Wednesday, December 9, 2015

12 DOC: Day Nine: MaryJo Carlson

*This post is part of our Twelve Days of Christmas series. You can read more here.*


Being Brave Enough to Say No
by MaryJo Carlson

I didn’t realize I was brave until years later and I looked back on our story. I only did what I knew I could do, and not what I couldn't. What I did was to say no to celebrating holidays after our grandson died. What I couldn’t do is lie about how I felt and pretend just to follow the traditions of this world.  Some may say lie is a harsh word to use in this situation but to me that is what it was. It was a lie to celebrate while every part of me was barely making it through each day.  My mother’s heart was totally broken.  Watching my daughter grieve the loss of her son is the hardest thing I have ever endured.  My grandmother’s heart was shattered without my grandson Samuel to love and adore here on earth.  

What do I do with this love? 

What do I do with this longing? 

What do I do with this despair; the complete loss and absence of hope? 

What do I do with my inability to heal my daughter and son-in-law’s hearts?

How do I do daily life and add holidays to it with a broken heart? 

I didn’t. I said no and it was the best thing I did.  But it was not easy.  I did not know I was being brave, I was only doing what I could do, and saying no to what I could not do, and that was celebrate.  

It took time, lots of time for me to truly grasp that the way to heal a broken heart it to let grief come and do its work. I personally believed God understood my broken heart.  I did not feel that the first year or the second. I felt utterly abandoned by God. Those were my darkest nights of my soul. There was no glimmer of a Christmas that first year.  That is almost none except right before Christmas day we dug out the lights and put some up to shine up to the heavens as a symbol to our grandson that we loved him and missed him so very, very much. And then I realized in a small and slow way that is what I do with this love for him and for my daughter and son-in-law is honor him, talk about him, celebrate his life even though he is not here with us. I needed to find ways to let this love flow out to others.  To find ways to walk this path with those who are grieving the loss of their precious and so very missed little ones. My longing for our story to be different slowly turned into a longing to make a difference in other hurting people’s life.

My despair was grief working its way through my heart and soul. With no hope there is no life and slowly but surely hope is returning.  No longer was it hope for things to change but hope that my life’s story could bring comfort to other hurting hearts. My new hope found a home by showing love to those who were just starting their journey of grief. To help them know they are not alone, that someone was out there that knew their kind of pain and cared deeply about their heart. I do not have the power to heal my daughter and son-in-law’s hearts but I can make a conscious effort to walk with them on their grief journey for the rest of my earthly life. 

To long with them for that day they will be reunited with their son in heaven.

To remember him and include his memory in our day in and day out life. 

Our holidays have changed completely.  We look for ways to have a much more peaceful, simple, quiet life which includes holidays.  We are learning to live a life that offers love to those who we come in contact with knowing that they may be carrying a grieving heart in need of encouragement. To live a life that forgives quickly. We want to offer this life hearts that are completely changed by this love that we carry; the love for a little boy gone-too-soon.  We will never stop wishing we had our grandson here with us. 

But we are believing that will change in an instant the moment we arrive in heaven. Are we healed? No, but we are more settled into incorporating this love and longing into our life.  The despair has turned into purpose; our inability to control life has found a peace and acceptance. And our love finds ways to add beauty to this life from our brokenness. A little boy named Samuel Evan is deeply loved, he is desperately missed and he has changed this grandma’s heart into truly knowing that every life, no matter how short, has great purpose.  Samuel’s life and his story is all about love and that love is 
continuing to do all that love can do. 

Over the past years of 12 days of Christmas I have shared how to incorporate Samuel’s life into our gatherings. You can read about that here. 

I grew up in a home where meals were a focal point to our celebrations.  My mother was an amazing cook and therefore the legacy of gathering around a table to enjoy good food together remains in me. Therefore, the idea of an empty chair for Samuel it a valuable part of our keeping his memory alive and lends itself to easily talking about him and imagining him with the family as we gather together this Christmas. Children are the very best at this.  They simply and lovingly talk about what he might be doing if he were here.  They imagine what he is doing in heaven.  We accept that tears still flow when we talk about him but we have added joy now to those talks.  We have his place card at his space at the table.  We have his candle there as well and this year we will be adding a plate and cup that I made.  It is a simple, inexpensive and creative way to continue to keep his memory alive in our life as a family.  



The tutorial on how to make the plate and cup will be shared later today.  

Wherever you find yourself on your grief journey today I want to offer my love to you.  If you are a loss mama or daddy this is the hardest thing you will ever do. I fully and completely honor and respect you for making it through each and every minute of every day. 

As a loss grandparent my heart knows a different pain, it runs deep and wide and desperate to fix this for my daughter and son-in-law but sadly I cannot. If you are a loss grandparent know you are not alone on this journey. I “get it”. Remember your grandchild and proudly carry their name with you on life’s journey. You are a grandparent to a perfect grandchild, go ahead and brag!  

