“This is how dreams die.” -Woody Thompson

 

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I’m not going to go into why I titled this post this way tonight because not everything can be shared. Let’s just say Woody came home and said this to me tonight for a very good reason. All I am allowed to say is screw anybody that sets out to get rich off of kids with cancer. Fucking unreal.

 

Ronan. I cannot believe your baby sister has been here for 3 weeks today. It has went by so quickly. We still have been lying pretty low and I swear it feels like I have been doing nothing but nesting and breastfeeding her since she arrived. The quiet has been good for me. Or at least that is what I am telling myself for the time being. I do miss my crazy insane I’m losing my mind days. Those days got me through a lot of the darkness. I’m sure those days are not over yet… but for now I am just trying to soak in the peacefulness that you sister has brought into our lives. We’ve had a couple of out-of-town visitors. Your Nana came to help out with things and to meet Poppy. It was of course wonderful to have her here as it gave me a chance to do nothing but focus on your sister and let myself become somewhat human again. I was exhausted not from the lack of sleep I’ve been getting, but from the physical part of your sisters birth and the toll it took on my body. Now I am starting to feel somewhat normal again and I know a big part of it is due to the rest I was able to get with your Nana in town. She took a lot of the slack off and for one full week I didn’t have to touch the laundry or cook a thing. It was heaven and so very helpful.

Your Fairy RoMo popped into town just for a day to come and see her new god-daughter. That was a magical day indeed and so special that I can hardly put it into words what it was like to see the two of them finally meet. It was like for once, something in this world without you made sense for  a split second. If I can’t have you here to meet your Fairy RoMo, having Poppy here is the next best thing. We took Poppy all over with us for the day. We had a impromptu Poppy party that was thrown together by Stacy where we sat around at a cute little restaurant and had a nice lunch. It was pretty much her first time out in the world. After that, we took Poppy to your favorite restaurant, Chelsea’s Kitchen. We sat on the patio and went gagaga goo goo crazy eyes over your sister. As I was sitting there, I was taken back to the night of your funeral/celebration of life/one of the worst nights of my life. I was holding your sister and I remembered being there after we had your services. I thought to myself, how in the world could I have come here with a bunch of people the night of Ronan’s funeral? In my white dress looking like a zombie I’m sure. I hardly remember the night except I remember that somebody went and snapped my picture with Quinn on my lap and I remember smiling into the camera. How I even was able to form a smile is beyond me. I know I did it because Quinn was right there and I was trying to act somewhat normal like this is a fucking normal thing to do. Eating Tuna Tacos with a bunch of people after my child had just died and I sat in the front row listening to people talk about about you, holding your brothers hands, without tears streaming down my cheeks because I was too numb to feel anything. And now, here I am, sitting right back at that very same restaurant while holding your sister and kissing her sweet cheeks. How is this my reality again? I wanted to vomit right there on the spot but I just sat there quietly instead doing everything I could do in my power not to cry and hide underneath the table. I let the scene of that awful night play out in my head instead.

Every time I think about you and what has happened lately it’s like my mind is back to not being able to process it. My mind automatically goes to screaming, “FUUUUUUCCCCCKKKKK!!!!” in my head and that’s about it. Sometimes I cry. Sometimes I don’t. I always feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. I took your brothers back to their therapist last week just to check in with them. Quinn did not understand why he had to go because as he told your Nana, “If I needed to talk about something, I would just talk to my mom.” That was sweet to hear and made me feel good, but I still wanted Quinn to check in with Dr. Rachel. I went to talk to her after she met with Quinn. She said that he is doing really well. That the worry brain he used to have, seems to totally be gone. He also told her that he hasn’t seen me this happy in a long time. That stung a little bit. Happy? How can that be? It almost felt like a betrayal to you, Ronan. Don’t get me wrong, I do want your brothers to see  me this way. This is the way they deserve their mom to be… but it still felt weird to hear that. I just wasn’t ready for that word quite yet. It was like swallowing a really big horse pill and doing everything I could, not to choke on it. Dr. Rachel told me she feels like she does not need to see Quinn anymore, even though she would love to because she thinks he is such an amazing little guy, it’s not necessary at this point. Liam on the other hand, still needs some time with her. He is still pretty emotional about all of this. He tends to keep things to himself more so than Quinn does. We talked about making sure she gets some time with him before the shit storm of May 9th and all the lovely dates after, follow.

