Carter's Page

Happy Birthday

2008-03-09T05:12:00.000-07:00

Today is Carter's birthday; he would turn two. Every once in awhile I see a little boy, and I think "Carter would have looked sort of like that." I wonder if he is celebrating up there, if someone has thrown him a great big party with balloons and cake and punch. I wonder if they know up there how lucky they are to have him. Today we will go to St. Joe. We will visit his grave and bring him presents. Then we will go to Gary's Dad's to be with family. We didn't want to throw some awkward birthday party, but we wanted to be with the people who we'd be with anyway today. So that's what we'll do.
I guess I will update you on our lives. Charlotte Jane was born Friday, October 19, 2007. She was 6 lbs, 12 oz and 19 inches long...a beautiful little girl. They gave us a big room just down from the NICU, so we had lots of Carter's nurses visit us, which was so very nice. She gave us a bit of a scare in her first few days, as she was quite jaundiced. Turns out she's perfectly healthy, and today, at 4 1/2 months, weighs nearly 15 lbs!! She has the best nature--she laughs and smiles and sleeps through the night. Sometimes she stares off up at the ceiling and smiles. I imagine she's watching her big brother make faces at her. Maybe he sings to her. Maybe I'm crazy, but it helps...
We are doing good these days, although the past week or two have seemed pretty hard for me. I now do a lot of driving, and I find myself thinking of him most of the time. You know, Charlotte is a perfect little girl, and we love her completely. But having her makes us realize just how special Carter was. She has this sweet, happy spirit. She is everything that a baby should be. But he was different. From the day he was born everyone said so. He had these eyes which seemed so deep and thoughtful. It was as if he knew something the rest of us did not. People said he looked so wise, and we called him our wise old man. I think he he was an old soul in just two and a half months. Things that take most of us a lifetime to learn, he accomplished within just 10 weeks. Looking at Charlotte's sparkling, innocent eyes, I can see the difference.
Thank you for thinking of our Carter today, for thinking of us.

New

2007-09-12T11:33:00.000-07:00

Nearly six months have passed since we've posted anything. So much is happening in our lives, and Carter's story continues to touch hearts. We bought a small house in Liberty back in April, and Gary has spent many hours painting and adding personal touches to our new home.
As we mentioned months ago, we are expecting another baby. Charlotte Jane Heckman is slated to be born in just a few short weeks (scheduled for October 19 at KU). We've been decorating the nursery--lots of pink! As always, we get excellent care at KU, and so far everything has gone great. She seems perfectly healthy, and she doesn't appear to be a small baby--momma's been feeding her well already! It's hard to trust that everything will be fine, as we thought Carter was healthy at this point, too. We are nearly certain that it is a rare genetic problem that caused Carter's illness, but it is worse in boys than girls, so this is reassuring. Right now, we are looking forward to our new baby girl's arrival. Carter would have been an amazing big brother, and we would have had the perfect family. Some days the "would have beens" get the best of me...
There is also another baby in the family. Geoff (Gary's brother) and his wife, Emily, have a baby girl, born May 19th. It was perfect timing, coming just before the one year anniversary of Carter's passing. Kendall Paige brings us all so much to be thankful for--she's a beautiful little girl full of smiles and giggles. Sometimes she looks so much like Carter. We love her so much. She and Charlotte will be exactly five months apart and will get to grow up together.
We have started attending Liberty Christian Fellowship church. We've been going the past few months and really like it. I must admit that it is still hard to sing some of the lines of songs in worship, and some Sundays I have to force myself to go. Gary is such a strong man of God, and although I know he, too, struggles with the "whys", he clings to his faith and encourages me along the way.
Speaking of Gary, he is singing in a new group, Soul Harvest Quartet. He really enjoys it, and it has been a great outlet for him. I go along most of the time and enjoy watching him, and soon Charlotte will be right there, cheering for her Daddy, just as I know Carter is doing from Heaven.
We celebrated our five year anniversary last weekend. Our lives certainly have been different than what we ever could have imagined. Yet I'm so thankful to be married to such an amazing man.
Thank you for continuing to care about our family, and for loving our little boy. My heart still aches for him, and I still find myself clinging to each dream, each memory, each thought of my Carter. We've brought out several of his things for Charlotte to use when she arrives. One in particular is the Ladybug book. I look forward to reading it to Charlotte and telling her stories of her big brother. I realized this morning, as I watched my belly take new shapes with each little wriggle and squirm, that I love her. It was the most wonderful feeling. I know Carter would love her, too.

