for my poor husband who unfortunately for him, is bound by eternity :). Love you honey!! Although I could not find my "happy" place, I did enjoy Mrs. Cherry's company. We love her so very very much and will always keep her in our lives.
I went to bed feeling like my life is over. How could I possibly carry on.
We woke up Wednesday morning and Eric and I held each other and bawled until about 1pm and around 2 pm finally took a step outside our bedroom door. It is so many emotions all at once and so incredibly overwhelming. We know we will see him again, but right now, that is not a source of comfort. We want him here. Now. We miss him.
Thursday was better. Thank goodness. And that's the reality of this. Every day is SO different. One day we feel like we want to die and there is NO WAY we can get through this then the next day, we are of course sad, but know we can and will get through this... one step at a time. It's so frustrating.
Atticus' journey and mission on this earth is complete. He is whole and he is happy. And we are grateful. But we are still knee deep in ours and I hate it.
Isaac has been and is incredible. He is so patient with us and LOVING the attention he is getting from our family. He had Grandma wrapped around his chubby little finger! Eric and I get our moments of relief through him. But unfortunately, seeing him and loving on him, at times, brings me heartache. I love my children the same but that just it, I want BOTH my children. I want to kiss both my babies. Even though Isaac does fill my heart with happiness and love, there is a giant size whole in my heart. An Atticus size whole. And at times I feel so empty. My arms feel so very very empty.
I know with time it will get easier. It already has. Seeing Isaac is starting to fill my heart with happiness more than causing the emptiness throb and thats a good start. My friend Tiff said, that of course our cancer fighting kiddo's are special, but their siblings are too. Amen to that Tiff!!
Eric and I are so grateful that his parents are still here with us. Carrying us each step of the way. We love them so very much and are so blessed to have them.
So there it is. For now. It took me two days to write this but as I reread it, I do feel a bit better. I know we have a tough journey ahead of us but we'll get through it. It's not going to be fun or easy and somedays I won't believe it, but we will and hopefully sometime soon, I'll muster up the same courage I had during Atticus' battle and try to be equally as brave.
Thank you for keeping us in your prayers. We need them!
We love you all,
xoxo, Cindy
49 comments:
You still have many "friends" who you have never met, praying for your family and loving you from afar.
I think of your family every day. Thank you for sharing your journey with us. You and Atticus continue to inspire me with your bravery, honesty, and love. I'm so sorry for everything. May God continue to bless you in the ways you need it every day.
You don't know me Cindy and Eric, but I have followed your journey since just after Atticus was diagnosed. If I was there in front of you, I would grab you both and try to hug the pain away. My heart just aches for you. I wish there was something that I could do, but alas I know there is not.
I will continue to read your blog, because I know that unfortunately there will be other families out there that will have to fight this battle and maybe, just maybe what you have learned will help them.
I don't know what else to say except that I am sending good thoughts your way and hope that with time, the ache will ease somewhat.
I am so sorry and will keep you in my thoughts.
Glad to see you writing again. Love you, Cindy.
Dear Cindy, we've never met but I read your blog with tears in my heart for you and your sweet family. I want you to know two things: your feelings are perfectly normal. When I read your words, they are my words, my feelings. We lost our son Michael in a terrible car accident. Of course the hardest thing we will ever do. And the waves of emotion will knock you down but you will get up again. And smile again. The second thing is that your were truly blessed to know he was leaving and to have all that amazing time to say goodbye. What a gift! You will be ok. And it is ok to have meltdowns! As long as you get up again. How could you not. You miss your little boy! My prayers continue with you and your names are still in the Bountiful Temple.
Cindy, we are strangers in life, but friends in the gospel and I just wanted you to know that you and your sweet family are in my thoughts and prayers daily. I am so sorry that you are struggling and have to even go through this trial. I can't even imagine. I will continue to keep you in my prayers and I hope you continue to feel the comfort from the Spirit that you need. :)
Love from Louisiana,
Aarika
Cindy, your family is in our every prayer! Don't ever feel bad for allowing yourself to grieve in your own way. I know you have a lot of support where you are, but remember you also have the love and support of those of us whom you have never met. And, I'd be willing to bet, Atticus has a vested interest in your well-being as well. May angels surround you as you find your strength. Much love, Katie & the Boys in Utah
It may not feel like it, but you are continuing to be prayed for constantly. I am so so sorry that you have to go through so many hard emotions every single day. You are an inspiration to us and you have been a miracle to others through sharing your journey.