Your brothers are of course so in love with your sister. It is so strange to watch them with her, thinking they were doing the exact same thing with you after you were born and how you are just gone now. They both fight over who gets to hold her, kiss on her, and love on her. They both say the funniest things about her. The other day I had an outfit on her that was too big because she is so tiny that much of the stuff I have for her is big. The little tank top she had on kept sliding down and Quinn goes, “Mom, why isn’t she wearing a bra? People are going to see her privates.” I almost peed my pants over that one. The innocence at 9 years old melts my heart like crazy. They both can’t get over the fact that she doesn’t have teeth and Liam sits there with her and tries to teach her to talk. He’ll go over and over, “My name is Liam. L-I-A-M. You’re name is Poppy. P-O-P-P-Y.” It is the cutest thing ever. I’m sure if you were here you would be doing things like coloring on her with markers while I had my back turned or taking her hair and putting tooth paste in it or cutting it with scissors. You were always causing trouble in the best way possible.

Your daddy has been doing things with Poppy like playing her guitar. The other night I was sitting in bed with your sister listening to your daddy play to her. I said, “You need to learn a Taylor song for her.” He asked me which one and said, “Not Ronan. I love it, but I don’t think I can get through that one just quite yet.” I agreed with him and immediately went to one of my absolute favorite song of hers. That one from The Hunger Games soundtrack, “Safe and Sound.” Fast forward a week later and your daddy has that song down to a tee. I remember where I was the first time I heard it on the radio. We were in Maine for the 1 year anniversary of your death. Your daddy and brothers ran into a restaurant to pick up pizza and I was sitting in the car alone. That song came on and I started bawling like a baby. I thought it was so beautiful and could not understand how I had not heard it before. I sat there thinking how much I would have loved to sing this song to you as the words resonated with me so much. Now here we are and your baby sister will grow up with your daddy singing this song to her. Once again, the next best thing to actually having you physically here with us.

Our visitors have still been far and few. Your Sparkly came by last week for a bit just to check in. I showed him your room and how different it is now. I think it was hard for him to see, but he said it looked beautiful. It was hard for me to show him. After that, we mainly just sat on our couch and stared at your sister while catching up on some things. Sometimes a lot of words are not necessary. As we were sitting on our couch he asked where your Nana was. She had gone out to run some errands for me so she was not home and I told him how she has a hard time sitting still. He goes, “Now I know where you get it from.” I just smiled at that. He then goes, “Where is your mom sleeping? In Ronan’s room?” I paused for a minute and told him yes. You see this Ronan? This is why Sparkly gets it when not many other people do. Those 3 words, “in Ronan’s room,” meant so much to me. Sometimes the littlest things mean the most and that is a prime example. Sparkly quietly said how he can’t believe how much she looks like you. Cue tears here. End scene with them sloppily falling everywhere as I said I knew. That dimple. I still cannot get over it.

That’s my update for today. I’ve started hiking/running again. I know I’m supposed to wait 6 weeks postpartum, but they don’t call me a rebel for nothing, right little man? The exercise feels good. Today has been a little tough for a couple of different reasons, but mostly just because I seem to be missing you more than ever. Throw May on top of all of that and it’s a wonder I can even leave the house and function like a normal person at this point. I’m going to go for a run to blow off some of this never ending pain. I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe. F U Cancer.

xoxo

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I thought I was ready, but I’m not ready.