My wish for each of you is that love and peace will comfort you in the moments when you need it the most this Christmas.


~ ~ ~
MaryJo Carlson and her husband David have five children. Their oldest daughter is RaeAnne Fredrickson, who started All That Love Can Do in memory of her precious son, Samuel Evan. MaryJo is a stay at home mom and grandma who now spends her time finding way to bring light and encouragement to others who have had to say goodbye to their beautiful grandchildren, way too soon. 


She runs the private groups, ATLCD_Grandparents (for loss grandparents), and Still Grandparents (for loss grandparents without a baby born after loss). 

Tuesday, December 8, 2015

Day Eight Giveaway: Winner!

This giveaway is now CLOSED. We have a winner! 

Jenn, in memory of Noah Alexander, you've won the frame! 

Please contact us HERE within 24 hours to claim your gift.

~ ~ ~ 


Our eighth giveaway is open to all baby/child loss families in the U.S. 

Friends and family may enter on behalf of a loss family, but it must go to a family whose child died. 


Enter to win a custom designed 5 x 7 frame by KM Designs. KM Designs creates custom wood burned pieces with bright and fun designs. You will receive a custom 5 x 7 frame with the quote "Fearfully and Wonderfully Made" for your sweet baby. Colors will vary for a boy or a girl. 




You can check out her work on her Instagram (@kmdesign11) account here. If you would like to order another piece you can contact her through her order page here.

To Enter:

You must be the family of a child who died, or entering on behalf of a loss family, in the U.S. 


1. Like All That Love Can Do, on Facebook.
2. Comment below, or on the Facebook post, with your child's name(s), or nickname, and why you'd like to win.


The winner will be randomly selected and announced here and on Facebook on December 9th.

Good Luck!

12 DOC: Day Eight: Kellie Soper

*This post is part of our Twelve Days of Christmas series. You can read more here.*

Almost Perfect Christmas

I love Christmas. Actually I love Christmas Eve. My family does Christmas BIG. They do everything big because there are a lot of us.  

Growing up we spent Christmas Eve at my grandparents. It started out as a quiet evening at home for my mom's first Christmas. My grandparents had seven more kids in twelve years, and it grew quickly. Boyfriends and girlfriends became husbands and wives and then the grandkids quickly grew with their husbands and wives and then the great-grandchildren (thirty-eight and counting)! Now it's so big that we actually have to rent a hall. No one has a house big enough for this party! Quiet Christmas Eve turned into dozens and dozens of aunts, uncles, and cousins singing carols, opening presents, family pictures, a Nativity play, games, Santa visiting, food, spirits, and whatever else we can fit in to the night before people head off to Midnight Mass.

I love it.

This celebration taught me early on that Christmas wasn't about presents. It was about presence. Sure, I was excited for gifts and my one uncle loved to rile up the kids with a "We Want Presents" chant. But it was never just about that. It was always about love and family and Jesus.

I only missed it once the year my husband and I were married. We had taken so much time off for our wedding and other family weddings that we could not make it home. I was so sad to miss it and my husband was too. We knew as soon as our son was born we wanted to spend all of our Christmases in Iowa. It would become a priority so our children could feel the joy of family, the love of Jesus, and the magic of Christmas with a big family.

But then May 30th, 2014 happened and everything I once knew changed forever. That was the day we received our fatal diagnosis for our precious daughter. She was not expected to live long after she was born, if she survived at all. Her due date was in October, but she was not born until November 12, just two weeks before Thanksgiving. Our holidays would never be the same again.

We still went to Iowa for Christmas, just six weeks after she was born sleeping, but we missed the big Christmas Eve. I just couldn't spend her first Christmas Eve with my whole, big, wonderful family if Lily wasn't with me. I guess I wanted both of us to miss her first Christmas.

I still want my children to experience that big, wonderful, family Christmas of mine, but right now we are just not ready for that and that's okay. This is our second Christmas since Lily was born sleeping just over a year ago. I think everyone assumes it gets easier your second time through everything, and for some maybe it is, but not for us and definitely not for us this year. 

A newborn sleeps through Christmas. Their only memory is the pictures we take and the stories we tell. But a one year old? They start to see the magic. Their eyes light up when they see Christmas lights. They either smile, or scream and cry, at Santa. They get to dress up as little angels for the Nativity play and show off their adorable Christmas jammies at the end of the night. They let their big brother open all of their gifts and they fall asleep in your lap because they are just too exhausted from all the fun they had with their dozens and dozens of cousins. So as much as my heart was aching that she missed her newborn Christmas, it aches all the more for her one year old Christmas.

