my missing daughter

it's not that you are not here

it's that you are absent

you should be here

your smile

what you might say

i walk incomplete

my loss is greater

each day that i am deprived of you

i mourn every would-be milestone

in my mind you are two years and three months old right now

i know i am missing-out on a lot

like putting bows in your thin brown hair

next year, at about this time, i'd teach you how to write your name

but i'll save those tears for then

today i'll cry about bows

 

El Camino Real

I was driving back from my son’s piano class [La Costa Music Studio, 7760 El Camino Real] on El Camino Real when I took a step back and saw my life as a series of events that took me up and down this road, around it, and back again. Like I moved a lot but never went anywhere. Just back and forth and in circles.  

The street El Camino Real has historical significance that dates back to the Spanish colonization of California.  “El Camino Real (Spanish for The Royal Road) usually refers to the 600-mile California Mission Trail, connecting California's 21 missions.” (Wikipedia)

Typically, I would take the freeway but this day I continued on El Camino Real to take a trip through my life in pictures, short clips that represented nearly every stage of my life.

 I drove past Olympic Resort and Spa [6111 El Camino Real].

~It is July 18^th 1998. I’m 20 years old and it’s the money dance at my wedding reception. I can’t dance but it doesn’t matter because my dress covers my feet and I am so happy. My parents are together, my tio German is there. Eloy’s hair is long, combed back and I have no idea that I didn’t pack any shoes for my honeymoon.

I drove past Chestnut Avenue that takes me to Carlsbad High School, the apartments on Monroe Street, Holiday park, and the yellow house in Carlsbad that my grandparents lived at through my childhood.

~It is 1995, I’m 16 years old and I’m waiting in the front of the school for my mom. Nora wants me to cross the street with her. Joe bought a bag of chips with hot sauce to share. I pick the plain ones while he eats the ones with the most hot sauce.

~The Monroe Street apartments we once lived at are across the street from Carlsbad High school. This time I am 7 years old and the neighbors gave Jason and I smores to try for the first time. We have a parrot and my tia Aly, 11, walks J and I across the street to the pool.

~Jason and I walk on the logs that surround the playground at holiday park while my mom chats with a friend at a picnic table. The upright logs vary in height, and walking on them, around the park, is an adventure.

~I am 13 years old and I feel sick at school. My abuelito Otilio picks me up from school early, takes me to his house and makes breakfast for me. Eggs. I didn’t think I liked them until that day.

 I drive past El Camino Real mall [2525 El Camino Real].

~Junko, Dulcinea and I walk around, shop, buy a pretzel, laugh at anything, start conversations with strangers, check out boys.

~My dad is teaching me how to drive stick shift in the empty mall parking lot.

~Eloy opens the door to his blue mazda for me to get in and kisses me, for the first time, on my forehead.

I drive past the mall and onto west 78, I can see El Torito on my right hand side.

~I’m 17 and its my first real date with Eloy.

I'm heading home now, but in my mind I continue northbound on El Camino Real.

Down a little further there is a Target and Del Taco.

~Josiah is 5, Ethan is 2 (going on three) and Ava is 4 months old. I bought chicken soft tacos and I parked in the far corner of the Target parking lot where there’s a grassy area with trees. Josiah and Ethan eat on the grass while I nurse Ava inside the car, she’s pulling on my blouse.

1999 El Camino Real, Eternal Hills Memorial Park.

~I put on my jean jacket as I step out of the car, it is April 17, 2007 and it is very windy. Jason is helping to carry Ava’s tiny coffin to the gravesite. I walk past everyone without taking notice of who is actually there. I sit with Eloy, Josiah, and Ethan in the front row of chairs where she would be buried.

~She has been lowered and roses are being passed out to be dropped in. I take one too, and consider jumping in. The roses are pink, large and beautiful-- but pale in comparison to how beautiful my daughter looked even on this day.

It is Easter and we are at Mission San Luis Rey.

~I am a toddler and someone takes pictures of me with my Easter basket, with my grandma who is young, with my mom who looks like a teenager.

Oceanside Family Fellowship Church [444 N. El Camino Real].

~I am teaching Sunday school, and I’m in charge of the children’s department, making schedules, copies, play-dough.

~It is my wedding day, my dad walks me upstairs. Emmanuel doesn’t want to take the rings down the aisle. Joe stops me, to cover my face with my veil, right before I walk into the sanctuary and down the aisle.

~It is last Saturday, I arrive late to church, and I leave without talking to anybody. I don’t know half of my fellow-church-members’ names.  

Since that long drive, I continue to find more and more connections to this street and continue to move about it. 