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Ronan. It’s normal to sit partly naked on a table at your OBGYN’s office and cry, cry, cry while waiting for her to come in a check your cervix, right? I was really trying to avoid this today. I had my nose busily buried in a book that I was reading on my iPad, but somehow it was as if my hands were not my own anymore and the next thing I knew I was swiping my fingers across all of my pictures on my iPhoto only to be staring at you and your big blue eyes while I waited for Dr. Schwartz to see me. I can usually do this and be o.k. I mean, I look at your pictures all the time, but today looking at them left me with tears streaming down my face and wet spots all over my iPad. There you were in every picture, smiling your beautiful smile at me while I traced your mouth with my little pinky as if I were actually touching you. I listened to the voices screaming in my head that it couldn’t really be this way, that my darling, sweet boy, didn’t really die of cancer. The flashbacks began. The ones that forever haunt my mind. The way I watched cancer eat away at your little body, mind and soul. The pain that set in during your last week or so that I could not rub or kiss away no matter how hard I tried. Your sunken eyes, bloated belly, cold lips and stiff little legs. The pain that I now feel every single day and the sadness that never goes away. Now the harsh stares, un welcomed judgment about the grief that I carry around with me. The grief that nobody will ever truly understand but they sure can pretend as if they do while voicing their opinions about it while judging away. The baby sister that is now almost here that will supposedly heal my broken heart according to the world around me. It’s like the outside world thinks she is the magic pill that I’ve so been searching for but will never actually swallow no matter how hard they try to shove it down my throat. Those who know me well, understand my truth. Those who know me well, know that no amount of time, love or even a new human being will ever take away my pain of having to live my life without you and they don’t judge me because of that. It only seems to make them love me more. Those are the people I surround myself with. The handful of people that are not afraid to be a silent witness to this pain and only fill us with unconditional love. They lift us up not bring us down with their words of kind compassion, non-judgemental stares, and they are just so proud of us for still being here and being a loving family to one another. There are no expectations, no whispers of he’s in a better place, or she is doing everything wrong. I hear the whispers and I am very aware of who is doing the whispering. It’s like I have a sixth sense for those things and I have learned that the whispers will always be there, but I have a choice of whether or not I hear them. I mostly choose to tune them out because I know at the end of the day the proof is in the pudding and the pudding being your daddy, your brothers, and the amazing friends that have become family. Not to mention your Nana and Papa Jim. I always say I swear I could murder someone and your Nana would still say, “I am so proud of my daughter.” I know what it is like to be unconditionally loved, thanks to her. She has taught me a very valuable lesson through all of this. One that I could never repay her for or say thank you enough for. That’s the great thing about your Nana, too. After everything Ronan, after all of her love, support, strength, sadness, help… she would never look at me and say, “You owe me for this for all I have done for you. Or you hurt my feelings because you don’t pick up the phone. Or you are being selfish, rude and need to get over this.” She would never make this about her in any way shape or form. She is absolutely the most selfless person on the planet and I only hope that I too, am silently following in her humble footsteps. I know how much she misses you and misses me. I hope one day that I can start picking up the phone more like I used to when you were here. I am thankful that she does not take any of this personally because she knows that I am just doing the best that I can and to her, that is more than enough.

