Beauty Still Wins

When I was quite early in my pregnancy with Ewan -- long before we ever found out about his heart -- I found myself thinking about Eve a lot: specifically the curse. You know, the whole “I will surely multiply your pain in childbearing; in pain you shall bring forth children” thing.

I wrote in this post about how before I was pregnant, I thought that the increased pain referred primarily to childbirth (which it no doubt includes). But having had the perspective of being pregnant, I speculated that it also included several of the less pleasant sensations of pregnancy like nausea, hip pain, not being able to see your toes, and the incredible amount of effort it takes to pick up something you’ve dropped on the ground (again). Maybe it even includes dealing with strangers’ voiced suspicions that you’re expecting twins.

On our fridge

I speculated in this post about what an amazing thing it was that God didn’t do away with childbearing altogether. I mean, I suppose He could have axed the whole pregnancy thing if He wanted to curse the human race more completely. Having created them with His own two hands, their help certainly was not required. But childbearing was something He let them keep. He got the ball rolling, but left the work of making more humans up to them, and eventually to us. Adam and Eve were cursed, but they still got to be a part of something really good that God had started. It may have involved incredible pain, discomfort, and inconvenience, but there was still life. New life had not been done away with completely.

I closed the post with the following paragraph:

“And I wonder if Eve, in holding her children, thought what a terrible and beautiful thing it all was: the exquisite pain in bringing forth the delicate little life she held. I wonder if she looked at those little babes and thought in spite of the all the discomfort and pain that would be fresh in her memory: beauty still triumphs.”

I could not help but think of this post again recently, Ewan’s first birthday fresh in my mind. The exquisite pain of the past year is only too fresh: the body-wracking fits of tears, the depression that seemed endless, the turbulent waves of emotion, the need to deal with painful details and answering awkward questions. All of those things and more were part of the weight we carried. Yesterday I wrote about how beautiful a day Ewan’s birthday was, marked by gladness and gratitude, celebration and laughter. Without denying any of the gritty reality of what the past year has held, James and I were both able to say honestly that Ewan’s first birthday was a beautiful and happy day for us.

And so here they are again, side by side, held in tension with each other: beauty and pain. The presence of one will never negate or mollify the other. But it struck me this weekend that what I speculate of Eve’s thoughts in that final paragraph is true of mine: beauty still triumphs. Something ugly and terrible may have happened -- something that nobody wanted to happen -- but Ewan still exists.

He’s still here in a not-so-tangible but very real way. I can still sense his presence, his life, and his love. He is still a part of our day-to-day reality. The pictures of him that decorate our home call to mind his sweetness, his ferocity, and his life. He might not be right here, but he’s not gone either. And you know what that means? It means that at the end of the day, beauty still wins.

Ewan's 1st Birthday

I had no idea how I'd feel when I woke up yesterday.

I'm not the first mother I've known who, over the last several months, has marked the first birthday of a child she has lost. From what the mothers I know shared of their experiences, I had some ideas of what I might expect in terms of what I might feel. Never having celebrated a first birthday for a child of my own before, I had nothing to which I could compare it.

Writing the Photo Reflection series over this past week had me diving deep into some incredibly poignant and painful moments in the sixteen days that Ewan was with us, and in the many days that followed. The photos recalled memories not that had been forgotten, but that had faded in their particulars, lacking in the vivid detail that the photos inevitably sparked in my mind. In many ways, it seems like the events captured with our camera transpired decades ago and in others, it feels as fresh as yesterday. There were days I left my writing exhausted, weepy, and emotionally spent. It was not just about remembering things that had happened, but feeling all the things we did when it was all happening with the added weight of all we've experienced in the time that has passed since.

There were points during the week at week at which I looked ahead to Ewan's birthday with a sense of anxiety and foreboding. We weren't going to be there to visit Ewan ourselves. Instead of getting cake on his face with his parents capturing every moment, my one-year-old is buried some three thousand miles away from here. And here is another first we were missing out on. All of these things crossed my mind as Sunday approached.

But when the day came, it really did feel like a celebration. We were happy for the milestone. We felt grateful that his life was and is a part of ours, proud of who he is, and that he got to be ours. And oddly (or maybe not so oddly), I think the writing series of photo reflections and working on his tribute video -- delving into some key moments in our journey -- helped to make the day this way. The reflections recalled some painful moments, but they also reminded me of the beauty weaving through it all: a beautiful son who was so engaged with us at every moment, bringing more love into our lives than I could ever know what to do with. We both miss Ewan every moment of every day -- nothing is going to change that. But Ewan's birthday was a gift to us: a celebration of his life, a recognition of the beauty he brought into the world, and a day to be grateful for exactly who he was, is, and continues to be.

And you know what? I really could feel like he was celebrating and laughing, partying along with all of us. I'm a proud mama.

Seattle-Side
Back home in Washington state, my family and some of my friends were able to visit Ewan to mark the occasion, and they remembered and partied with Ewan, too. I sent some things to my Mom earlier this week so she could take them to the cemetery: a framed picture of his little sister, a T-shirt that proudly announces "I'm the birthday boy!", and a card. I also had flowers sent to mark the occasion.

Flowers, balloons, cupcakes, birthday attire, and a picture of his little sister -- all for the birthday boy!!

I have to think that heaven-side, Ewan was giggling and partying right along with us.
I think Kaari's words for this photo were:
"Sorry, Austen. You don't stand a chance of not being kooky."

Auntie Kaari and Grandpa Dale: getting cake on their faces in honor of the birthday boy

Florida-Side
We certainly had a party of our own! Our friends Kirk and Christianne joined us for a celebratory birthday lunch. Heavy rain stymied our plans to send Ewan his balloons from the park across the way, so we went back to eat some cake first instead. What can I say? Sometimes you've got to take one for the team!

We sang happy birthday ... (Ewan would approve of chocolate cupcakes, don't you think?)

And we ate cake!

... and eventually the clouds and rain cleared to allow us to send off the balloons.

And here they go ...

And they're off!!

... and everywhere else!
But the celebration didn't end there. There was a whole party going on online! I just have to say ... there are so many people out there who have never met us personally. But because they've followed Ewan's story, because they know what it's like to lose a child, because they are wonderful, because they care, and/or (did I mention that they're wonderful?) just because they didn't want us facing this alone -- made sure that we knew that they remembered Ewan, too. Many Facebook friends changed their profile pictures to pictures of Ewan. People left notes and beautiful birthday wishes on our wall, and on the Team Ewan page on Facebook. I got some of the most beautiful e-mails. It was, in a word or two, breathtaking and beautiful. And humbling.

So, thank you. Really, really. Thank you. You truly added to the beauty and goodness of the day.

Looks like there's plenty of candle left for another first birthday!

It makes us even prouder to call Ewan our son, and to call you our friends.

A Tribute for Ewan On His First Birthday

One year ago today, I met the most beautiful boy.

September 18, 2010, minutes after Ewan's birth

And my heart will never be the same.

Come, and remember with me for awhile.

** Video run time is approximately 8 - 1/2 minutes. Best viewed in full screen mode. **

To view in full screen mode:

1. Click the "Play" button on the video.

2. Click on the icon of four arrows just to the left of the "vimeo" logo in the lower right-hand corner.