We know Atticus was a miracle for bringing love into the lives of so many, for being his amazing incredible beautiful little self... but you have also been a miracle in our lives. You have been able to share this journey through your beautiful words and share with us your beautiful parenting through all of this. I will be forever grateful for your incredible example. Thank you for being so amazing... seriously. You are a.m.a.z.i.n.g. even if it doesn't feel like it.
You have every right to break down and feel the way you have been feeling. Don't feel guilty for having a pity party- you have held strong through this whole journey and this is your turn to grieve and let the emotions loose. I love you and pray for you constantly and will continue to. Know that we love you and that its understandable that you have an enormous hole in your heart and that we are praying for peace for you and that that hole (although it will be there) that it will not ache so badly.
I still wear my Angels for Atticus bracelet each day. I know Atticus is the brightest, most beautiful angel (how could he not be?!!) and he is watching you and I am sure he is praying for you too. I love you. Thanks for writing. xoxoxox.
I always enjoy reading your blog. I cant believe how strong you both are when you are living without your sweet boy. God bless your family and you are all always in this strangers prayers:)
Man, we are so so so so so sorry. It's so hard not knowing what emotion will meet you in various hours. We are proud of you both. You are making it somehow. And thank you for writing. As it helps you in a way, it also helps everyone who reads... There are so many who care about your family!
We sure love you.
Zac and Tiffany
I still think about and pray for your family constantly. I can't imagine what you are going through. I hope that writing your feelings down helps a little and just remember to let yourself feel whatever you need to feel. I miss hearing about all the funny things Atticus says. He is truly an angel.
I love you so, so much Cindy. I'm so grateful for the tender mercies and miracles that Heavenly Father has blessed you with. I'm so grateful for you and Eric and your amazing testimonys. Thank you for your honesty and sharing your deepest thoughts. I know you'll be able to get through it...doesn't make it any easier, but I know you can do it. You are an inspiration to me. xoxoxo
It is amazing how I don't know either one of you, but I would love to hug you and do whatever I possibly could to take the pain away. I can not imagine what you are going through, I read your posts and just cry. I know that our Heavenly Father loves each one of us, He knows of our pains and sorrows and He is there for us. I know that Atticus served a mission here on earth and he has touched many lives--including mine. I pray that you both will continue to see the miracles you have been blessed with and that your close friends and family will continue to be the instruments who bring those blessings into your lives. I know that I do not know the right thing to say--I am so sorry for your loss and for your pain. You are both in my thoughts.
Cindy, oh how my heart aches for you and Eric. I couldn't imagine dealing with this, let alone doing it as well as you have. You are such a strength, even though in your eyes you may not feel strong. I know what a wonderful mother you were to Atti and are still. We love you, I am always here if you need a listening ear, my number has not changed.
Just wanted to say that I have come across your blog since loosing my little 3 year old son nearly 3 months ago. I just want to offer a bit of hope. I am still struggling and all the feelings that you describe are what I also have, every night I go to sleep wishing that I could be with him, and every morning I wake up and start again. However, I know that I am stronger than I was in the beginning and able to cope a little bit more. Looking back I can see that I am doing better. Although its still with me all the time and I am constantly in tears, and I have no idea how I am meant to live the rest of my life without him, somehow the days keep coming and I keep getting through them and suddenly its 3 months. Just get through the days, thats all you can do at the moment I think. Lots of love x
Thank you for the update. I know it's weird to have strangers want to know about such private moments. However, I guess it would be worse if no one cared. WE DO CARE! If somehow having some of humanity feel such compassion for you, somehow carries you....(like it has me during my losses)....then know there is a world of folks far and wide....worried about you, and praying for thousands of tender mercies! When you're ready, I have found an extremely helpful book. 'THE GRIEF RECOVERY HANDBOOK, 20th edition" by John James and Russeel Friedman. I tried everything else...but now..I feel like I'm healing. I'm not connected to them in any way and don't sell anything. It's a genuine recommendation. I've been an RN for 22 years, and lost 7 people and my brand new home got toxic mold poisoning...two years ago. I've not lost a child, but you will know within the first two chapters if it is for you.