I cleaned myself up before Dr. Schwartz came into the room. I know I looked like a bloody mess as my entire face was blotchy and red. I was quiet when she came in to see me today and asked me her usual questions and went on with her exam. I told her how I have been getting sick again. Mostly during the middle of the night the throwing up starts. I won’t ever know if it’s your sister or my body’s way of reacting to my grief. I have a feeling it’s a little of both. She checked my cervix and measured my belly which is still measuring a week ahead of time. “O.k. it’s not going to be much longer now. You’ve dilated quite a bit. Let’s put you back in a room to see what’s she’s doing and watch your contractions.” I headed back out into the waiting room to wait for a room to open up. There was a girl out there, waiting with her little boy. I tried my best to avoid eye contact, but she smiled so I of course said hello. I was a wreck and listening to the little boy call out, “Mama!” was enough to make my eyes well up with tears as that is what you always called me. He was so cute but I refused to look his way as I knew what was going to happen if I did. I was doing a pretty good job of reading my book until his little car came flying at my feet because he had thrown it across the room at me. This made me laugh as I bent down to pick it up as it is so something you would have done. I returned the car to his mama and she shyly looked at me and said, “You’re Maya, right?” I smiled and said that I was. The girl told me how she has been reading my blog forever and how she actually saw me a couple of weeks ago out and about but didn’t want to come up and bother me. We sat and chatted for a bit while I tried not to get lost in the blue eyes of her little boy. She could not have been sweeter and told me how meeting me had made her day. I gave here a ziplock bag full of your bracelets that I just happened to put in my purse this morning. I knew there was a reason that I packed them. I don’t always leave the house with a bag full of your bracelets, but today I felt like I might need them. I’m so glad I was right:)

I finally got back to the room where my contractions were monitored and your Poppy sister was, too. Dr. Schwartz came in and read the results and told me due to my contractions, she wouldn’t be surprised if she saw me before Friday which means I could have your Poppy sister at any time. I thought I was ready for this but I think I’ve changed my mind. I’m not ready and I’m bloody scared as hell. The only part of me that is ready for this is my body. My tired body is more than ready to have this baby girl. My heart and my mind aren’t so sure. Can I do this doubts fill my head. Your Sparkly promised me that I indeed, can do this. I know he is right, but it doesn’t seem to be making things any less scary or sad. My excitement for your sister seems to have been put on hold due to the anticipation and emotional roller coaster of tears that will not seem to stop. I can’t seem to stop thinking about the fact that you won’t be here to hold her, love her, kiss on her the way I know you would be doing if you were here. I try to calm myself about this by letting my heart remind me that although you are not here, you will forever be watching over her, guiding her and protecting her in ways that only you can do. I would give anything for you to actually be here, teaching her all sorts of naughty things and causing all sorts of trouble but as I’ve learned the hard way, beggars can’t be choosers.

I’ve got to run, Ronan. Your Bri Bri aka, my little sissy is in town for orientation at ASU. Can you believe that? I don’t know where the time went as it seems like just yesterday I was bouncing her on my hip, watching her grow up and bounce Liam and Quinn around and then, you. Now she is all grown up and is finally going away to college to ASU. I’ve listened to her talk about ASU since she was 8 years old and how she would go to school there someday. That someday is almost here and I am so excited to have a little piece of our family in Arizona with us. Your brothers are thrilled. I know she is nervous but we are going to take such good care of her. I so wish you were here to be a part of this with all of us. You loved your Bri Bri so much. You two and your big blue eyes were quite the pair. I can’t wait for Bri to meet this Poppy girl. I know she is going to be so helpful with her the same way she is with your brothers. Best little sissy ever;)

I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe. Sweet dreams, little one.

xoxo

P.S. I just wanted to say a thank you to all of you lovely souls who have been sending the sweetest little gifts, cards, and even a few Poppy things. I even got a little Poppy headband and matching socks all the way from Ireland a couple of days ago. You all are the most thoughtful creatures on the planet. Thank you for loving my little boy and our family so much. Thank you for letting Ronan make you the most beautiful people. It makes my very broken heart, skip a beat. I love you.

A SPLENDID Event!

 

 

 

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How SPLENDID is this! Get this event on your calendars for 4/11/13! A discount at one of our most favorite retailers AND they are committing a minimum donation of $1000. 3 cheers for SPLENDID!

A Phoebe Update

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http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/phoebe26/journal

Voting doesn’t end until February 24th and you can vote once a day! Thank you! xoxo

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https://www.facebook.com/parentsmagazine/app_124605674371692?ref=ts

I’m not dead, I’m just in New York.

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Turmoil. A state of great disturbance, confusion, or uncertainty.