Carlsbad Unified School District [6225 El Camino Real] hired me as a guest teacher last week.

This week I put a pillow under my abuelita Socorro’s head as she laid down for yet another painful examination of her mastectomy surgery site at Dr. Brunst’s office [477 N. El Camino Real].

I have this aerial view of my life from outside of time. Of me moving about in a relatively small area around El Camino Real within finite time.  It makes me feel so small.

substitute teaching, grasshopper

I began substitute teaching last week and I've truly enjoyed it. I like the flexibility it offers. Its a good transition for me from being a stay-home-mom to the full-time position I would like. My sister A watches E and takes J to school/ picks him up. E really enjoys staying with her.  

picture: grasshopper J and I caught today in front of the house. Yikes! It's about 4 inches long. We released it after observing and taking pictures of it.  

Going back to work

The California Commission on Teaching Credentialing finally issued my teaching credential. My file apparently sat on someone's desk at SDSU all summer. I checked for positions on edjoin and it looks like I may need to substitute teach this school year, as the school year already began. Although I would have liked a full time position, working part time may be good, for now,  since Ethan will not enter kindergarten until next year. Also, I have never subbed and I can benefit from going into other teachers' classrooms to glean ideas that I can later implement in my own classroom. I've been a stay-home-mom for 5 years and I feel pretty excited about having my own classroom again/ teaching.... yeah, having an income would be nice too.     

Happy Birthday Ava Mia

Today marks the second year anniversary of my daughter's birth.  She continues to bring me joy. I am continually thankful to God for giving her to me. There exists a connection between parent and child that extends beyond our arms' reach, beyond our eyes' witnessing, beyond any understanding and beyond our mind's capacity to remember.  

This is one of my favorite pencil drawings by Jean Keaton.  

I wrote this poem for Ava in April of this year: 

joyful hope

sweet impression of

holding you,

more real than 

absence

absence is nothing

you

I kissed

faith,

the substance

of things hoped for

you

evidence of things unseen,

of His promises

His love

Amy Manely Bonifaz

Happy birthday

sweet, beautiful,

Ava Mia

mommy, daddy,

Josiah and Ethan

 love and miss you

very much!

 

We will go

 to where you are.

 

The Lord your God is with you,

He is mighty to save.

He will take great delight in you,

 He will quiet you with his love,

He will rejoice over you with singing. 

Zephaniah 3:17

One of the many ways the Lord showed His compassion to me was by revealing to me, in my heart, that Ava belonged and belongs to Him. Someone from my Yahoo Ivemark's Group shared this poem while I was still pregnant with Ava. 

Half of an Angel’s Heart

It's a beautiful day up in heaven. Jesus is rounding up his tiniest

angels, to go live on earth, and be born. One of the sweetest angels   

says to Jesus "I don't want to leave, I like it here, and I will miss

you". He reassures the scared little angel that everything will be

okay, and that she is just going for a visit. She is still not swayed

by this idea. So Jesus kneels down, and says, "How about if you leave

half of your heart here with me and take the other half with you, will

that be okay?" The angel smiles and says, "I guess that will work".

But the little angel is still a little scared. She asks, "Will I be

okay with only half of my heart?" Jesus replies, "Of course you will,

I have other angels there that will help out, and you will be fine."

Then Jesus gives the angel more details about his plan. He says "When

you are born, your mommy will be scared, so you have to be strong, and

when you feel weak just remember that I have the other half of your

heart". "Enjoy your time with your family, play and laugh everyday."

"And when its time to come back to heaven, I will make your heart

whole again. Always remember that you are not broken, just torn

between two loves."

author unknown

Each picture has a story

The Foot Book

These are my three children. Well, their feet. One of our favorite things to do is to read books in bed. The Foot book by Dr. Seuss is one that they really enjoy. During Ava's 5-month stay at home with us [she spent her first and last month of life in the hospital, with 5 months in-between at home] J, E, A and I spent a lot of time at home indoors. A's deficient immune system, due to her absent spleen, was of great concern. The kids and I used plenty of Purell and stayed away from public places. 

The most difficult part about being in the hospital was being torn between being with either Ava or my boys. EB or I [or at times, both] were always by Ava's side. I cannot describe the contentment and joy that I felt to have all of my children with me. Once she was home, I took J and E to all of their sister's doctor's appointments, x-ray visits, with me. I would push E and A in the double stroller and J would walk / or I would carry A in her carrier while pushing J and E in the double stroller. Even though I had family members that would happily accompany me or watch the boys, I chose to be super-mom and do it on-my-own to the best of my ability. I'd carry coloring books, toys, medicines, pacifier, snacks... everything I needed to keep all three happy and entertained (but most importantly, to keep them with me)-- it just felt so good to meet all of their needs myself. I would give the world to have all three with me again.