2007-03-16T08:20:00.000-07:00

Carter would have turned one year old last Friday. It was a special day for Gary and me, as we spent some time at the cemetery in the morning (Carter was born at 9:43 a.m.), then took some time to be together in the afternoon. Friday night, our families came over to honor Carter. We had cake and punch, looked at photos, and watched the video of Carter. Although my heart longed to be laughing and celebrating as we watched our little boy open gifts and tear into his first cake, having our families with us and remembering our sweet Carter made the day complete.
This is, of course, not how I would have liked to spend the day, or the last 10 months. I miss him terribly, and the ache in my soul is still present and strong. There are moments when I realize that I've not cried in days, and I think to myself I might be starting to heal. Then there are moments when my sobs return uncontrollably. Sometimes I almost think I can feel his soft cheek or hear his gentle coos. Some nights I cradle the air in my arms and imagine my Carter nestled peacefully instead. But Friday was not one of those days, and the reason was simple.
God is amazing. Even after months of my cold shoulder, he is still reaching out through the love of others to make his presence known to me. God, knowing how much we would need him on Carter's birthday, sent a vision to an earthly angel. Kathy Parker, a member of the Liberty First Christian Church, decided to hold a 24 hour prayer vigil for our family from midnight-midnight on March 9. Friends and church members, many of whom I do not know, signed up for 30 minute time slots to pray for peace and comfort on a day that could otherwise have been filled with grief and sadness. So, to Kathy and her husband, Keith, and to the nearly 50 other friends and strangers who lifted up faithful prayers for us, THANK YOU. From the bottom of our hearts--we felt the peace and loving arms of our Father holding us up on that day. We know, too, that many others thought of us that day. God has certainly surrounded us with love and support.
p.s.--please continue to check Landon's site, www.caringbridge.org/visit/landondody and pray for him and his family. He has taken a bad turn, and although the words written by his parents sound so very familiar, we must all pray for his healing. Thanks!
p.p.s.--We recently learned that we are once again expecting!! Carter will be a big brother sometime around the end of October! This is both exciting and terrifying, as we know there could be genetic complications. Please pray for a healthy baby and a healthy pregnancy. My heart seems to be struggling a bit, and I've already been in the hospital once. My doctors are the best, though, and we are believing that all will be well.

2007-02-20T20:20:00.000-08:00

It's been nearly a year since Carter's birth, and so many of you still look here with love and care for our family. From the bottom of our hearts, THANK YOU. But now, we ask for your help once again. There is a family in need of prayers. Last January, Blythe and Aron Daly lost a child, a baby boy, born still. His name was Lawson. God has given them another baby boy, born with some problems. His name is Landon. They are keeping a blog, and we would like to pass it along to you. Please visit it and read their story and see pictures of adorable Landon. And then pass it along to everyone you know.
www.caringbridge.org/visit/landondody
P.S. We are doing alright. I know you are wondering, and waiting for some news. Are hearts are broken and we don't know how to fix them, but we are slowly learning to deal with our reality. We cling to each other, and we try to stay fixed on the hope that God promises us--1) we will one day be reunited with our Carter for all of eternity and 2) He still has good things in store for us. Thank you again for being a part of Carter's story.

Beautiful

2007-02-15T20:37:00.000-08:00

Our beautiful baby boy.