Ronan. I’ve decided that I live in a constant stream of turmoil. I have known this for a while. I am trying my best to learn to live with this as there is no outrunning it or getting rid of it. It’s not going away anytime soon. It will always be a part of my life, so I’d better learn to just accept it.

I’m in New York. I’ve been here for a few days. I took the Red-Eye out late Monday night. I can tell you I was honestly sad to leave your daddy and brothers. I hate that because of this new life, our family often has to be apart. It wouldn’t be this way, if you were still here. All I ever wanted in this life was our family, healthy, and together. I’m still pissed off that some fuckwad decided that was not o.k. The Red-Eye was a little miserable. I normally love it, but try being almost 8 months pregnant and getting comfortable on a flight while trying to get some shut-eye. Poppy was not happy. I kept thinking I was going to squish her, sitting down for that many hours and not really being able to stretch out. Of course I kept picturing the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck and the cause of her death being the Red-Eye to New York. Insanity often fills my mind and as always, I don’t fight it, I just talk my way through it. I arrived to New York with Poppy still alive and going crazy in my stomach. She seems to always be moving about. I was beyond exhausted and fell asleep as soon as I arrived in the city and my head hit the pillow. Thankfully, I didn’t have any meetings scheduled for Tuesday so I just rested the entire day. I met up with our little, Rachel for a quick dinner and we went to Bloomingdale’s to eat your favorite Fr-Yo, but that was my extent of going out.

The rest of my time here has been full of meetings. Lots of good meetings, interesting meetings, emotional meetings. For the most part, I’ve held it together quite well. I was a little emotional today during a meeting I had at one of the publishing houses. Somedays I can talk about you until I am blue in the face without breaking down. Today was not one of those days. It wasn’t too bad. It’s not like I threw my head down on the table and sobbed into my arms like I often do. Today just proved to me that I felt comfortable enough with the people in the room to let my guard down a little bit. I think it was actually a very beautiful thing. I love when I see in other people’s eyes the way they believe in you, in us, in our never-ending, crazy, intense love story. I saw that today and it is always such a powerful force to be reckoned with. I am always thankful for it.

After my last meeting, I popped over to Solving Kids’ Cancer to see my two favorites, Scott Kennedy and Catherine London. My two sidekicks in all of this because they get this in a way that most people do not. In a way that I wish they did not, but they do and now they will forever be a part of my soul and my life in this fucked up journey. I see myself when I look at them and it is always heartbreaking, but they are also two of the most beautiful people I’ve ever come across in my life. Our visit was short, but I was just glad I was able to see them at all. Even though my time here has been packed, seeing them is always a must.

This is all for my little update. I know it’s short, but I just mostly wanted to check in with you all to tell you I’m alright. I’ve been getting quite a few emails with people worrying about me because I haven’t posted in a while. You all are the sweetest. I am o.k. Just busy and I always try my hardest to unplug a little while in New York. It’s my own little time out to breathe for a bit. Thanks for checking on me, worrying about me, and loving me. You crazy peeps, you;) You all make me smile.

I love you, Ronan. I have a lot to think about. I am trying my best to really take my time with any decisions that will be made in regards to this book. I just want to make you proud. Sweet dreams, little man. I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe.

xoxo

CALLING ADULT CANCER SURVIVORS/CANCER FIGHTERS!

SARAHCalling Adult Survivors / Cancer Fighters for LIGHT the WHITE HOUSE GOLD campaign!

We are consistently amazed by how much support we get from adults who have fought cancer, and say, “kids should never have to go through this.” We want to show the White House that raising awareness for kids’ cancer isn’t just important to the parents’ of our littlest cancer fighters – it is important to ALL OF US.