Ava's Births
Ava Mia Bonifaz was born by c-section at Sharp Mary Birch Hospital, 3003 Health Center Drive, San Diego, CA at 2: 21 pm on September 05, 2006. 

She went to be with the Lord (born back into heaven) when she was 7 months, 8 days old at 7: 20 am on April 13, 2007.

Ava Mia Tile
This is the tile made for us at the hospital after she died. I chose the words for it. All I could think of at that moment was what I had known all along, she belongs to God. 

Heart Catheterization Bear
Ava Mia received this black bear (undressed) as a gift from hospital personnel after her heart catheterization when she was 4 months old. It has a big red heart on its chest and a red heart on the bottom of each foot. It now wears a pair of Ava's ballet shoe socks, Ava's red hospital band, one of Ava's extra purple dinosaur hospital band-aids across its heart, a red bow I purchased in Ensenada for Ava after her passing which she will never wear,....and ... the dress is an exact replica of the dress Ava was buried in, which my mom purchased for her at Stratesburg Children, a boutique of children's formal-wear that sells small doll dresses to match their girl dresses (the only difference is that Ava's dress came with a slip and small pearl accents in the stitching). I dressed the bear a couple months ago as I went through items of hers that I kept.   

Ava received a Birthday gift yesterday!

Thank you tia Aly, Eliana, Emmanuel, Aaron, tio Leonel :0)

E's hair, camping, new positive behavior incentive, breathing

I took the boys to get fresh haircuts two days before J returned to school. The next day, E decided to give himself a second haircut in the bathroom. I found him, scissors in his hand, hair all over the sink. He chopped sections of his hair really close to his scalp. I tried fixing it by trimming the surrounding areas, but it still looked bad. I took him to the barber and we had no other choice than to buzz his head. His hair has never been this short. Everyone asks, "what happened to your hair Ethan?" and he will say one of three things; a. " I don't like it" b. "I cut my hair" c. "my mom said I had to cut all my hair now." Poor baby. He likes his brother's spikes. Unlike J, E has thin, limpy, easy to style hair that grows slowly. I told him we just have to start all over, that it will grow back, that he must never cut his own hair again.   EB just thought it was funny and wanted to make sure I took pictures. 

My grandparents were staying with us the first two days that J went back to school. But on J's third day, E and I were home alone all morning. E is hilarious! He began to pretend like he was talking to J. "J, come play... stop J! ... mom! J is hitting me." 

me: "really? tell him to come here right now... Should I spank him?"

E: "Yes, really, really hard" (giggling) 

me: "Do you miss your brother?"

E: "What's miss?"

me: "Do you want your brother to be here with you?"

E: "Is he going to bring me something?"

Then later ...

E: "Abuelitooo [spanish for grandpa], abuelitoooo, you can't tickle me anymore abuelito."

--It was right around that time when I realized that I needed to stop what I was doing (washing the dishes) and play with him a little while. 

When we went to the store later that day, and as I pushed him alone in the shopping cart, I realized that I really need to cherish E this last year that he is home with me before he begins kindergarten/ before I return to work. I look at his four-year-old hands and its difficult not to feel a little sad. He is growing up so fast. He is two years younger that J, but he is already wearing the same size clothes and shoes that J wore one year ago.

E is always pushing his limits. Lately he misbehaves when he wants attention. We've tried time-out, talking to him, spanking, taking away television/computer time-- nothing seems to work consistently. I thought of rewarding his good behavior instead, but I did not want him to depend on a prize to be good. I came up with drawing a big star, happy face, or heart on his back when he listens to me, or waits patiently. He can't get enough of it. He was confused at first because he said he could not see it, but I whispered to him "its a prize to feel not to see." He has always responded well to touch, likes to be held, likes to put his head on my tummy, likes to be tickled, likes stuffed animals, blankets, clothes that are soft to touch. Everything he likes is sofly-something; his sofly-shoes (crocs), sofly pants, sofly-blanket, sofly-bear, sofly-tummy (mine or his grandma's which he likes to lay his head on). So the feeling he gets when I draw something invisible on his back, is really a special reward for him. Each child is so different, reminds me of when I learned about 'learning styles' and Howard Gardner's 'Multiple Intelligences' at school.  