But we still rejoice in the season and spirit of Christmas because I know Lily would want us to. We just don't do it the way I always envisioned because honestly, from here on out, nothing is as I envisioned it.

Our second Christmas missing her will probably look a lot like our first Christmas missing her. Only this year, I expect to feel it all a lot more. I'm out of the fog, passed the shock, and I'm aware every day of my new reality. We may or may not go to Iowa. We may or may not go to Christmas parties. We may or may not feel like celebrating or singing at Mass. I just don't know and that's okay.

But, this is what I do know. We will be together as a family. We will decorate a big tree again and a small one just for Lily.


We will hang our stockings with ALL of our names. We will decorate her grave with Advent and Christmas decor. We will laugh together and we will cry together. We will remember our precious daughter. We will smile through tears when our son says, "Merry Christmas Lily!" 


And we will miss her, with every sweet memory we make with her brother, we will long for another moment with Lily.


Last year I said this and it still rings true today and always will for us:

"All in all, it was almost perfect...as close as perfect gets when you are missing your daughter. I don't think we will ever have a perfect Christmas again, but I'll take a few more "almost perfect" ones..."


~ ~ ~
Kellie Soper lives in Arizona and is wife to her amazing husband, Jason. Together they have two beautiful children, one on earth and one sweet, perfect soul in Heaven. Ted is a wild, silly, and rambunctious toddler. Their sweet Lily Frances was born sleeping on November 12, 2014. They learned at their 18 week ultrasound that Lily had a fatal neural tubal defect the doctors said was "incompatible with life." Kellie and Jason both knew Lily was not a "decision", but their precious daughter and they believe her life was of value, no matter what. She carried Lily with love for 42 weeks and 2 days. They miss her every single day, but are grateful for the honor and privilege of being her parents. You can read more about their family on Kellie's blog, Life and Love.

Monday, December 7, 2015

Day Seven: Giveaway: Winner!

This giveaway is now CLOSED. We have a winner!

Marissa, in memory of Haven Skylar, you've won the laurelbox!

Please contact us HERE within 24 hours to claim your gift.

If you didn’t win, you can still order something special from laurelbox! And let family and friends know it would be a wonderful gift in memory of your child.

~ ~ ~


Our seventh giveaway is open to all baby/child loss families in the U.S. 

Friends and family may enter on behalf of a loss family, but it must go to a family whose child died. 


Enter to win Holiday laurelbox!




The box includes our Heaven-Side Holiday ornament, the We Love You Holiday Luminary, and a Salve for the Soul soap.

laurelbox gifts reflect our love for vintage design and natural living.  Our items are infused with tenderness towards grief. We have a line of commemorative jewelry, items to assist the grieving process, and holistic essential oils and teas for balancing the emotions after a loss. Most items are made by hand here at laurelbox.   Our other products are sourced from small independent artisans who have joined with us to offer exclusive items that speak to a woman’s soul, body, home, and family.

To Enter:

You must be the family of a child who died, or entering on behalf of a loss family, in the U.S. 


1. Like All That Love Can Do, and laurelbox on Facebook.
2. Comment below, or on the Facebook post, with your child's name(s), or nickname, and why you'd like to win.


The winner will be randomly selected and announced here and on Facebook on December 8th.

Good luck!

12 DOC: Day Seven: laurelbox

*This post is part of our Twelve Days of Christmas series. You can read more here.*

Supporting a Bereaved Friend this Christmas
by Denise and Johanna from laurelbox

Ahhh the holidays.  Our hearts ache for those who have lost children, especially during this season.  If you have a friend who has lost a child, but you haven’t lost a child, you may be wondering how to best support them.  Your desire to truly be there with your
friends in the dark moments is a wonderful thing.  We are also in your shoes, as we have not lost children.  Most importantly, we believe that every hurting woman should be surrounded by a purposeful sisterhood that cares for hurting hearts.  We truly believe that women are better banded together, and we are on a mission to empower women to walk through dark times together.  So with that in mind, and also knowing that everyone grieves differently, here are a few ideas to support a bereaved mother this Christmas.  

1. Know they might not be feeling cheery Christmas vibes
The holidays are hard for them.  They are missing someone and that hole in their life might make them feel like holiday traditions are cruel.  Don’t expect them to come to your yearly Christmas bash.  Small talk at a party might be challenging for them.  Be sure to still extend the invitation to them, however.  Even if they don’t accept, it’s nice to offer.  You could always say, “no pressure if you don’t feel like coming, but we are having a party and we’d love to have you if you feel up to it.”  Nobody likes to feel excluded, and the bereaved parent is the best judge on whether or not they would like to attend.  Don’t take it personal if they choose not to come, even if it is last minute.  Don’t send a generic “Happy Holidays” text message.  Saying Happy or Merry anything might feel so untrue they don’t want to hear it.  Release them from any past traditions that might be 
too hard.

