the Odd Kouple

I (Nikki) am not known for my green thumb. I have lots of wonderful gifts, but keeping potted plants alive has not normally been one of them. I water them too much or forget about them and don’t water them enough. However, as a result of the love and care of our friends after Aiden’s funeral, we became the caretakers of three beautiful new plants in our home.

I felt a little intimidated at the idea of keeping these plants alive. However, it is one month later and they still are. Dare I say they may even be thriving? It has been good to be able to care for something over the last month and I am grateful that they are not wilting pitifully in a corner somewhere. It is a small miracle that they are still lovely and green.

That said, it has been one month today since our precious Aiden both entered and left our world. Daniel, Natalie and I shared the evening by visiting Aiden’s grave and leaving flowers there. We both find a strange peace when we are at that spot. We believe that he is not in that ground, but we know it is where his body lays and that is comforting in some strange way.

Thank you to so many of you who remembered this day and sent your love and care through emails and phone calls. We truly are blessed to have so many that love us.

With Hope,

Nikki, Daniel and Natalie

Tags: Aiden, Aiden John, anniversary, Daniel Hardeman, miracles, Nikki Hardeman

I wrote the following about a week ago, but decided to wait to post it.  To be honest, I wasn’t sure it would be a good idea.  I tried to write an honest post about what the grief is like.  After I wrote it, I thought, “if I post this people will think I’m losing it.”  So I sat on it for a while.

I kept thinking about the post and wondering if other people felt hesitant to articulate what their grief was like to friends and family.  It does seem to be a taboo subject in our world and I think that it might be even more taboo to talk about the grief when it is a child who has died.  People who are concerned about the grieving person are afraid they will make it worse by talking about it; and grieving people think they will make others uncomfortable if they confess how sad they really feel.

So, I have decided to post what I have written.  If for no other reason than to share my experience with those of you who carry your own grief.  I figure that there are a lot of people out there who have lost people that they loved very much and my hope is that what I have written below will resonate with your soul.

Please know that Daniel and I both are walking this journey the best way we know how.  Most of the time, we are dealing really well and it seems that when one of us needs a little break from reality, the other can step up and be a support.  We are so grateful for all of the loving support we have received and we know that we could not be managing as well as we are without it.

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Confession:  Grief is hard.  Anyone who has walked its road will attest to this fact.  No day is the same.  Sometimes I wake up feeling fine and other days I wake up and immediately want to go back to sleep so I don’t have to face the day.  Some days I go almost the whole day without crying, but on most days, I loose count of how many times I cry.

Grief is emotional.  I feel sad most of the time, but occasionally I will feel angry.   When I feel angry, I am frustrated because it doesn’t feel like it has anywhere to go. I’m not angry at anyone in particular, just the circumstances.  Then, I realize that I’m to tired to be angry, and it kind of dissolves away and gives way to more sadness…absolutely overwhelming and heavy sadness.

Grief is physical. More than angry, even more than sad, I feel tired.  I have been a little surprised by how incredibly exhausted I have been.  When I am able to sleep, it is a deep, deep sleep.  I am always grateful for sleep and I never feel like I get enough of it.  tired.  My body is tired and sometimes it aches because it is so tired.  Each day, I have a list of things that I want to get done and not yet have I finished everything on my list in a day.  Usually, I get one thing done and that is all I have the energy for.  Some days, I get none of it done, because it is all I can do to give Natalie the attention she needs.  She is my top priority each day.

Grief is mental.  I can be in the middle of an activity and completely forget what I was doing.  If someone asks me if a prefer this or that, I become paralyzed to answer.  Every decision, even the little ones, like what I’m going to wear or eat, feel overwhelmingly difficult to make.   Sometimes it just feels like the world is moving way to fast and that it is too loud.  Any stimulation is to much right now.  When the world feels like too much, I seem to check out because I cannot take it all in right now.

Everything about it is hard.  And most of the time, I wish it would just stop.

But I can’t.  I cannot skip it, I cannot go around it or over it or under it.  All I can do is walk through it.  Everyone says that eventually it does get easier; that one day, I will be able to dress myself without feeling overwhelmed; that one day, I will be able to make be able to decide what to feed my daughter without feeling like I am moving a mountain; that one day, I will have the energy to accomplish all the things I want to accomplish in a day; that one day, I will not walk around all day wondering what it was that I was doing; that one day, I will feel mostly like myself again.