E enjoyed camping and tire-inner-tube tubing last weekend. Surprisingly, he became tired sooner than J and enjoyed sitting on a rock with his feet in the water next to his aunt A and uncle D. E breakthrough # 2. It is possible to 'tire'-him-out ;o) He is usually so active, jumping around, climbing on furniture, anything-- just moving. After tubing and sitting on the rock, he fell asleep on a camping chair (at about 5 pm) from which we transferred him to the car, then, once we arrived home, to his bed-- he slept until the next day!

E continues to occasionally experience asthma (bad word. I'm still in denial) symptoms. I'm not sure what triggers it, since this is new for him. Sometimes when he becomes upset, or gets tickled, or one time when he was walking up a hill, or just wakes from sleeping... he will experience shortness of breath which I recognize either from a frustrated cry in which he attempts to catch his breath, or because he actually says, "I can't breathe," or complains of chest pain. His pediatrician heard heavy wheezing in his chest during his last cold in April, and that's when we heard that nasty word in reference to E for the first time... asthma. He was given an inhaler, which I now carry in my purse. He had an episode while we were shopping at Costco about 2 months ago that scared me a little bit.

pictures: painting by E, E's feet in the river, E's hair after he gave himself a haircut

J's tooth, 1st week of school, hair, camping

I took J to the dentist because of a new tooth that sprouted right behind his first loose baby tooth. The dentist's advice was to try to wiggle it out. J worked on it for a couple of days and just before we were ready to give up, I decided to take pictures and record a short video in which he actually pulled it out himself. I posted the video of him pulling his tooth out on You Tube (link on left).  

J began 1st grade last week. The school day is longer compared to kindergarten and his enthusiasm for the new school year dwindled after just the second day. He keeps telling me that I need to pick him up earlier from school the 'next' day because his teacher told him that "the days will get shorter" -- which he misinterpreted. I am confident in J's academic ability, as he is very intelligent. However, he needs to work on his social skills. He's going to a new school this year, so the first day I asked him, "J, what did you do at recess?"

J: "sit in the shade"

me: "did anybody else sit in the shade?"

J: (in an indifferent tone) "no."

me: "J, you need to play at recess and find kids to play with. OK?

J: (in a 'whatever' tone) "okay"

DAY 2

me: "How was school?"

J: (after some hesitation) "good."

me: "what did you do at recess?"

J: "sit in the shade"

me: "did anyone else sit in the shade?"

J: "no."

me: "J, the reason you have recess at school is so you can get exercise when you play and so you can talk to kids and make friends. OK?"

J: "okay."

Needless to say, I worry about him. I know exactly what he does. He sits in the shade where its cool, finds a twig and a blade of grass or any other object laying around and makes them talk to each other, argue, transform into a robot or animal, jump, crash etc. until the bell rings. On the third day he told me he played. I ask him about other things too, of course, and I praise his effort on his classwork, but I know that its also important for him to play with other kids. I'm caught between allowing him to be who he is or interfering.

J's straight and thick hair is very unmanageable just like his father's. EB had long hair when I married him which he managed to slick back by wearing a net on his head overnight. Short after we got married, he got a buzz cut which he has kept ever since. It's all or nothing. EB and J cannot get medium length haircuts because their hair will just stick straight up. So I decided to take the barber's advice and allow J to get a 'spikey' cut this time. Now his hair can do what it naturally wants to, stick straight up, and it looks like its intentional. What a relief! Just add gel and go! J likes it. He feels cool. He looks older :o(   

I went camping with my sister, her husband and my boys last weekend (EB went boat fishing in Ensenada). The kids went tubing down a short strip of the river at the La Jolla Indian reservation where we camped. I would help them get on their tire-inner-tube on one end, and my brother-in-law would catch them on the other end. It really brought out the daredevil in J. He loved a section that had a small waterfall and a strong/fast current. He flipped over twice, but loved it.   

pictures: J's new hair, J's painting of himself with Jesus, J's loose baby tooth- just a couple of minutes before he finally pulled it out, J tubing at the La Jolla Indian Reservation

E & J career goals

For some time now, my four-year-old son, E, says he wants to be a 'volcano firefighter and a paramedic' when he grows up. Last summer they visited a Fire Station where they were able to go inside a fire truck and ambulance.  Since then, both he and Josiah, get very excited whenever they see a fire truck, ambulance, or Fire Station. They once witnessed an elderly lady being taken by paramedics and one of the firefighters there (also at the scene) gave them stickers. They know their sister was taken to Children's hospital in an ambulance and Ethan sometimes also says he wants to be a doctor 'to help babies that are very sick.' They have also seen pictures of when their dad was a fire fighter for the CA Department of Forestry. 