You are just as courageous now just in a different way than before. You are getting through each day and that's a big deal. It's selfish but I know we're all glad writing helps even just a tiny bit. We all care so deeply about you and want to know how you're doing so thank you so much for taking time to do that for us. See how great you are? We love you and are praying for you constantly.
Cindy
You don't know me, I moved away from the ward right before you moved in, butI just wanted to tell you that you are brave! I admire you so much! I just keep thinking what an incrediable women you are. I pray for you and Eric daily. Sometimes there just aren't words to express what is in our hearts. I just wanted you to know that much love, and lots of prayer were being sent your way from Laredo!
Dearest Hansen Family - Thank you so much for sharing your journey of faith and love. My heart breaks for you and we've never even met. I was in the temple in Twin Falls Idaho last Saturday and felt the need to put your names on the prayer roll. Please know you are touching many, many lives and many people are praying for your hearts to be healed. Thank you for sharing your testimonies in the way you live.
Sending love from Utah,
Cali
We pray for you still of course. I am so glad you had all that quality time and good memories to make while he was here. There are many dreams and hopes you had planned to experience with him that aren't going to happen on the regular time table now. That is hard. Healing from loss takes time and I'm glad your writing is therapeutic. Continue to keep on keeping on and doing the best you can.
I'm not sure I have ever prayed for, cared about, and cried for anyone I've never met as much as I have for you. I think there are a couple of reasons...first, you just seem like someone I'd be fast friends with anyway. And second, your faith, bravery, and honesty is admirable. Thank you for sharing your story and such personal thoughts and feelings. And thank you for sharing your testimony. It has strengthened mine. I continue to pray for you and your family!
I know you haven't met me but I am Melody's friend and read all your posts. I ache for you and will pray for you. Hang in there.
Cindy and Eric,
Although we have never met, I have followed your blog since Atticus was diagnosed. My heart goes out to your family and brings out many emotions from the past for me as I read your posts. My brother passed away after being diagnosed with a brain tumor. Reading your blog has helped give me an insight as to how my parents likely felt with the passing of my brother. Cancer and death is difficult! Yes, families are forever, but it's hard in this mortal world to continue without them. Know though, it does get better. You will see light at the end of the tunnel...I have seen and experienced this with the loss in my family. Your sweet family is in my thoughts and prayers.
Valynn
I'm another stranger from Chicago. I've been following your journey from the start. I'm praying for your entire family. I'm so, so sorry. Thank you for sharing your thoughts. You'll never know how they can help even those you do not know. With much love...
I think there are many people like myself that read your blog, pray for you daily/hourly but find it difficult to properly express how much we feel for you and love you in a comment section of a blog. After reading about Atticus people no longer feel like strangers. Although you will never meet most of us you will always be a part of us. A small percentage of people will be able to relate to the exceeding amount of pain you feel. As exceeding as your pain is you are promised that there can be nothing so exquisite and sweet as your joy will be. We love you, we pray for you, and the miracles are not over.
Praying for you every day and thinking of you as you walk this very unimaginable road. Atticus is an amazing little boy. No words will comfort you, I am sure, so just know that I continue to pray for strength for you all and thank God that you are able to appreciate the mercies you were given in this dark valley.
I have been following your blog since Atticus was diagnosed. I have been so touched by your strength. I can see that Atticus got his strength from his parents. What a blessing that you can see the miracles that were poured out on your family through your pain. Atticus was a lucky boy to have such loving and caring people around him (family, friends and community). Thanks for letting us all get to know Atticus!! I can say that I am a better person because of your sweet family. I pray that your pain eases and for your continued strength.
Melinda - Utah
I'm not going to lie: grieving is the worst, and it takes a long, long time before you feel better. When my best friend was killed, I was told that the grieving process takes about 5 years - that is, roughly five years until you feel at peace, the depression passes, and you feel like you're able to let go a bit and move on a little. And it did take me almost 5 whole years before I woke up one morning and suddenly the world seemed brighter and I felt peace when I thought of my friend. When I lost my baby boy, it took a little over a year to reach that point.