But the ache…no one has said that one day, it won’t ache.  It seems I get to keep that part the rest of my life.  I think that one day, it will ease a little, but I now live on the after side of loosing my child.  There was this part of my life that was before we lost Aiden.  And now there is this part of my life that is after.  So much of the after is different from the before.  But, it’s not all bad.  Well, right now, most of it is really bad…most of it hurts more than I can describe.  But, I do think that there are things that will become more positive as time goes on.  The only reason I think this is because I have known other people who have lost children and they have had good things emerge out of the tragedy that it is.  I imagine that these people would give all of the good back, if they got to get their children back; I know I would.  But that is not how life works.  For now, we have to figure out how to live this life that we have been given.  We have to figure out how to move forward…or for me right now, not fall backwards.  Right now, I’ll take holding steady.  I’ll work on moving forward a little later.

So, this is grief.  It is hard and messy and frustrating and I’d rather not do it.  But here we are doing the best we can with it, and trying to find the good in it.

Tags: Aiden, Aiden John, grief, Natalie

As I (Daniel) sit here holding the first blanket Aiden was wrapped in after birth, I can’t help but look back and reflect on how we told him goodbye.  Many families in similar situations as ours do not always have time to say a proper goodbye.  As difficult as it was for us to know the diagnosis so early on, it was a blessing in its own right.  Having that extra time to get everything setup ahead of time helped to give us the time and the freedom to wrap our love around Aiden’s precious soul when he arrived. 

Nikki and I have talked and agreed that we wanted to share with you all some of the details of the ceremony.  First, I would like to give a giant thank you to Snow’s Memorial for how comfortable they made the process.  In such hard times, they made it such a wonderful experience where we will not regret any detail of the service. 

Prior to the service, we were given time to bring in professional photographers to create lasting memories (more on this in a future post).  Snow’s also allowed multiple visits from us and family.  But the amazing part was the small private service on Monday December 28th.

With the time that we had we were able to find a beautiful, peaceful location at Riverside Cemetery.  I do not remember a lot of details about the service.  I mainly remember the healing feeling I had.  As we sat there looking at the beautiful arrangement and the picture of Nikki and me holding Aiden close and kissing his soft head, I couldn’t help but be overcome by sadness and peace at the same time.  We did everything right in our situation to put Aiden to rest.  The only detail at the time we were not sure of was how Natalie would react to all of this. 

Prior to the service Natalie had been amazing.  As everything began unfolding on that beautiful day, Natalie sat still next to Nikki.  As the service continued, she began to take on another role as a healer.  She got out of her seat and walked over to me.  With a big grin on her face she reached up for me to hold her.  Once in my lap she took several measures to assure Nikki and I were ok.  I believe she saw our sadness, but knew that everything was going to be ok.

At the times that I cried, she would gently wipe my tear drops off with a tissue.  Then she would lean forward and give me a sweet kiss.  At other times, almost instinctively, knowing that I needed to smile would give me an Eskimo kiss and a butterfly kiss to ease my pain.  during one of the prayers, she wrapped one arm around my neck, leaned to her left and pulled mommy in with the other arm giving us a strong hug with a huge smile on her face. 

By that point, it was hard not to feel like everything would be ok.  How sweet she was.  My heart broke over those days for Nikki, for myself and for the fact that Natalie would not be able to show Aiden how wonderful and caring of a sister she would be.  In those moments at the service I felt that we had given Aiden a wonderful home surrounded by love.  Natalie also made sure of it. 

After the service, Natalie spent a few minutes softly touching the flowers on Aiden’s casket and even pulling a small one out for herself.  I kneeled down next to her and she immediately said, “These Aiden’s flowers.”  I said, “Yes ma’am, they are.  But it is time to say goodbye to Aiden.”  She moved over and stood in front of me with a peaceful look on her face.  I asked her, “Can you tell your little brother goodbye and blow him a kiss?”  With no hesitation, she softly said, “Goodbye, Aiden.  Luvs you.”  Then reached her hand up and blew him a kiss.  Without lingering, she turned and walked away as if to know it was time to go. 