When my 6-year-old son, J, told me he wanted to be a doctor, I explained to him that there are many kinds of doctors. I suggested that we find a book on different 'doctor jobs.' Since then, he decided -on his own- that he wants to be the doctor that 'takes babies out of mommies' tummies.' When I took him to the library this week, he asked the librarian to help him find books on doctors. He found a children's book on anatomy and also a children's book titled, 'The Obstetrician.' He and I discovered together that a 'doctor who takes babies out of tummies' is an obstetrician . The book is age appropriate and I've read it to him already. He is fascinated with understanding baby development and is set on learning all he can, so that he could become an obstetrician one day. I was a little apprehensive about explaining the birth process to him. When he has asked me about how babies are born in the past, I've told him that when he was born, the doctor made a small cut on my tummy (I had 3 c-sections) and then closed it back up. I was sort of hoping he would not be so persistent on learning obstetrics at age six.  

However, I don't take either of their career aspirations lightly. I decided I wanted to become a teacher at the age of five.

picture: 'baby in tummy' drawing by J   

Celebration of Life Event excerpt

This is an excerpt of what I wrote for Ava's 'Celebration of Life' gathering at Rady Children's Hospital held on July 11, 2007. I'm posting it because it briefly summarizes her condition/history. Her anomalies associated with her heterotaxy (cardiac and non-cardiac) were numerous and complex. The joy that she brings to my life is unmeasurable and I can only attempt to describe it.

Our daughter, Ava Mia Bonifaz was born on September 5, 2006. She weighed 7 lbs, 4 oz and cried loudly as the nurses speedily took her from the doctors’ hands to be transferred immediately to Rady Children’s from Mary Birch Hospital where she was born. At my 5 month ultrasound in May and in subsequent ultrasounds/fetal echocardiogram studies, they had determined that she would be born in critical condition. Her heart only had one ventricle and a common atrium; two chambers instead of four. Additionally, they were unable to locate her stomach throughout my pregnancy and feared her esophagus was blocked. I had a condition of increased amniotic fluid volume and they monitored my pregnancy closely because they feared I could go into pre-term labor. She was a miracle. She was born only a couple days before her due date, pink, at a healthy weight and crying (which meant there was no block in her esophagus as they anticipated).

All those things parents usually take for granted at the birth of their child were a miracle for ours. I remember going to Babies-r-us once during my last few months of pregnancy. I saw the baby girl clothes yearningly from a distance. When I came close to take a closer look, I felt I was trying to deceive myself, cheat providence. The perinatal experts as well as the cardiologist I had met were blunt and honest in informing us that our daughter might not survive her first month of life. My baby would not be able to wear her own clothes in the NICU, except for a hat, socks and receiving blankets. I left the store holding tears back.

I had a c-section so I couldn’t leave Mary Birch to see my dear miracle baby until the next day, but I saw pictures. She was beautiful. The next days my husband took me over on a wheel chair frequently and we’d stay for hours. I’d hold Ava’s hand or foot, sing to her, help with her diaper. She’d wiggle, sleep, cry, but always with her eyes closed. She wouldn’t open them until minutes before her heart surgery at 7 days old, another miraculous and happy moment. After her recovery, there came many happy moments; holding her for the first time, less tubes, fewer drips, visits from her brothers who also sang to her, bottle feeding her for the first time then breastfeeding her—her big beautiful brown eyes gazing at me. Then finally, bringing her home on October 3, 2006 after only a month in the hospital.

Altogether she would only spend her first and last month of life in the hospital with only a 3-day and another 4-day visit in-between in November and January.

Ava’s heart required two more heart surgeries which she was not meant to endure. Besides her multiple heart defects, she was born with heterotaxy, also known as Right Isomerism, or Ivemark’s syndrome. Her heart anomalies were part of a larger condition in which all her internal organs were affected. Ava had no spleen, a midline enlarged liver, two tri-lobed lungs and a right-sided stomach.

There was no way of knowing any of this by looking at her during her 5-month stay at home with us. It was easy for us to forget that her condition was so fragile. Besides her medications and frequent doctor’s visits, she lived as any healthy baby. She gained adequate weight, fed well, smiled, cooed, laughed, outstretched her hands to be held, played with her toys and took things to her mouth. She loved being held, her doll, carrots, and watching her brothers play and talk to her. She had the longest most beautiful eyelashes I have ever seen on a baby. I made bows for her hair and loved dressing her in pink. She was so loved and cherished.

