Baby Braden Petska

Sunday, May 17, 2009

2 months......

Dear B,
I cannot believe today marks 2 months since we last held you, kissed you, and sadly had to let you go. The 17th used to be a day that marked your miraculous birth and now it brings on a whole new existence. It honestly feels like forever since we've last seen your sweet little face, embraced your presence, and heard your voice full of excitement with everything you said and did. You absolutley loved life and made us appreciate all of the little things that brought amazement and excitement to you everyday. Everywhere I go, I see you and find myself saying, "B would love that" or "I wish you were here pal." I find myself searching for ways to talk to you or reach you. Your gravesite is just too painful to visit. I get angry that it's there that I have to visit's just doesn't seem fair. I guess the best way is to continue to write to you and ask God to take care of you, give you kisses, and let you know that we love you and miss you so very much. I hope in future letters I can gain my strength by reminiscing of all the wondeful moments you brought to us in your short yet precious life. Today it brings me more tears, so bear with me for awhile pal. Not a day goes by where our hearts don't sit empty longing for you and your beautiful spirit.

Loving you, missing you, and holding you closer than ever to our hearts,
Mommy and Daddy

Braden and Auntie Marci

Sunday, May 10, 2009

Dear B,
As I sit here fumbling my way through writing this letter to you I am blinded by the many tears I shed for you. Tears that I shed for the pride you instilled in me as the biggest little hero I know....tears for the precious title you helped create for me, "mom".....tears for the heartache I feel knowing you are so far away.....tears for the emptiness I feel everyday as I deeply long for you and your daily gifts....tears for the moments when I beg God to give you back....tears for a day like today when I can only visit your picture and your gravesite and not hold you in my arms. Thank you for giving me the gift of motherhood - a gift no one can take away.

Until next time.....
Holding you closer than ever to my heart,
Your Mama

Monday, May 04, 2009

Good Afternoon B,
I pray that the sun is shining in heaven today and that you're enjoying all the fun ways the earth wakes up when spring arrives. I can't help but see the blooming flowers and know how much you'd love to smell them or remind me that the mourning doves sound like owls and how you'd want to go outside to ride your bus or motorcyle (tricylce). All of these moments can amazingly bring smiles even through the tears we continue to shed for your absence. Lately I've been able to dangle a toe outside of the denial and into the reality that you really aren't coming back. Although I have my sad days wishing so incredibly bad you were here, I've been able to think about so many of the memories you helped create in our hearts and minds. I want to replay those memories like a movie so many times in my head for fear one day I might forget a moment or how you said a particular word. Thank you for the precious mornings when daddy would wake you up and carry you to the kitchen. You'd stop by the bathroom so I could kiss you and we would exchange our "good mornings" to each other. You'd still have your eyes scrunched closed as the bathroom light was just too bright for you that early in the morning. Daddy would make what you requested whether it be eggs n' toast, waffles, or Auntie Marci's cereal. Whatever it was he would make would never compare to the donuts HE ate for breakfast. You would give daddy that impeccable grin, shrug your shoulders all cute and ask daddy with your high pitched voice, "Can I have a choc-o-late (said with the long "o" sound) donut?" You and daddy would watch WGN as you would wait for the fire engines and police cars - Chicago always had a morning accinent (how you would say it) for you to see. After you took your medicine so well, it was time for your vitamin. Because you would call it a dimamin, we had a chant to help you say it correctly. We'd pump our fists in the air and say, "vi-vi-vit-a-min" would get so excited, want more, and even request one at bed time. I would take you in your room to change you for the day and you'd request a firetruck or dino shirt and made sure I put your socks on before your pants - you'd even remind me about the socks if I put your pants on first. You sure were funny about your feet. At this point in the morning, we were running short on time. I had to quickly brush your teeth, get your coat on (you had to zip) and make sure your mittens stayed on. I had to "scoop" you up, get you down the stairs and in the car, because our mission each morning was to beat the bus. Some mornings we'd be late and get behind the bus and you'd yell, "Hurry up kids," so we could get to Grandma Lois's. We had our landmarks along the way.....the little airport, Uncle Nick's house, the crane in the field, and the cows at Deno's. The days the cows were full of snow you would tell me that Uncle Nick was going to brush the snow off of them. The days we couldn't see them, you would tell me they were hiding in the fog even when it wasn't foggy. You'd be so excited to see Grandma as she waited for you at the door. You would wish Grandma good morning and tell her you were fine when she'd ask how you were. Some days you would even tattle on the dog if he did something naughty at home. She knew you had waffles on the mornings you ate them as the syrup smell would never come off of your cheeks, hands, and sometimes your hair no matter how hard we scrubbed. You would go find your toys, books, or the latest craze....your Monster DVD's. You'd hop in the chair and wait patiently for grandma to put the DVD in. I made sure to give you kisses and a big monster hug before I left for work. There were days I'd leave so sad as I wished I could've stayed home with you to play or go to story hour with you on Thursdays. It'd break my heart when you'd ask if you were taking me to story hour with you. When I'd reply, "I can't pal." You'd tilt your head sideways and say with your sweet little voice, "Oh, you can't." Sigh....Those were our mornings and thanks B for giving me the strength today to share them. Until tonight when I whisper good-night, have fun playing "upstairs."

Keeping you closer than ever to our hearts,
Mommy and daddy

Dear faithful blog followers,
Today is a better day. Lately I've been dabbling more and more into "reality." Those are the excrutiatingly difficult parts of dealing with our new friend "grief." Even though they are the hardest moments, I find myself able to think more and more of the wonderful moments Braden gave us as parents. It's amazing how much love and new life a child's existence can bring into your own life. I know this new child we're bringing into our lives (in just weeks) will create a new form of love and new life Rich and I are ready to embrace. We know the emptiness that is still so fresh and sits so heavily within will still live there, but it's comforting to know that fresh hope and a new joy is right around the corner and will soon be in our arms.

Thank you for your prayers and reaching out to us in various ways - it means so much to have an amazing support system who cares so much about us.