I know, I remember all too well how impossible the days seem. I say "in 5 years you'll feel better," and it seems impossible that that much time could pass. I still can't think of how long ago I lost my friend without residual feelings of unfairness that over 12 years have gone by. At first I didn't think I'd ever want it, but I am grateful to have the peace that time has given me.
Be easy on yourself, don't beat yourself up over your sadness. Do everything you think will help you feel better. Write down everything to get it all out of your head so it doesn't keep circling in your thoughts endlessly, and write down everything you remember about Atticus. And stay busy - come up with a project. After my friend died I threw myself into painting and drawing. After I lost my baby, I threw myself into Christmas and packing for our move. Those things helped me get through one day at a time.
I hope you and Eric find a peaceful moment everyday, and I hope you always remember those feelings you had of insight and comfort.
Praying for comfort and peace for you.
Have you come across the website agoodgrief.com? A woman named Molly who lost her 2 year old daughter Lucy started it and it is wonderful.
We think and pray for you all everyday. I will continue to read anything you write and feel your emotion. I am honored to some how in the smallest way be here for you. You continue to amaze me with your honesty and faith. I pray you feel Gods love daily.
oh cindy, although you have no idea who i am, my heart is just breaking for you. i really hope you know how amazing you are. and though there are no words, please know we love you! we are praying for you! and we are constantly thinking about you and eric!
I think of you every day, and remember you in my prayers. This was a sweet, heart wrenching post.
Grieving is unique to each of us. And each day is truly different. When my husband died, I felt like I would surely die from the pain. At times I wanted to...but it gets to be the new "normal" (not crazy about that word) and the human spirit fiights through. We endure for the chance to be with our loved ones again! Families are eternal. Hugs to all of you.
Linda
Oh Cindy, you don't know me but I have fallen in love with your family and especially your little Atticus. I have cheered and cried for your family over the past couple of months. I cried all night when I read of atticus' passing but too felt peace knowing that he is healed and whole and running around in heaven. I can't imagine the pain of separation but know that families are eternal and that you will have the opportunity to raise him...but pray that God will ease your pain. Know that I am praying for your family. I thank Heavenly Father for his tender mercies towards your family these past couple of months
Love from strangers in Utah.
A friend told me about your blog, and I'm so glad she did. I'm so sorry for your loss and for the suffering you've endured and had to see your darling son endure. I'm so grateful that you're willing to share your grief. We lost our 4-year-old daughter in February to an accident, and I can relate to much of what you're saying. It helps me face my own heartache and feel that I'm not alone. I'm convinced that we mothers suffer in a unique and terrible way, because we love our children so deeply and as our own flesh. I hope you don't mind if I continue reading your blog. I will pray for your family and mourn with you and trust that better days are ahead.
Because of your blog, I hold my kids tighter and love them deeper. Thank you!
I love your faith. I hope you know and believe that you've helped so many people through your strength and your willingness to share your journey. Still praying and thinking of your sweet family so often. Keep loving on your little Chunk! He's so blessed to have you.
Oh my heart hurts for you. I wish we could take even an ounce of the pain away. I hope you are able to find a few moments of peace and joy today. You are forever in my prayers.
My daughter died 3 years ago from a congenital heart defect. Hers was a slow and agonizing death. I am so very sorry, the worst feeling in the world is watching your child slip away leaving you behind. I wanted to go to her everyday for about 6 months. If it hadn't been for my 2 other children I might have done something drastic. I remember going to the cemetary and wanting to dig up the dirt so I could see her again. It is raw and physically painful. I can smile and find joy again on most days. The grief comes in waves, mostly mine are small but occasionally a tsunami hits. Your waves are all tsunami sized right now. Hang on to those around you, I promise they get smaller, but never really go away. Hugs to you. Whitney...another angel Mom
June 16, 2012 1:23 PM
Hi, you don't know me but I have been reading the story of your sweet Atticus for a couple of months now. I also lost a child and suffered a two late term miscarriages. When others who suffered a loss would tell me that it gets easier, I would just scoff at them. And, easier isn't a great word- it is different and with the passing of time, the hole in your heart will grow smaller. There will always be a hole but your learn to live, experience joy and hope. Keeping the memory alive was and is so helpful to me and my husband. We need to know that our child isn't forgotten. You will be okay and you will carry on. It is what mothers and fathers do. Atticus would want you to enjoy life! Again, I know this seems easier said than done but it will happen. Hang on to each other and your faith and you will be okay!