I reached out and brushed the flowers softly and said my goodbyes, taking one of the tiny roses and putting it in my jacket pocket.  I couldn’t help but smile at what I had just witnessed with Natalie.  How sweet that goodbye was.  I could feel a sense of fulfillment thanks to the inner beauty of my 2yr old.  And it of course, for those that know Natalie, didn’t hurt to hear her words in that sweet voice that she has.   She had become the best therapy I could ever have during and after the entire service. 

With peaceful love,

Daniel, Nikki, and Natalie

Tags: Aiden, Aiden John, arrangement, Cemetery, ceremony, Daniel, December, diagnosis, families, freedom, Goodbye, Goodbyes, Hardeman, healer, Memorial, memories, Natalie, Nikki, peace, photographers, Riverside, roses, situation, situations, therapy

The birth of Aiden John was one of the most beautiful moments of my (Nikki’s) life.  Though he was very small, he took up an awfully big space in our hearts and in our lives.  And though he never took a breath on this earth, he will forever be a part of the fabric of our lives.  Little Aiden was absolutely beautiful and I will never forget the first moment I saw him and got to hold him.  He had 10 little fingers and 10 little toes.  He had his father’s forehead and his sister’s perfect little mouth.  He also had nearly as much hair as she did when she was born.

We were so grateful to the medical staff at Central Georgia Medical Center.  They took really good care of us and allowed our family time to meet baby Aiden.  My favorite moments were watching Natalie with him.  We let her have complete control over how close she got to him.  At first, she just wanted to look at him while sitting in her Papi’s lap.  Then she touched the blanket that he was wrapped in and then gave him a little tap on his nose.  Then all of a sudden she wanted to hold him.  It made my heart feel so warm to see her being so gentle and loving to her little brother.  We had a rag that was there to dab a little Aiden’s nose because he was having a little bit of a nose bleed.  As he was passed from one family member to another, the rag would easily be forgotten and fall to the floor.  Every time, Natalie would pick up the rag, hand it to the person holding Aiden, and say, “That’s Aiden’s!” She was so proud to help take care of him.  And I was proud of the way she loved him.  I also felt so sad that I would not get to see how she would be a big sister to him.  That is something that I will always wish I could have seen.

After the family left the hospital, we hung around to wait on the funeral home to come and get Aiden.  Letting him go that night was the most difficult thing I have ever had to do.  There was no way I could prepare for it and to be honest I thought I might literally break in two as I did so.  I don’t really know how we managed to do the things that we had to do that night—all I do know is that I didn’t do it by myself.  I know this because I wasn’t capable of doing it by myself.  Daniel and I both had someone carrying us through it, making it possible for us to take each step as we had to take.

And that is how the last five days have been.  For me, they have been a blur, but I do know that there have been all kinds of people around, taking care and loving my family and me.  I hope to write down some more of the things that have happened over the last several days.  At first we didn’t think we would see Aiden again, but we were able to see him a couple more times and that was a wonderful gift.  I will write more about all of it soon.

Though we continue to hurt deeply, we find ourselves so grateful for all of those who have helped to make this all a little more bearable.  We are grateful that God has given us friends and family who can so tangibly show us God’s love and compassion.  It is these gifts that have and continue to carry us through.

Thank you for your prayers and words of comfort.

Daniel, Nikki, and Natalie

Tags: Aiden, edward's syndrome, Family, Natalie, trisomy 18

I know that there has been a lot of anticipation to hear how everything went at the hospital.  We thank everyone for your prayers and concerns.  We felt so much warmth from that support.

After 9 and a half hours of laboring, Aiden John Hardeman finally joined us in this world at 12:23 am on December 25th.  He was 2 lbs 11 oz and 15.75 inches long.  Between the two hospitals (Coliseum and The Central GA Medical Center), Aiden was the first Christmas baby in Macon this year.  However, we do regret to inform you that he did not survive the birthing process.  He was stillborn when he joined us. 

The laboring process was short, yet difficult.  But the hospital staff was phenomenal in how they cared for us.  We were able to let all of the family that was in town visit with Aiden.  In addition to this, we were given a significant amount of time for us to hold and love on him.  For this we are so thankful. 

Around 5:30am we did one of the most difficult things that we have ever done.  It was time to let go.  We said good bye to Aiden John for the last time.  We passed him on to the funeral home and were released from the hospital. 

Thank you again to everyone that has supported us through this.  It may be difficult to view, but I have included a family picture with Aiden.  Thank you and we love you all! 