How you can help:

  1. Adult Survivors / Cancer Fighters – take a picture of yourself holding a sign template (below).
  2. You can hand-write the sign on poster board or have it printed. Make sure it’s large enough to read.
  3. Follow the template and keep it simple! We want the message to be loud, strong & clear.
  4. We will post the pictures on social media, and make a slideshow from the pictures. By sending us your picture, you are consenting to the dissemination of your photo.
  5. Send the photos to Rebecca@RonanThompson.org by MONDAY, January 28, midnight EST. (We wish we had more time, but the petition window ends on February 6.)

THANK YOU!
The Ronan Thompson Foundation

*TEMPLATE*

I’m [NAME]. I am a [type] cancer survivor. But I’m asking you to shine a light on pediatric cancer, the #1 killer of our kids. Mr. President, light the White House GOLD this September.

Please sign the petition:

http://wh.gov/PkGX

20 months is not a kissing day

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Ronan. Today I woke up knowing it was the 9th. 20 months without you. I hate today so much. Your daddy woke up in the best mood ever. I know this is not true, but in my psychotic mind, it was. He was singing in the shower, Ronan. Singing?!?! Can you believe that one? I was beyond grumpy, hormonal and upset so of course I snapped at your daddy, “Can you please stop singing?! This is not a happy day!” He then made me feel like the biggest jackass ever by saying something really nice like he was just trying to wake himself up and he knows that today is an awful day. He tried to grab me for a kiss before work but I refused to give him one. I told him that today was not a kissing day. Remember the way you used to tell me that? In your grumpy little voice. “It’s not a kissing day, mama!” I always loved all my days with you, kissing or not, so very much.

I had a phone call this morning. I’ve had a lot of phone calls this week with different publishing houses. My agent, Nina, has done an amazing job of getting my proposal into the very best hands. Harper Collins! Random House! Simon & Shuster! St. Martin’s Press! Or as my Fairy Ro Mo said to me, “Nice little Indie Publishing Houses they are. Not! Wow!” I laughed out loud at her when I got that text message. I did not know if I was going to be able to pull it together for this phone call this morning as I was on the verge of tears. Luckily, it could not have went better. I think I cried at the beginning, listening to the woman on the other end of the phone tell me how sorry she was about you, but how moved she was with our story. I loved that she really seemed to get it and connect to you in a way that felt so right. She could not have been more complimentary which is always nice. I did what I always do in these phone calls which is let you guide me while I speak from the heart. I felt really good about it when it ended.

I didn’t have anything super crazy or dangerous to do today, on the 9th fuckwad of a fucking day so I did my best just to get through it. I miss my danger days where I used to take the 9th and do something totally dangerous and fun. Last year at this time, I was jumping out of an airplane. I mainly did it thinking I was going to die and I didn’t care. Once I hit the ground, I realized I didn’t really want to die, but instead I wanted to live my life to the fullest and forever do things that you will never get to do. Skydiving included. That was kind of my wake up call in life. I remember hitting the ground and thinking to myself, “If I can jump out of an airplane, I can do ANYTHING.” I still think this is true. I am so thankful for that experience at that time which totally woke my ass up. And I would do it again in a heartbeat, but something tells me that being almost 7 months pregnant, and skydiving do not go hand in hand.

So for today on my “danger day,” I totally did some rad mom danger things. I had to rent a Mini-Van due to being in a little fender bender a few weeks ago. Totally not my fault by the way. Shout out to the VP of your foundation, Ro, for running into me! I have to LOL at that one. It was a very minor accident and he felt so bad. But I have had the BEST time giving him shit about it. And now I get to rock a very dangerous mini van for the next couple of weeks which will be so very awesome! I also went to buy some new pants today because mine are no longer fitting me. I tried them on in the store and they were such a perfect fit that I of course had to wear them out. I spent all morning walking around with the tags on my butt and back thigh. Everyone in all of Scottsdale/Phoenix is now aware that I am a size 30 in jeans. Holla! If you ask me, that was a very dangerous day indeed.