Knowing I might not be able to keep her, I had defiantly named her Mia, spanish for mine. And soon after she came home I could no longer imagine my life without her. I planned and lived with her as if she’d always be with us. I purchased the dress she’d wear to my brother’s wedding (who was married two months after she passed) months in advance and her pink dress hangs in my closet still. Nothing could prepare me for ever losing her.

On March 13, 2007 she had respiratory distress followed by cardiac arrest. She was on a ventilator and many, many drips after that and until April 13, 2007 when she went to be with our Lord.

In the course of my journey with Ava, I saw the Lord; in the faces, smiles, feet, words and outstretched hand of every doctor, nurse, family member, brother and sister in Christ and person who He in His mercy and grace used to touch our lives through Her.

Though I cannot escape thinking of how old she’d be now, of the unreached milestones, of how incomplete we are without her, God sustains me, and His still, quiet voice reminds me that she is in His hands. Before she was formed in my womb, He knew her, He created her.

I have always loved children, and dreamed with having my own since I was very little. I chose to become a school teacher so I could work with children and also so my schedule would match my own children’s schedule. After my second child, I chose to become a stay-home mom and this allowed me to be home with Ava.

Maybe we were chosen to have such special children whose journey would be short but so very significant and extraordinary. I feel priviledged and blessed to have a daughter named Ava Mia Bonifaz who shared her seven months here on earth with me. God knows my heart. If in our pre-existence here on earth, He would have asked who would welcome His precious Ava into the world- even in its brevity, I would have volunteered gladly, eagerly and without hesitation. I thank God everyday for Ava.

If death seems unatural it’s because it is. In Jesus we have the promise of eternal life and everlasting love. Jesus said, “Because I live, you will live also” John 14: 19.
Now, I can say, ‘Come, Lord Jesus’ with some understanding. He has conquered death and He will end all present suffering. He will wipe the tears from our eyes and I will be reunited with my daughter.

I love you sweet, beautiful Ava Mia
Daddy loves you
Josiah loves you
Ethan loves you

Jesus loves you. He has taken away all your hurts. I know you are with Him now.

No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love Him. Isaiah 64: 4 and 1 Corinthians 2:9

Ava Mia, you are His.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Little Elegy
Withouten you
No rose can grow;
No leaf be green
If never seen
Your sweetest face;
No bird have grace
Or power to sing;
Or anything
Be kind, or fair,
And you nowhere.

By Elinor Wylie (1885-1928)


Children of the heav’nly Father
Safely in his bosom gather;
Nestling bird nor star in heaven
Such a refuge ne’er was given.

God His own doth tend and nourish;
In his holy courts they flourish;
From all evil things He spares them;
In His mighty arms He bears them.

Neither life nor death shall ever
From the Lord His children sever;
Unto them His grace He showeth,
And their sorrows all He knoweth.

Though he giveth or he taketh,
God his children ne’er forsaketh;
His the loving purpose solely
To preserve them pure and holy.

Caroline V. Sandell-Berg (1855)

picture (top): Rady Children's Hospital San Diego

picture slide show, Ava Mia:

13th annual Ayala-Negrete Family Reunion

This year's reunion was held in Ensenada, BC. We camped-out at my tia Lupita's so my grandfather (who is ill) could attend. My mom's side of the family has grown to sixty-some member's -- about double the number of members since our first family reunion in 1993. I've contributed four new members :o)
Each reunion is special. We had sports, games, pools, piñatas, an astro jump, new members to welcome, a camp fire, and great food. I feel very fortunate to have such a large, caring and close family.
My favorite part is the end when each member speaks-out to thank the organizers, share thoughts/ feelings. Whether it is some advice, a great story, or just the warm feeling of acceptance, everyone takes away with them something different and special. For me, the highlights of the reunion were;

1. Seeing Estevan. Since my tio G's passing, we see very little of his family. My tio G is very special to me. Having Esteban (his son) at the reunion felt like having part of my tio still with us and that is so important to me.

2. Listening to my cousin Felipe. He has so many great stories to tell about his backpacking trip through Mexico. More than stories, the lessons he has taken away from this experience transformed his outlook on life and inspired me.

4. Seeing my brother J as a new father. He is such a caring dad to his new baby son of 3 months.

5. The family prayer my tio Jaime led us in. The majority of our family has now come to know Christ. The unity our family shares is only a reflection of the great work He continues to do in our lives.

6. Seeing my boys E & J have such a good time swimming and playing with their cousins, calling them by name. When we were there E told me, "mami, this is the best day ever!"