Bracelets

2006-12-20T20:20:00.000-08:00

Hey everyone we just received 100 bracelets. So we will get with those of you that have requested one and if anyone else is interested, just let us know. Once again, any donations for the bracelets will go to Ian's liver transplant fund. Read the blog below for more information. Thank you all.

Ian's Story

2006-12-07T18:16:00.000-08:00

Through surfing the internet, I discovered a boy named Ian Herbst. He is about a year and a half old and was diagnosed with biliary atresia. As most of you know, that is the disease Carter was diagnosed with. Doctors have recommended a liver transplant to save his life. As Sarah and I have found, this is a very expensive procedure. It is estimated at $100,000. They are very close to their goal with the help of many wonderfully generous people. We contacted the person in charge of his fundraising campaign with an idea. A couple of months ago, we had bracelets made with Carter's name on them so we might have a constant reminder of our beloved son. We also gave them to our family and in the process some friends have requested them. We are going to make these available to anyone who wants one. If you would like to make a donation for the bracelet, all of the money will go to help Ian get his transplant. This is a great way to celebrate Carter's life and in the process, give to another to preserve a precious life. As you know, there are many internet scams out there and one has to be careful. I encourage you to go the site yourself to read Ian's story and investigate it if you are unsure. www.ianfund.com If you find yourself inclined to help, you can let us know through posting comments, e-mailing us, or calling. Below is a picture of the bracelet.

New Room

2006-11-02T20:00:00.000-08:00

We've had the door to his room closed for nearly 5 months. And, as much as I could have kept avoiding it, Gary knew it was time. He had an idea to turn Carter's room into a special place, functional yet healing. So, we got boxes. We needed eight big tubs to contain all of the stuff. Blankets, clothes, stuffed animals, and memories. We will sort through most of it later, but we kept out a few special items.
Anyway, we took out the crib, moved the changing table across the room, and added a desk. We turned his closet into a tall bookcase, and we placed some of those special things in the room to remind us of him. This is our new favorite place. It doesn't hurt now to go into this room. I feel an incredible sense of peace knowing that I'm surrounded by his things.
Here are a few pictures of the old nursery:

And here is the room as it is today:

Kindness

2006-10-26T07:02:00.000-07:00

I met a woman today. I was at work, making drinks and smalltalk with a guest when she asked me if I had children. This is a difficult question to answer, and I struggle with it each time it's asked. Do I say yes, and hopefully leave it at that? Do I say no, and completely discount the amazing little life of my Carter? Or, do I say yes, and briefly explain my loss. This time, I chose option 3. So, I said, "Yes, I had a baby, but he passed away." Usually when I answer in this way, I get a sympathetic but stunned response--something quick like "Oh, I'm so sorry," and then they rush away, eager to avoid the messiness of caring.
This woman was different, however. Her face turned from cordial to compassionate. In an instant we became soul friends, her empathy and heartfelt concern so evident in the way her eyes met mine. It is difficult to put words to this moment (yes, even for me!). There are very few interactions that touch me with such warmth. We visited for a few minutes, this stranger taking time from her shopping to simply care. She asked about him, which meant more to me than anything. So many times, people are polite, and they ask how I'm doing. This kind woman acknowledged Carter, putting meaning to his life. She and her family left, and then a few minutes later, she returned to ask my name. We spoke for a short time, and then she left again. Thank you, Deanna, for your sincerity and kindness. I hope to see you again.
Carter touched many lives, but there are a few special people whose souls are forever tied to my own, those people who continue to care, continue to make Carter's legacy part of their everyday lives. Thank you, dear ones, for taking my child into your heart and loving others with a vitality that mirrors Carter's courageous spirit.