My heart is breaking for you both. I am so so sorry. You both are amazing parents. Thanks for sharing your thoughts and feelings with all of us. Atticus has touched so many people, and will always have a special place in my heart. Know that you are always in our thoughts and prayers!
Love,
Laurie (Jake's Grams)
Cindy we have much love for you all. Thank you for sharing Atticus and his/your journey. You and your family have a special place in my heart. I am in awe of your strength and determination...you have to one proud mom of your brave strong awesome little man. He will help you brave (you taught him well) I have so much respect for you and have hope and blessings for you and your family. Take care! Xoxo
You are the most amazing woman I have ever met. I hope you feel the strength, prayers and love that all of us are sending you. Please keep writing Cindy, I hope it will continue to be therapuetic for you. Your Atticus is our blessing
xoxo
Julie
I'm so sorry you have to go through this. I lost a daughter last October. I was having a rough day today. I kept replaying my daughters death over and over in my mind. You reminded me of the miracles we witnessed at her death and brought me the peace I needed. Losing our daughter has done more for our family than I could have ever imagined. It is hard but it can also be so beautiful.
Thank you again. You'll be in my prayers.
Eliza
I wish I could think of something to say or do that would ease the sting a bit. I wish I could take some of the pain and shoulder it for you. I would in a heartbeat!! May you see many more tender mercies come your way. May you be surrounded by those here and beyond the veil that will help you stand when your knees just refuse to cooperate. May your marriage become even stronger as you help each other through the moments that seem impossible to get through, and may you feel the love from the many hearts that continue to plead with our Heavenly Father on your behalf. Hang in there, it gets better, I promise! Much love to you guys :o)
Missing is so hard. When my ex boyfriend died this life suddenly felt like such a long, long time. I stopped wearing make up to work cause I always cried it off within the first hour of getting there. Every night at 6 o'clock a terrible loneliness would envelop me as I looked at the sunset and realized that was the color of the sky when he got in the accident. I wondered if I would ever walk around without feeling like someone had shot me through the stomach with a rifle. Those kind of days are so long and hard. My heart truly aches for you. The good news is that in the midst of all your sadness miracles will continue to happen. For me it was the well timed words of a few good friends, some much needed laughter, special notes I found at critical moments, the enveloping warmth of the savior during earnest prayer, and a very special dream. God is still in charge and he can make you as whole as your sweet Atticus. I firmly believe that is possible, here, in this life. Routine and hard work saved me until I could bear the loss a little better. It is okay to grieve. Even the savior wept when his friend Lazarus died. In the meantime I'll be praying for daily miracles to continue to envelop you and your family. You are so loved.
I haven't been able to read this until today... I have been so scared to revisit those last moments with you. I have 2 little guys just like you and the thought of going through what you have gone through is my absolute worst nightmare. I am scared of it every day. I pray for strength for you and for the miracles to continue because heaven knows you need them now maybe more than ever. I pray for you, I hope for you and pray some more that you will be okay and that you will be able to show me that life can be happy again even after such tremendous tragedy. I just need to see someone do it because I feel so sure I could never do it! Stay strong Cindy and Eric, I know it must be hard, but you've just got to do it! Supporting you all the way, Krista in GA.
Ok Cindy... You know I'm not much for blog commenting. I tell you in person how much I love you and how sorry I am for all you and Eric are going through, that I'm still praying for you every day and that I'll always have Atti in my heart. But today I just want to write on your blog instead of calling or texting... To tell you how awesome you are! You and Eric are so strong and I know there is no preparation for this kind of sorrow. Even knowing you'll be with him again does not take away the heartache you are feeling by his absence now. I'm so very very sorry! I'm here for you (even if you just need more dumb A comments to lighten the mood) for anything!! Lots of love!!
Hansens-
We continue to pray and think about sweet Atticus each day. We love having his picture to look at. My kids still pray for him. There is no easy way to get through what you are dealing with. And while "healing" may never come in this life, time acclimates you to the sting. You will never be the same and that is ok. Sending all our love from WA!
the Adams Family
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