I am wrapping up this post tonight with a raging headache and a wave of exhaustion hitting me that I have not felt in a while. I think the holidays, traveling, Teddy, you, grief, pregnancy, and going, going, going, non-stop is catching up with me. I might need an early bedtime tonight.

I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe. Sweet dreams, baby doll. I love you to the moon and back.

xoxo

I know what I want to name her…

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Ronan. Ireland Ronan Poppy Thompson is what I want to name your sister. I know I told you I’ve been having a hard time getting super attached to this pregnancy and I know the only reason for that is because of the fear that comes along with it. Not because I love her any less than I love you and your brothers. It’s the fear of death that now comes along with this pregnancy. I’ve never had this fear before, until losing you. Now I worry about it all the time. If I don’t feel your sister kick for a while, I’ll think to myself, “Oh my god, she died.” Good thing I didn’t get too attached, right? Wrong. I am not fooling anyone with this whole trying to protect myself thing. I have been attached since I found out at 5 weeks that she was the size of a Poppy seed. I already have a plan for when I am having her, and I will be induced before 40 weeks because I of course have to get her out before she dies of stillbirth, right? I was induced with Liam and Quinn at 36 1/2 weeks. I had you at 37 1/2 weeks. I know Dr. Schwartz is alright with the plans I am scheming up in my head.

Now that I am feeling your sister kick all of the time and I can feel how strong she is, I am starting to come around. It’s taken me a while, but I can finally decide on a name. Your daddy and I have had the name Ireland picked out since before Liam and Quinn were born. I have always loved it. I think it is so strong, unique, and beautiful. I have to have Poppy in there as well. I cannot give that name up for anything. It has come to mean too much to me and just saying it out loud, makes me smile. We will call her, “Poppy,” even though her first name is Ireland. And eventually, when she is old enough to decide, she can take it upon herself to figure out what she wants to be called in life, but to me, she will always be Poppy. That name will forever remind me that something could make me smile, through my darkest hours, even before your sweet little sister, set foot on this earth. That name will forever remind me of the happiness I can feel again, just by saying the name out loud. What I love even more is hearing other people referring to her, as Poppy.

“How is Poppy today?”

“Is Poppy kicking?”

“Who do you think Poppy will look like?”

Everybody is calling her by this name and I love it so very much. It makes me smile and feel a bit of happiness again. I am so very thankful for your little sister already. I know she is going to help us all so very much. She will bring us back some of the sunshine in our lives that we are all missing so very badly.

Today, we hopped in Papa Jim’s truck and headed up to the Mount St. Helens area to go sledding and play in the snow. This state never fails to leave me breathless. I still think it is one of the most beautiful places on the planet. We found a ton of snow and I watched and snapped pictures as your daddy, your brothers, and Papa Jim spent a couple of hours hiking up a hill to fly back down it on their sleds. I listened to their laughs and soaked up their happiness as much as I could. You would have loved today. If you would have been with us, it would have been absolutely perfect in every way. I took it easy due to my ever growing belly. No sledding for me today although I’m sure I would have been fine but better safe than sorry, right? This whole better safe than sorry thing is slowly killing me. How am I supposed to burn off my grief/anger by having to be so freaking safe all of the time? I hate that I cannot go for my long runs/hikes/ or all of those other things I used to do to help me get through this. I cannot wait for this Poppy girl to be born so I can get back to all of my night runs, etc… I am already planning on running the NYC Marathon in November if I can get in. No training required once again;)

Alright little man. I’m sleepy tonight. I sleep really well here and it’s a nice change from the insomnia I usually deal with back at home. I’m going to take advantage of my sleeping well while I can. I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe. Sweet dreams, baby doll.

xoxo

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Welcome the newest board members of The Ronan Thompson Foundation!

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I am so proud of our growing family/board members. Woody Thompson as President, Ken Frakes as Vice President, and Melissa DiFilippo. I am so lucky to be surrounded by these beautiful souls and so honored to have them on our board!

http://www.theronanthompsonfoundation.com/about/board