People Hurt for a Reason

2006-10-06T17:13:00.000-07:00

I was watching TV thursday night and my wife's favorite show came on "Grey's Anatomy". I'm not a fan of the show but if you are, you might recognize familiar coined phrases and names such as "Dr. McDreamy". I watched reluctantly as I was caught entranced by the story of a little girl in the show. She had a condition where she could not physically feel pain. At first the doctor's did not know what was wrong because she had multiple cuts and bruises. After testing her pain threshold it was apparent that she could not feel pain. Therefore she continued to get injured without calling attention to herself. The doctor discovered she was bleeding internally from multiple injuries. The little girl did not want to go into surgery. She felt no pain so she did not see the need for it. While in surgery, one of the doctors said "there's a reason people feel pain". That struck me the instant I heard it. I think sometimes I intentionally supress what I am truly feeling in order to not feel pain. Unfortunately, that doesn't mean something isn't wrong. Something is wrong. I should have a son here with me now. But I don't. I think we have to let ourselves hurt in order to know something is wrong and that we need help. Just like the little girl in the show, I have to give in to those who want to help me even if my feelings are now suppressed so that I can get better.

Weird Day

2006-09-09T19:12:00.000-07:00

Today was a very strange day. Sarah and I had planned on going to the cemetary today as Carter would have been 6 months old today. But instead Sarah was in the hospital for a few hours. We are home now but her heart was not ticking correctly so we had to go get it fixed. Unselfishly she told me she did not want to go to the hospital but instead to visit Carter's grave. (For those that don't know, that's Sarah) But I convinced her (along with a nurses advice) to go. The whole time she didn't complain about discomfort or ask "why me?". She was calm, polite, and patient as each doctor, nurse, and technition came in to do their job. That must have been where Carter got it from. I hope someday I learn and practice these traits posessed by my two favorite people.
Happy 6 months Carter. Mom and Dad love you.

Passing Time

2006-08-21T20:19:00.000-07:00

Carter has now been gone for three months. It hardly seems possible. Gary and I are getting by. We got a new mattress so we'd hopefully finally get some sleep, but so far it's not working. We both manage through our days. We find happiness in small things, but we still feel the emptiness in our hearts.
Carter's room is closed. We haven't been in there in a long time. There's this candle that Aunt Annetta gave Carter that smells like baby powder, and every now and then I get a whiff of it as I pass by. It rips my soul apart; they say scent is the most powerful memory sense.
I went to KU the other day to visit. I got to see Kim and Amanda. That was just what I needed. I love you girls dearly; you do so much good. I also got to see Sheldon, the famous doorman--Sheldon, you DO make a difference around that place. I got to see Mary and Cynthia, who are kind and caring like always. I also got to see Amanda, who was my nurse the morning Carter was born. She'd come in the NICU to visit us every few days.
I got to visit with Dr. Raghuveer, our angel. (Dr. Raghu, if you read this, know I am eternally grateful for all you've done for Carter and us.) He was the one who noticed a problem and diligently fought for him. He was the one who "appeared" that last day. And then, when I came to visit last week, I got to sit down with him for quite awhile. He wanted me to tell Carter's story to an intern. I was amazed that he remembered all the details of his story and cared so much. But I shouldn't be surprised, everyone we encountered there truly loved Carter and did all they could for him.
After that, I went over to the OBGYN office to say hello to all the people who cared for me while I was pregnant. They hadn't heard about Carter. Sharon, Theresa, and Dr. Myers were so kind. Dr. Myers reassured me that Carter's problems were not the result of something I did wrong during my pregnancy. In my mind, I know he's right. But in my heart I will always wonder.
It was just so good to be there. I feel so connected to Carter there, as strange as that sounds. One night, a few weeks ago, I found myself driving over there. I drove to the top of the parking garage and sat for the longest time just looking up at the NICU windows. I know being there doesn't bring him back, but it comes closer than anything else I've found. I just miss him so much. Everyone says our lives will go on. Time passes, but I can hardly call it life.
Thank you for continuing to check our page. Your love and support have carried us through these past months. I cannot tell you when we will post again. We will continue to post pictures of our beautiful boy from time to time. Tell his story. Tell others about the sweet little baby whose infectious smile and big brown eyes touched hearts across the nation.