Tags: Aiden John, christmas, edward's syndrome, trisomy 18

It appears to be that time. We are now in the hospital. Nikki is between 3-4 cm apart and Aiden appears to have dropped. Aiden has decided he wanted to be a Christmas baby! So please keep us in your mind and prayers.

Many people have checked in and asked how we are doing.  We are so grateful for all of your concern.  The best answer is that it depends on the moment in which you ask.  Over all, Daniel and I are dealing very well.  We have so much support with each other and around us, that we are able to walk this journey somehow.   In all honesty, there are moments when we both wonder if we can really bear this.  There are moments I think, “I had no idea I could hurt this much.”  We both find ourselves pretty exhausted by all of the emotions and grief we are experiencing.

At the same time, we keep putting one foot in front of the other and walking through.  We love our time with Natalie and she continues to bring so much joy into our lives.  She is such a healing presence for both of us and we continue to be delighted to watch her grow and learn.  She is quickly becoming a very independent little thing and wants to do it all herself.

Most recently, I have made the transition to stay home with Natalie and it is going really smoothly.  We are still looking for a rhythm, but I doubt it will come before the holidays are over.

Thank you again for walking this journey with us.  We are grateful for the companionship.

Thank you also to those of you who have reached out to us as parents who have lost infants.  We have struggled to have the energy to respond, but look forward to connecting with you when we feel we are able.  Right now, we are focusing on things closer to home, but hope you will still be there when we do need to talk.

Holding on tightly,

Nikki, Daniel, Natalie, and Aiden

Tags: Aiden, edward's syndrome, Natalie, trisomy 18

Last Friday, Daniel and I had the opportunity to meet baby Aiden in the virtual world. It was so wonderful for both of us to get to see a clearer image of him. He is a cute little fella and we wanted you to get to meet him also. If you are so inclined, feel free to watch the video below and meet Aiden yourself. The video is about 10 minutes long and the first 3D images don’t come until about half way into it. Also, the best image comes in the last half minute. Watch as much or as little as you want. Thank you for sharing in both our joys and our sorrows on this journey.

It was really helpful for me (Nikki) to learn some things about our little Aiden. He is smaller than he should be at this point. On average he’s measuring around 27 or 28 weeks when he is actually 32 weeks along. This was not a surprise to us—we had been told that he would be small. He also seems to weigh about 2.7 lbs when most babies at this point are closer to 4lbs. As much as we don’t want him to be small, it helps me to have more information. We also learned that he may be having a hard time swallowing. We know this because I have a lot more fluid in my belly than I should right now. He should be helping me out by swallowing some of it, but many T18 babies are unable to do this and it causes a build up of fluid for the momma. This is not dangerous to me or Aiden, it just makes me more uncomfortable. It also means that he has a great big swimming pool to swim around in right now and I look more pregnant than I really am.

We hope you enjoyed meeting our little guy. We can’t wait to meet him in person.

With love and gratitude,

Nikki, Daniel, Natalie, and Aiden

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Tags: Aiden John, Daniel Hardeman, edward's syndrome, Nikki Hardeman, trisomy 18

Families are very interesting creations.  Some may be in full disarray from run of the mill bad luck like the Griswold family, others may be falling apart at the seams like every soap on lunch time television, yet others seem to strive through trials and tribulation regardless of the situation…like the castaways on Gilligan’s Island.  (They may not have been blood relatives, but after spending that long on an island with someone else without deodorant will make you family…I digress).  But from each of these families or with individuals within these families stems love that builds faith and gives hope that everything will be ok in the end. 

Due to our current situation, it seems that hope and faith are hard to come by.  But Nikki and I are reminded everyday that our family provides the love that will help sustain these feelings and beliefs.  As I look at my family I can’t help but be overcome with joy and fond memories of things of old and things to come.  Not to mention the time we live here in the present.

We must remember how much family truly means to us.  The central heart of the family will continue to strive if you allow love to feed your faith and hope, regardless of the circumstance.  We thank each of you for the support you have given us.  Now I ask that you provide that same support and love as you keep the rest of my family in your prayers. 

What I have come to realize is that family hurts for us along with their own feelings of grief.  As we deal with our tragedy of Aiden, we have come to realize that our parents are not only hurting due to the expected loss of a grandson, but doubly so as their own children suffer.  This is a beautiful yet difficult thing. This rings true for our other relatives.  Whether it be a sibling hurting for us as they watch us through this or best friends who want to relate, but have never walked in our footsteps.  Everyone around us hurts. 

