It’s been a year. 

A year ago, when I was in labor at 33 weeks, I thought, “This can’t be it! It’s too early! I’m not ready!” But she was. Cecilia was ready to change our lives.

There’s a quote that a fellow Trisomy 18 mama shared, and it has resonated with me so much this past year. “People ask, “Why do children or young people die, when they have lived so little?” How do you know that they have lived so little? This crude measure of yours is time, but life is not measured in time. How do you know what inner growth this soul accomplished in its short span, and what influence it had upon others? Each life is meaningful, significant, and valuable… no matter how short.” -Leo Tolstoy

I only had a few hours to hold my second baby girl. I tried to soak up so much of her before I had to give her away. Touching her baby-soft skin, staring at her dark hair, and memorizing the visible signs of her Trisomy 18 diagnosis – clenched fists, cleft lip and tiny ears that stuck straight out. But the time still came, and I still had to go home without her. Back to the home that remained the same, and also somehow changed forever. 

The word ‘seasons’ stuck with me. I knew this would be a long, hard season of grief. Just like the seasons of the year, I knew it would eventually transition into something else, but I would always circle back to it.

Somehow, day by day, things got easier. Talking helped, but prayer gave me strength. Between our 22-week ultrasound when we were given her Trisomy 18 diagnosis, and when she was born, there was a gospel reading that spoke right to me.

“On that day, as evening drew on, Jesus said to his disciples: “Let us cross to the other side.” Leaving the crowd, they took Jesus with them in the boat just as he was. And other boats were with him. A violent squall came up and waves were breaking over the boat, so that it was already filling up. Jesus was in the stern, asleep on a cushion. They woke him and said to him, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” He woke up, rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, “Quiet! Be still!” The wind ceased and there was great calm. Then he asked them, “Why are you terrified? Do you not yet have faith?” They were filled with great awe and said to one another, “Who then is this whom even wind and the sea obey?” -Mark 4:35-41

Every time I felt the choppy waters of life threaten to drown me, I told myself, “I’ve got Jesus in my boat. He will keep me safe.”

I was beyond thankful for having two healthy children at home, finally realizing what a gift they are, and I didn’t want to take them for granted any more. I ignored most ‘outlets’ that I used to distract myself with (online shopping, social media scrolling, etc.) and I searched for ways to become a better mom and wife. 

As a family, we started a garden, filling up almost every square inch of what I thought should just be put to lawn two years ago. We enjoyed the Black Hills like tourists do. I joined the women’s book club through our church, and was introduced to Catechesis of the Good Shepherd.
This is where things really took a turn! I had been considering homeschooling our kids for a while, and had come across some Montessori things here and there, but didn’t really know where to start. When it was suggested that I check out this training for CGS, I thought it would just be for my personal growth.

So I signed up for an intense 8-day training (which was both overwhelming and SO exciting) and I learned all kinds of ways to teach scripture + liturgy to 3-6 year olds. I learned so much about my faith, and was amazed at how much young kids can soak up if only we present it to them! On the last day of training, we visited another church who had this system in place. 
It was the church that Lance and I got married in seven years ago. And the classroom used for Catechesis of the Good Shepherd had a sign with a name above the door: St. Cecilia. 

I had already thanked God for giving me this opportunity to learn something so wonderful, but that sign was everything I needed to know that this is exactly where I was called to be.
The rest of the summer and fall was a blur. I was so grateful to have found something that God clearly wanted me to pursue. He gifted us with another new life (yes – we are expecting a baby boy in April!!!) which has been a journey in and of itself. And this winter I was able to finish up my training for CGS – which brings me to Cecilia’s first birthday.

It was the first day of our last 3-day training session. Before I got out of bed, I pulled up the day’s readings on my phone. The gospel was Mark 4:35-41. “Quiet! Be Still!” The wind ceased and there was great calm. Thank you, God, for giving me exactly what I needed that day.

I traveled to the church where Lance and I got married (where the last of the training took place) and cherished the image of Mary and baby Jesus above the front door.

I studied hard and answered the awkward small-talk questions at lunch, “When are you due?” and “How many kids do you have?” Deep breath… “Two at home, one in heaven.” And then someone asked how long ago that happened. Another deep breath. “A year ago today.” 

I busied myself all afternoon with more learning and note-taking, and when it was time to go home for the day, I walked out of the church to see the sky filled with PINK!

Thank you God. Thank you Cecilia. I love you so much. Thank you for this year of immense growth. My family and I wouldn’t be who we are without you.

Back when we thought we were going to have three kids at home this year, I purposefully chose not to schedule any weddings before June, or further than an hour away from our home – I wanted to cherish as much time as possible with our new baby. Turning down these weddings greatly reduced the number of work I took on for the year, but I trusted that God’s plan was greater.