2006-08-07T22:44:00.000-07:00

I rediscovered this picture a couple of weeks ago and fell in love with it. We have it on our desktop at home and it's on my desk at work.
It captures the sweet face of Carter in peaceful sleep.

Angel Wings

2006-07-22T07:42:00.000-07:00

My Carter,
This is one of my favorite pictures of you. You look so peaceful, and your blanket seems to give you angel wings. You gave me so much joy while you were here with me. Every little smile, each soft coo, and even the silly faces you'd make are forever etched in my heart. You've been gone from this world for two months now. I wonder what you are doing. I imagine you are having so much fun and getting cuddled and loved and hugged by all those special people in heaven. I miss you so much, sweet baby.
With all my love,
Mommy

Broken Heart

2006-07-17T20:17:00.000-07:00

I broke my heart. A few weeks ago, as I was attempting to latch the chain for my locket, I lost my hold. The locket fell to the floor, and in a way that only a true clutz could do, as I bent to look for it, I heard a crunch. I'd stepped right on my beautiful locket. My dearest reminder of my little boy lay flattened and broken.
So, I did what any girl with a broken heart would do--I took it to my Dad for him to fix. He has an uncanny ability to repair just about anything. As I handed him the locket, I had complete confidence that he could fix it. I left it with him for just a few short minutes. When he returned it to me, it was indeed "fixed"--it opened and closed as it had before!
My Dad had mended my broken heart. Sure, it was still a little flat and slightly scratched, but it was fixed. It would never again look shiny and new, but it worked. The locket now stays latched most of the time, and I can open it anytime to see that sweet face smiling back at me.
As I think of my locket, I am reminded of my Heavenly Father. Just like my Dad, He can fix my broken heart. He's the only one who can. And, just like my Dad, he longs for the moment when I let him help me. My Dad has never been one to need grand accolades; simply knowing he'd made it better was always enough. I know in all of this he must ache for his daughter, wanting desperately to take my pain away. God is like that, I know. Dad gave me a book called When God Doesn't Make Sense. I put it on the shelf that day and it has remained there ever since. I began reading it tonight.
So tonight I do that which my soul has longed to do for the past two months and my mind has resisted. I cry out to my Father--
Oh God, I am broken. My heart is crushed from the weight of this loss. It has been so long since I last saw my precious baby boy. Far too many days have passed since I touched his sweet face, held him in my arms, and felt his fingers wrapped around my own. My heart shattered into a million little pieces each time I walked away from him. That night as I left the hospital, then again at the funeral before they closed him in. More and more shards of my once whole heart fall each time I leave his grave. Fix it, God. Fix me. Put my heart back together again. I know it will never be shiny and new. I know it will be scratched and scarred forever, but please, God, let it open to love, to light, to life.
I do still believe in You, and I do still want You--still need You to comfort me. I don't understand, God. I don't know why it was my son, my little Carter, who had to die. It's so hard to imagine him now, and yet I believe he must be with You. He deserves every joy, every luxury, and every bit of love in the whole world. It's You, God, who can give that to him. I'm glad he's with You, it's the best place to be. But I miss him. So take good care of him. Spoil him, shower him with all the love in heaven. Teach him to mind his manners, to play fair, and to be a little gentleman. Let him play in the mud, splash in the puddles, and build great big blanket forts. Tell him his mommy and daddy love him much and will see him soon.
Thank You--for waiting patiently for me to come to You, for slowly working your way back into my life in ways I simply could not resist. I see You in the many friends who have shown so much love. I see You in Morgan, who said with 2-year-old simplicity that the face in the picture was Jesus, not baby Carter as our adult eyes see. And I see You in my moments of deepest desperation when, without even realizing, I cry out to You. And although I don't understand Your ways, I have to give my heart back to You--I cannot take the pain alone anymore. Amen.

2006-07-13T15:16:00.000-07:00

Because of everyone's generousity, we were able to get a grave marker for Carter that shows how precious he was to us. Thank you.