But I am reminded today that life is beautiful because of this.  Today my family mourns together as my grandmother, Faye Dalton (more affectionately called Ma-ma), has passed away.  She was just shy of her 96th birthday.  She meant so much to us as no matter what part of the world we lived in, we always knew we could return to Ma-ma’s house for great southern cooking and an old fashion tongue lashing if I didn’t sit up straight.  We couldn’t help but love her.  And we hope to have the same resilience as she showed in life. 

I am reminded of the time that she was working in her garden and was bitten by a rattle snake.  At around 76 yrs old or so, she refused to go inside to have herself taken care of until she took the time to find the snake and kill it to protect everyone else.  Once she finally let someone know what happened, they rushed her to the emergency room where she sat patiently and quietly for almost three hours before being treated.  It was a good thing that snake only had one fang.  For its sake I imagine it wishes it had both as it may have won that battle and not ended up as a snake skin souvenir on her dresser.  

This is only one story of many that we have of her.  But a few of the things that we know we could always count on were picking our birthday lunch menu, sitting out on the front porch playing the car color game and hearing bed time stories as we fell asleep.  I even used one of her children’s stories in a high school public speaking class to get an A+.  (It was a great story!)

I can’t imagine everything that she has seen in her 96 years.  My how the world has changed.  But one thing that always remained the same was how Ma-ma celebrated life with her family.  So, as a family we celebrate her life and how she has touched each of us.  We do not mourn with heavy or empty hearts, but rather full and joyous hearts.  All because of a beautiful life that we were blessed to have been a part of. 

Thank you Ma-ma.  May you Celebrate In Peace.  We love you and will miss you dearly.  Nikki and I also know that as you held Natalie when she was born, you will also hold Aiden when the time comes.  He couldn’t be in better hands. 

With much love and celebration,

Daniel

P.S.  Please keep my other grandmother and my whole family in your thoughts and prayers.  Grandmama is also currently struggling with her health and is going in and out of the hospital.  This is a lot for my parents and their siblings to have to deal with right now.  And for the rest of us, we both mourn and hurt for them.

Tags: faye dalton, Hardeman, life, memorials

I realize it has been a while since I graced the cyberspace of our blog.  It has been almost a month now since our last update but have found it difficult to find words to express what is going on.  Over the past month I have spent a lot of time keeping busy, not really thinking about what we are facing.  For me I believe it has been easier than for Nikki as she never has a chance to “step away” from the situation at all.  This is both a blessing and a curse as she gets to be present with Aiden every time he kicks or moves, but has to constantly be reminded of the inevitable.  For the latter, I wish I could bare part of that burden. 

Yesterday was especially difficult as we finally took the time to sit down face to face with a funeral home to start the planning process that we dread to think about.  However, it wasn’t nearly as difficult as I expected.  We were stunned by the sincerity Snow’s Memorial Chapel offered to us.  They were calm, gentle and willing to answer every question we had and some.  It was comforting to know that Aiden would be in good hands when the time comes.

One difficult time I personally had came when they offered to show us the casket.  I knew that this time would come.  I agreed to it so as not to be surprised later on.  When he brought it in I could only look for a short time.  Having to picture my baby boy in there was gut wrenching.   Not knowing whether I would have a chance to tell him how much I love him or whether he would even get a chance to see who is Papi is makes me realize that NO parent should ever have to face this.  For those that have and those that are suffering through it now, I mourn with you. 

Later that night as Nikki and I lay in bed, she reached over and pulled my hand to her beautiful pregnant belly.  She told me to keep it there for a minute.  Before too long, there was a kick to my palm.  Then some movement near my fingertips.  Aiden was moving around and was giving me a chance to feel his touch in that moment.  It was as if the world had stood still for me right then.  Nothing else mattered.  My boy was there, with me.  For the first time…I knew my son. 

Throughout the next 10 minutes I didn’t move my hand.  I cried tears of joy and sorrow hoping to have a chance to hold him alive, but feeling satisfied to know I got this opportunity to feel him playing in the womb.  There are so many “firsts” that I wish I could show Aiden.  But this touch, this first time connecting with me is one that I will hold on to forever. 

Daniel

Tags: Aiden, Daniel, funeral, Hardeman, Nikki, t18, trisomy 18