Our sweet daughter arrived early, and she didn’t stay with us for long, giving us a lot more ‘free time’ than we had originally planned for. Lots of that time was spent grieving, but also cherishing the gift of our first two children even more. We viewed each day as an adventure, and we were very intentional with our evenings and weekends together.

Being immersed in this lifestyle and mindset, the ‘work’ that I did accept was simply more rewarding, and I savored the in-between moments even more than I have before.

I wasn’t focused on getting Instagram-worthy photos that would gain a lot of likes or comments, or even sharing any photos on the blog – my focus was on the people in front of my camera, and as soon as their images were handed over, my attention turned back to our family.

I simply witnessed the beautiful lives interacting in front of my camera. What I saw was so much love. I saw a grandfather snuggling his only grandchild while his cancer drained the life right out of him. I watched a wife welcome her husband back home after a year-long deployment, and wait for his belongings at baggage claim together (such a simple act filled with so much joy). I’ve gotten time to catch up with past brides and grooms, hearing where life has taken them, and for a couple of those couples, I also got to meet their growing babies. And for the people who were in front of my camera for the first time, instead of telling them how to pose, I let a lot more natural moments unfold, which were far better than anything I could have imagined for them.

Some of these stories might get some more attention in my yearly ‘best of MOMENTS’ blog post coming up, but for now, I just want to say a simple ‘thank you’ to everyone who has invited me to document their lives this year. You are such a gift.

It almost feels like we’ve been given the gift of time. If we don’t celebrate and cherish our lives together now, when will we?

To sum up my last blog post… losing our daughter, Cecilia, has opened our hearts to the fact that our time here on earth is so precious (and short). So, we’re living out the adventures we’ve been meaning to do, and savoring the smaller, daily adventures in a new/refreshed/heartfelt way.

Now, what does this mean for you?

I still love documenting love. I’m still photographing weddings, elopements, engagements, and life in general. 

I’m also finally taking the leap in to creating videos. It’s been something I’ve wanted to do for a while, and even though parts of it still scare me, I’m willing to lean in to the learning curve in order to document honest, authentic, everyday adventures in a new-to-me way. While this process (and end product) won’t be perfect, they will definitely be memorable – and that’s what good adventures should be, right?

So, tell me! What does your everyday adventure look like? Hiking a new trail on your day off? Chasing toddlers around? Do you have a garden of your own (tell me your secrets)? Do you love making dinner together? I want to help you document that! (And then stay for dinner, if what you love is to cook. ;-)) Think of it like a home video that you and your loved ones all get to be in.

One of the sweetest couples I’ve had the honor of photographing let me follow them along as they went kayaking on their favorite Black Hills lake – Center Lake in Custer State Park. Here is the video (and some photos, because I will never stop photographing) from that afternoon. 

Enjoy!

Towards the end of last year, I knew 2019 was going to be different. We were expecting our third child, and I didn’t have many weddings booked. I sort of shrugged it off, and figured God must want me to spend a lot of time ‘just being’ with the kids.

Then, in November, we found out that our growing baby had Trisomy 18 and wasn’t going to be with us for very long. All of a sudden, the only thing I wanted was to ‘just be’ with the kids. I didn’t care about how empty my calendar looked or what was happening on social media. All that mattered was our family and how we were going to get through this together.

Cecilia’s birth and death were very sudden, and while I mourned, I was so thankful for the support system around us. I felt like that dolphin whose baby died, and she and the rest of the pod took turns carrying it as they kept swimming. I didn’t have Cecilia’s body to hold, but our friends took turns carrying that weight of sorrow and walked alongside us as we moved forward.

“Yet something astounding happens amid this turmoil… our lives continue. Moments pile into a day, days into a week, and our lives continue on. There is a mysterious, unassuming tenacity to hope that lives beneath the rubble. This tenacious hope is Spirit-filled. God has placed this power in the depths of every human heart.” -Sr. Maria Kim Bui

The death of our child is not something we will ever get over. Cecilia is as much a part of us as any big life moment we’ve had together – meeting in college, moving to the Black Hills, getting married here… every moment we’ve had together, big or small, has made us who we are.

Losing Cecilia has made me want to be a better mother to our kids here on earth, a better wife to my husband, a better friend and person overall. I want to soak up as many moments with my family possible. I want to share the love we were given with anyone willing to receive it. I want to go on adventures instead of just thinking about them – even if they’re just small, everyday adventures.

So, what does all this mean for us? As of right now, we’re maximizing our time at home, preparing for our garden while catching snowflakes on our tongues. (Yes, it’s snowing in May. We’ve learned to appreciate what we are given on a daily basis.) We are also planning a bunch of family day-cations, making our weekends a bit more exciting.