Goodnight Sweetheart

2006-07-08T19:11:00.000-07:00

Sarah is babysitting Morgan tonight so I am home alone. It's funny how spending some time without someone makes you realize how much you love them. It's as if part of you is missing and you just don't function as well. I think Sarah and I are both at that point. We just don't seem to be ourselves and feel like we are wandering. I told her a few days ago that I don't know what to do. The last year has been spent making plans for our life with Carter. Now, what am I supposed to be looking forward to? Don't get me wrong. I love my wife dearly and look forward to spending the rest of my life with her. It's not easy "moving on". In fact, it's terrifying. Answers come easy to some. But this is life and believe me, there are no easy black and white answers. It's just hard.
Sarah has a job now (I'll let her give details). We have even talked about looking for a house. It would appear a new beginning. But part of us is missing and we don't function as well without Carter. Every thought of my precious son reminds me of how much we've lost.
Life will get better eventually. We will get better. The savior's hands are always there and we know that. So, goodnight my wonderful wife as I know thoughts of our precious son are with you now as well.

Reminders

2006-06-22T04:49:00.000-07:00

It has been a month. I don't know if it feels like it all happened just yesterday, or if it feels like a lifetime ago--sometimes both, I guess. But it's been a month. A month. A month since I saw those eyes. A month since I held that sweet little body in my arms. A month without hope.
My world came to a screeching halt that day. Everything that ever meant anything smashed into the wall of time and broke into a million pieces, scattering around like leaves. Have you ever watched one of those movies where, when something big happens, the whole scene freezes, and the camera sort of circles the main character, while everything around her looms in strange stillness? It seems as if I'm stuck in that frame. This fuzzy, dark, dizzying stillness consumes my world now, especially today, as my mind replays the horrors of my sweet baby's last moments.
I will go to his grave today. I think I will bring him a gift, something he would have liked to play with at 3 1/2 months. I will tell him I miss him. I will tell him stories about his daddy making songs on his guitar. I will ask him how his new home is, and smile as I think of his cousin Morgan and friend Ella's innocent concern for him and simple understanding of his new heavenly home. I will have to leave him again. I will have to say goodbye and walk away, another reminder that the world does indeed go on despite the stillness that consumes me.
Gary and I have gotten several beautiful gifts to remind us of his precious life. His mom got him a keychain engraved with the words CARTER'S DAD. It has a place to put a picture. Jenny gave me a charm bracelet with three charms: a cross, a mother and baby, and a baby shoe engraved with his name and birthdate. I wear it each day, along with my locket. It's my way of keeping him close to me.
Today will come and go, just like that terrible day that forever changed my heart, my viewpoint, and my very being. A new day will come, and life will go on. But, if you get a chance, think of him today. Think back to the moment you met him, or first heard his story. Think of his smile, his sweet personality, his amazing ability to light up a room.
My beautiful Carter, I think of you constantly. I love you so very much. I know you are happy and healthy now, laughing and playing with the angels. I will hold you forever in my heart, sweet baby. You gave me true joy, do you know that? Do you know how precious and perfect you are? Do you know that you melted my heart with that ornery little smirk, those bright and inquisitive eyes, and your adorable babytalk? I miss you so much, but I'm trying not to be sad. You are in heaven, and Mommy and Daddy will see you again. For now, we will have to settle for these talks. I cannot wait to hear your stories, to know what you're doing up there. I imagine you perched someplace where you can see everything around you, kicked back and comfy. Every now and then you probably call out to someone passing by--a girl perhaps--with your Joey-style "how you doin?" You used to sit that way and talk to the nurses. I know they miss you, too. We all do. You be good up there--mind your manners, help out wherever you can, and have fun. I'll talk to you again soon. I love you.