7. Having all four of my grandparents with us. My abuelita S is a breast cancer survivor and suffers from high blood pressure. My abuelita L got a heart-pacer this year. My abuelito E is living with liver disease, diabetes and anemia. My abuelito O suffers from severe arthritis. I feel so blessed to have them and I love each one dearly.

8. Watching my husband E be part of the family-- I think he fits in more than me :o)

9. Notice and really appreciate all the hard-work and expense that went into keeping and feeding 60-some people for three days. When I was younger this is something that I overlooked.

10. Listening to my cousin Edgar be so enthusiastic about his future, his career, adulthood.

11. Seeing a picture of my Ava that I had not seen before on my tia A's camera.

picture: fig tree at my tia Lupita's house

All I need

There is no happily ever after for a bereaved parent. There is no goal for security, economic status, contentment. There are no plans for an accomplished future. Everything seems more finite. Sanity hangs on a thread. Reality is raw, crude. Fate, irreversible.

You're never too old to go back to school. You can always begin your diet next Monday.
Can I get a deferment? exception? omission? waiver? forbearance? extension? second chance? miracle?
The answer had always been yes until the death of my daughter.

I feel anxious. I feel incomplete. I sit on my hands. I walk in circles. I stop. I look around and realize that I've started 10 different tasks. That I don't remember what day it is. I'm tired of much activity that takes me nowhere, seems to accomplish nothing-- nothing I can find any satisfaction in.
I remember when I used to beam with fulfillment after completing a scrapbook page, organizing my junk drawer, cooking a good meal, polishing my nails.
I lived by to-do lists. All I need is to do these five things and then I can be done, content. All I need is eggs, butter, paper napkins... oh and that book that I really want to read to the kids.

I felt the Lord's compassion and presence in my life more palpably in the weeks preceding and following A's passing than I ever have in my life. Her illness and subsequent loss taught me much about compassion, suffering, love, and Christ's sacrifice... which I've simply soaked up but have no energy to share --- as I feel that I must.
I see A's life as God's gift to me that brought with it much responsibility. Responsibility to become a compassionate person, to dedicate my life to giving, to comfort someone whose hurting or wash someone else's dishes. If I could just get off the ground.

I need my daughter.
But in this lifetime, and for now, 'all I need' is to feel joy in hope. In God's promise of eternity-- while struggling to be functional now.
My boys need to know God's promises are real.
All I need is God.

picture: Ava's blankets

The Big 3 OH

I turn 30 today. Thank you to all who called to remind me. Ummm... yeah. EB went all out at 6 am!!! balloons, las mañanitas, cake, pink foam spray, blow horn, light-up birthday-pins to wear, breakfast, heart lollipop, card & big hug. I plan to watch a Friends DVD-- The One Where They All Turn 30(thank's AS-), eat ice cream-- I might scream, cry :'o(  

:o) 

When time stands still

I received my invite for our annual family reunion which will be held in Ensenada, BC, August 1-3. I'm really looking forward to it. There was no reunion in 2007. A passed in April-- and I did not go to the reunion in 2006 because I was well into my third trimester and with signs of early labor for A.

One of my uncles has two new babies that I haven't met. Some of my cousins who are still 8 in my mind are entering junior high or high school this year. It is incredible to me how this past year is so blurry in my memory, how it has affected my perception of passed time. Anyone who's suffered a loss probably knows the feeling of living in a blank stare, in de-ja-vu, in going into room and not remembering why, (the one that gets to me the most) losing the sense of time- wondering what time it is- pulling out my cell phone to check the time- looking at the time- putting my cell phone away- and still wondering what time it is because I either looked at the cell blankly or already forgot?, the worst is waking up in the morning and the loss hits you as if you'd forgotten.

I never really used an alarm clock growing up. If I ever set one, I'd wake up just two minutes before it would ring. This past year I used all three alarms on my cell and I wish it had more. I use one to wake me up, one to tell me I have five more minutes before it's time to take J to school and one to tell me to go pick him up.

About three times towards the beginning of the school year, I dropped J (oldest) off at kindergarten, drove away, and after a couple of minutes of driving, I'd turn to look at the 'kids', and I'd panic because only one was there. I would panic because for a split-second I had a) forgotten I had just dropped-of J at school and b) A was really gone, still. It is the same feeling you get when you lose a child in a store.

E would look back at be blankly, still sleepy, and alone in the back seat.

I regress sometimes into this altered state of non-consciousness. I can tell it is happening when my dishes are piling up, when the kids are in the kitchen scavenging for something to eat because I have forgotten to feed them. If it weren't for J & E, I think that I would just not eat on some days.