The most obvious adventures for us are enjoying the outdoors – rain or snow or slush or sunshine!

Not-so-obvious adventures, like comforting each other in public restrooms, and cheering each other on while mastering new skills, make me a proud mama.

We almost always notice the dinosaurs when we’re in Rapid City, but one Sunday after church, we went up and met each one personally! It was such a fun adventure that the kids keep asking when we can do it again!

More indoor adventures… relaxing in a tote box, climbing at the Custer State Park Visitor Center, getting dizzy on a sit-n-spin, and nap-time bed head from adventuring so hard.

One of my highly-anticipated adventures: gardening!

Keeping Cecilia in our hearts and on our minds as we celebrate each day.

We wouldn’t be the adventurers we are if we took life too seriously!

And finally, what does all this adventuring and free time on my calendar mean for you? Stay tuned…

So much has happened since our last little (huge) life update. I don’t even know where to start, so I’ll pick up where we left off.

After we found out that our baby girl likely had Trisomy 18, we were sent to a specialist to confirm those findings, and to also monitor her growth via ultrasound. We got to see her sweet little cheeks, her tiny ears, her clenched fists, her cleft lip, her feet that always kicked me on the upper right side of my tummy.

Even though we knew her life could be complicated and short, she was still our beautiful baby girl on that ultrasound screen. She was so, so active, and she had her daddy’s large hat size just like her brother and sister – she even looked like both of them from certain angles.

We’ve experienced such an array of emotions.

Joy – Watching her rub her eyes and hide her face from the ultrasound technician. Watching Elodie’s eyes light up when she felt her sister kicking.

Confusion – Wondering how exactly her diagnosis would affect her. Some Trisomy 18 babies don’t make it through delivery. Some live for a few hours, days, weeks (probably with lots of help in the NICU). Some of the stronger ones live for months and even years (probably needing oxygen and/or feeding tubes). There was just no way of knowing her needs until she got here, but we had to try and prepare ourselves for every possible situation.

Sorrow – Just the thought of not being able to meet her alive broke my heart. 

Finally, at 33 weeks along in the pregnancy, baby girl decided it was time. Time for us to meet her and to stop worrying about all the ‘what if’s.

On Thursday, January 31st, in the evening, we checked in to the hospital and I labored through the night. We met with the neonatologists to discuss our wishes for baby girl. We prayed we would get to meet her alive and that she could meet her big sister and brother. We rested as much as we could. We decided on her name.

At 7:56am on February 1st, Cecilia Christine was born. She was given oxygen as the neonatologist declared her heartbeat not strong enough to intervene. She made the decision for us.

She was here, and she wanted nothing but our love and comfort.

We held her, we kissed her, Elodie counted all her fingers and toes. I couldn’t believe how much hair she had. Our priest was there to baptize and confirm her. My good friend Amy was there to photograph every single moment for us to cherish forever. 

At 10:15am they could no longer hear her heartbeat. We continued to hold her and love on her all day until it was time to send her to the funeral home, and we went back to our home to rest.

The next two days were a blur as family members traveled to be with us, and Elodie and Milo fought colds. There’s nothing that will bring you back to reality faster than caring for your other children!!

On Monday, we celebrated Cecilia’s short, perfect life at her funeral, surrounded by family, close friends, and co-workers. We picked readings that gave us strength and showed us God’s love in times of hardship. We had four priests who have been so dear to us on our journey both before and during our time with Cecilia. Fr. Brian Christensen, who was there with us in the delivery room, Fr. Matt Fallgren, who we see most every weekend in Hermosa, Fr. Michel Mulloy, who helped us prepare for marriage and also baptized Elodie, and Fr. Paul Rutten, who knew us in college and presided at our wedding.

At the burial, the sun peeked out, and the tiniest snowflakes sprinkled us all as we prayed over Cecilia’s body one last time. If you look to the West while standing at her grave, you’ll see a beautiful, sweeping view of the Black Hills. As lovely of a view that it is, I know her view in and from Heaven is even greater.

Thank you all for your love and support.

Thank you to our doctors and nurses who gave us comfort and confidence before and during our hospital stay.

Thank you to our ultrasound technicians who gave us the gift of seeing her so active and taking extra pictures of her sweet face.

Thank you to all who were able to join us on Monday to celebrate Cecilia’s life.

Thank you to all who continue to be with us and pray for us as we find our ‘new normal.’

While we will always miss our third child, we know that God’s plan is good, and we are so thankful to have had the time with Cecilia that we did. As we held our tiny, motionless baby in our arms, we understood that we didn’t have to worry about her anymore. She knew nothing but love, and as her heart beat for the last time, she was brought to the One whose love is greater.