He Knows

2006-06-20T21:11:00.000-07:00

I went back to work on Monday. It seems the road back to normal has brought me closer to reality. I find myself thinking more about Carter. I miss him a lot more now. Some people say they know how I feel and some say they cannot imagine. The truth is, any loss hurts and is deep and painful. But every hurt is different. It's hard to take comfort in your pain when no one can truly relate to your personal experience.
Sitting at home tonight I began to think about how Jesus connects in all of this. What came to my mind was Isaiah 53:4. In it, Isaiah is speaking of the coming Messiah, Jesus. "Surely our griefs He Himself bore, and our sorrows He carried" In my Bible it states that the word sorrows is used in Hebrew of both physical and mental pain. What that means to me is that Jesus cared enough about me to experience my pain. You can't get a much closer friend than one who willingly experiences your physical and mental pain in order to show their love. I thank God He reminded me of this scripture tonight. If you are reading this and experiencing pain of your own, let this bring you some peace like it did me. Jesus really does know how you feel.

Happy Father's Day

2006-06-18T17:03:00.000-07:00

Happy Father's Day to all dads.

2006-06-15T20:11:00.000-07:00

Sarah and I spent a little time looking at pictures of Carter. We laughed and smiled as we were reminded of his many expressions. I wanted to use this entry to let you all do the same. So here are some pictures of Carter you may not have seen.

What...

2006-06-14T00:05:00.000-07:00

I miss him. Everywhere I turn there are reminders. Babies in their carriers at a restaurant, pregnant women eagerly looking at diapers and little clothes in the store. I try to be happy for them, but honestly I just want to scream.
I watched the last video tonight. It was taken Saturday night, May 20th. He was sick, and he looked tired. It was so hard to watch. I spent that night on the phone with Tiffiny, crying because I knew it was bad. Then Dad came--Gary and I walked into the NICU after getting a snack, to find Carter in the arms of his Papa. We talked for hours as he held him, and I will cherish that time forever, as I'm sure he will. I saw that night the love of a dad for his daughter and a grandpa for his grandson.
I remember that I took the video that evening, as well as the last picture we have of Carter. Then I stood by his crib and sobbed for my child. But he'd pull through this time, too....that's what I told myself that night.
I titled this post "What"--
What happens now? What's left of who I am? What is it going to take to be able to go on? What do I do with my time? What is the answer to the "do you have any children" question? What could possibly help to heal this horrible pain? What if we have no more children and i never know what it's like to hold my baby again? What amount of time is "right" before we do? What is the reason for all of this? What was God thinking when he gave us a baby to fall so in love with, and then chose not to heal? What could have been done differently? What if?
I know all of that sounds so sad and depressing, but these are the things that go through my mind. It's not pretty or eloquent, it's just me, broken and crushed. I'm so sad for him.
I realize that I know the answers to a few of the questions. Life goes on. It takes time. I'll get a job and even be able to find an answer to the probing questions. Only God knows what the future holds.
Things always could have been done differently, but I am trying to convince myself to acknowledge that the result would have been the same. Carter was just too sick. He had too many problems. Even if he would have gotten a transplant, the damage had been done. He was so small and his little body would have had a lot of trouble with such a big surgery. He passed away as a result of liver failure, kidney failure, and stroke.
God took him away from his pain. I try to picture God watching everything unfold. That last day was just too much. God loved Carter, and he just couldn't see him suffer anymore. He knew his life would be so hard if he survived--he'd be on medicines forever, would not get to have a "normal" life, would be small and sickly, never get to eat a normal diet, and have to watch life from the sidelines. Now he is in heaven, really living. I don't know what it's like, if he's a baby or a 5 year old or a grown up. Or perhaps some form that has no age. But I do know it has to be perfect.
And I know that Carter affected so many with his smile, his big, brown eyes, and his courage. I'm happy for those of you who were touched by his story, and I know that he's a "testimony"--a word I've come to dispise. I am proud of him, I'm proud to be Carter's Mommy.
But I miss him. It's 2:30 a.m. and I just cannot sleep. You've read this many times before...but it doesn't get any easier. Maybe it's even getting more difficult. The shock is wearing off and I'm just here, alone, without my baby. I would give anything, do anything, to change it. To have just a little more time with him.
That's my regret. Everyone says you can't do that, it's not healthy to question. But I look at all the time I chose not to be with him, when people would visit, so I'd sit in the waiting room with them and talk and laugh, instead of being with him. The last day, when I went to take a shower instead of holding him. I will regret that shower for the rest of my life. Don't tell me not to. I just will.
Tomorrow we go to the funeral home to decide on a stone. We hope we can put the last line of the ladybug book that we read to him and was read at his funeral:

Carter Maxwell Heckman

...you flew so fast. Now you can rest, home at last!

March 9, 2006 - May 22, 2006

34

2006-06-12T21:13:00.000-07:00

Well today was my 34th birthday. It went fast but it was nice. Several of my family and friends came by to celebrate with me this evening. I grilled hamburgers and hot dogs and Sarah made a delicious German chocolate cake.
I thought about Carter a lot tonight as I sat back and observed conversation. It seems I am missing him more and more as the days go by. You see, he was our future and what I was looking forward to. And now with that gone I seem to be lost in what to do next. I start back to work next Monday and life will be back to somewhat normal.
I don't do well with sharing how I feel about this but felt compelled to write tonight. Next Sunday is Father's Day. I do pretty well with seeing babies and even admiring them. I don't know how I will feel on Father's day. I keep telling myself that Carter was an unexpected gift so I shouldn't feel like I was somehow cheated. But I think that sometimes I just put on the "we were just blessed to have had him for 2 months" face without allowing myself to be upset. I forget, sometimes, how precious he was. I look at his pictures and it seems like it wasn't real. I really tried to make each moment I had with him last. I remember holding him in the middle of the night at home telling myself, "just hold on to right now". But it's not sticking in my mind like I had hoped. I do miss him. He was MY son. And that's something that was and still is hard for me to grasp. Something this wonderful was mine. This probably doesn't make any sense to anyone else. Anyway, I just had to get this out tonight and I'm glad I did. It helps when I'm honest with myself about how I feel.

God Bless The Staff at KU Med

2006-06-07T19:07:00.000-07:00

Everyone has been tremendously supportive throughout this time for Sarah and I. But I want to put the spotlight on the staff of KU Medical Center in this entry.
Everyone has stories to tell of their experiences at hospitals. We would like to let you know of the wonderful people we encountered during Carter's stay.
Several of the nurses in the NICU came up to Carter's visitation and funeral. It means so much to know that our son meant enough to them that they would want to be there. So many times during Carter's stay at KU, the nurses would come over just to see him or talk to us. Even the nurse who was in the operating room during his birth would come over from time to time. Many have given us phone numbers, e-mails etc. Wow! To all of them we say, thank you and God bless you. We received two cards from the staff today loaded with notes and comments from doctors and nurses. They talk of how Carter has touched them. They say how "wonderful" of parents we were. We just loved our boy and wanted to spend every moment we could with him. The nurses and doctors were the ones that worked so hard to bring him back to health. They were the ones who brought him back to life for us if even for a few more hours. Those hours were a gift that we are forever grateful for. Thank you. I want to also say thank you to Doctors Schropp, Raguveer, Clark, "Ola", and Cocjin. We know you worked very hard to make Carter well. I could see in each of your eyes that Carter held a special place with you. I wish I could name all of the nurses but there are so many, I'm afraid I would forget someone. So, again we say thank you. We WILL keep in touch.

It Helps

2006-06-05T17:07:00.000-07:00

Your comments and prayers mean so much to us both. I (Sarah) perhaps feel it more because I'm generally the one writing and written to, but Gary gains much strength from your care as well. Thank you all for your love. It helps more than you will ever know, and through your kind words on here, in the cards, and in person, I am beginning to see God's love in all of this. Thank you.