I look forward to my grandparents' monthly visits when they stay for a couple of days. They will be here again on the 29th. Their presence helps me snap-out-it, brings some normalcy into my life. I even gain the couple of pounds that I've lost during the month when they're not here.

Part of the reason I summer-homeschool my kids is because its one of the few things I can concentrate on and think clearly about and be motivated by. Teaching is my passion and teaching my own kids is thrilling to me. When J was a baby and I taught second grade, I looked forward to him being the age of my students and being able to sit with him and teach him. He will be 7 this December.

There is one thing about being a 'clinically depressed' Christian. You know the way out. All I need to do is begin to immerse myself in God's word; read the bible, listen to Christian radio ( I recommend KWAVE 107.9) and I regain an adjusted view on my life. In view of eternity and His salvation.

Joyful in hope... Romans 12:12

summer homeschool

I plan to home school J, and E this summer (July & August). So far I've made a schedule (Tuesday-Friday 8:30 am-11:30 am) and put together a binder for them with tabs for the subjects we will cover; Bible, Music, Math,  English and Spanish. I'd like to focus mostly on the Bible, Music, and Spanish since these subjects are not covered at school. The boys are looking forward to it, as am I. Last summer I made it fun and included lots of songs/ movement/ art/ cooking/ games and field trips. This summer will be a blast! E (youngest of my sons) is now four-- he can write his name, knows his letters/sounds, reads about 25 sight words, and can count-- but most importantly, his attention span is longer :o)

List of curriculum texts/ sources I will use and recommend:

• The Book of Virtues, William J. Bennett/ Simon and Schuster 1993
  
• Now We are Six, A.A. Milne/ Puffin 1955
  
• What your kindergartner needs to know, E.D, Hirsch Jr/ Delta 1996
  
• Hooked on Bible stories/ HOP, LLC 2006 (note: did not like the CD, plan to use books, memory verses and traditional children's bible songs)
  
• Abecedario de los Animales, Alma Flor Ada/ Espasa Calpe 1990
  
• Day by Day, the one year devotional for young children, Betty Free/ Tyndale 1997
  
• Hooked on Phonics
  
• Hooked on counting/addition
  
• Enchanted Learning Website
  
• CA content standards
  
• Pasitos hacia la lectura, Darlyne F.Schott/ D.F. Schott 1991
  
• Osito, Osito, Jose Flores et al/ Macmillan 1987
  

loved 100%

After having my first son J, it was unimaginable to me that I'd be able to love another as much as I loved him -- 100% and with all my being. Two years and three months later, E was born and the impossible happened. I loved E 100% and with all my being from the very first moment I saw him. Not logical and not mathematically possible but I loved them each individually with all my heart. The presence of a new love did not in any way compromise, compete with, or take-away-from my love for the first. Then I began to long for and love baby A. She hadn't been conceived yet, but somehow I knew she was missing. I missed, and loved her already. 

Then she was born two years and 6 months after E. She took my breath away. I loved her so much, 100% and with all my being. Baby A spent one month in the hospital recovering from heart surgery after being born. I would bring the boys into the NICU with me and we'd sing softly to her. They loved her too. I tell them they can love her still. I do- 100% and with all my being. Like a child who's at school or on a long trip, I love her just the same even though she is not with me. 

I think of the story of the good shepherd who left his 99 sheep to find the one that was lost. If you have 99 sheep already, what use will one more be? Is recovering one even worth the energy it will take to recover it? Not if one sheep out of a herd of 100 is simply equal to a value of 1/100 or 1%. What is amazing about the good shepherd is that, one sheep out of 100 did not represent a mere negligible 1% loss to him. 

Jesus is our good shepherd. His love for humanity is not collective.  He loves us each individually, 100% and with all His being. 

So when I feel small and think ...  "how can God care about me or what happens to me specifically-- with everything else going on in the world-- not to mention, so many other people to look after " ... I remember the love God gave me for my children and I absolutely know it must be possible-- He loves me specifically and 100%-- and YOU TOO!   

picture: my husband EB's hand holding baby A's hand in the NICU September 2006

Glad I did

You know the feeling...

You didn't want to go. Maybe you're not the hiking type-- you'd rather watch nature on the discovery channel-- but someone insisted, so you went. On the way up, your calves are sore, you're hot, tired, thirsty--- until finally, you reach the top. 

You're awe stricken by the panoramic views.

An enormous sense of satisfaction and of accomplishment rushes through you-- and you think, "glad I did." 

It's the feeling of learning something new, of inspiration, of purpose...

and my absolute favorite expression to see on the faces of my children.