Do acknowledge their pain when you deliver holiday wishes.  Say something like, “I know the holidays are heavy for you this year.  Since I know you are missing (and then say the name of who they are missing), know that I see your pain, I am so sorry, I am here for you, and I love you.”  Those simple words can really validate their feelings.  Do send them a text on Christmas and New Years that mentions their child’s name.  Know your family’s Christmas card might be a trigger for them, so do handwrite a note on your card that acknowledges their loss and expresses your love for them.  

2. Know you don’t have to say much
Just be there for them.  Your words can’t fix their pain.  Don’t offer platitudes or give advice, especially if you’ve never been there.   As much as you can, try and sit in their pain with them.  It might make you feel a little jumpy and insecure.  But just try. Your discomfort in talking about their loss is infinitely less difficult than their reality of living without their loved one.  So just try to embrace any awkwardness, sit in their pain, and give them space to process at their own pace.  

And whatever you do, don’t make their loss about you.  Read this article about the ring theory of grief, and abide by it. 

And also, there will be times they want to do something normal.  So be ok with that too.  If they want to sit in your living room, eat Christmas cookies, and binge on old Friends episodes.  Then guess what, tonight you’re eating cookies and bingeing on old Friends episodes.  Give them freedom to be wherever they need to be in their own time.

3. Do an activity with them to remember their child
Their heart is aching for their child.  And it can be so hard when everyone else is frolicking about, doing child centered Christmas activities.  So stop your own life and bring an activity to their house that is focused on remembering their child.  Use your knowledge of your friend and your own creativity to think of something appropriate.  Everyone is different and enjoys different activities.  Maybe you make ornaments with their child’s name on it.  Maybe you click through a slide show of pictures of their child.  Maybe you cook dinner and drink red wine while you talk about their child.  Whatever it is, tailor it to your friend and their preferences, and center it solely around their child. 
Forget-Me-Not Necklace
4. Make a plan 
It might feel forced and contrived to make a plan of how to support your friend. 
However, we have personally found that without a plan, the chaos of the holidays can suck your time away before you know it.  Your friend’s child is probably at the forefront of their mind, and they might need extra support. Standing firm and secure next to your friend is just as important as any shopping or cooking or decorating.  So make a plan of how you will support them.  Write it on your calendar.  Put it on your whiteboard.  Do whatever it is you do to make your list.  Because your hurting friend should be at the forefront of your mind this season.  

5. Give them endless amounts of grace
Don’t we all need grace?  It’s my favorite thing to think about lately.  So if someone you know is hurting, let them off the hook.  Release your own opinions about things.  Know that someday, you will need that grace in return.  Life is so much more abundant when we give endless grace.
Let Your Friends Shelter You Tea Towel
At laurelbox, our mission is to help women be good friends to each other during dark times.  We know our culture doesn’t do a great job at caring for grieving people, so we work to empower women to know how to be a support system.  We created a few items this year to help you acknowledge a hurting person.  

The Heaven-Side Holiday Ornament has a really tender message, because it recognizes a hurting heart and also offers a beautiful message of hope.  We wrote the poem on the ornament in collaboration with Lexi Behrndt over at Scribbles and Crumbs, and it’s really perfect if you’re missing someone this Christmas.  


We also created our We Love You Holiday Luminary because it is a sweet way to represent the life of someone you are missing this Christmas.  


And lastly, our holiday themed laurelbox, includes the ornament, luminary, a soothing handmade soap and a hand-stamped necklace with the word “love.”


And if you are the one hurting this year, our wish is that your community of friends and
family hold you up when pain makes it hard to hold yourself up.  Our prayer is that a laurelbox gift can help you feel remembered in a time when people can get busy with their own lives and loved ones.  Our hope is that if you are far from your family and
friends this holiday season, the tangible gifts we provide will help you know that they stand with you from across the miles.

~ ~ ~ 

Denise has over 10 years of experience in product sales and brings her amazing eye for vintage design and decor to laurelbox.  Denise and her husband Wes live in Ohio where they are raising two toddlers and two teens.   Denise, good soul that she is, also helps Wes run his business.  They both enjoy all the free time that comes with a family of six and owning two companies.   When Denise isn't putting the perfect touches on laurelbox gifts, she enjoys indulging in guilty pleasures like wearing fancy yoga clothes (even though she is not working out) and sipping wine. 

Johanna previously worked as a museum fundraiser, and brings her love of handmade artistic products to laurelbox.  She lives outside of Denver, Colorado with her husband and two boys on 4 acres.  When she is not creating gifts for laurebox, she is gardening, failing at DIY projects, and hiding from winter.  She has a love-hate relationship with her desire to live a natural lifestyle.  Mostly because of the cloth diapers.  So much is the fault of the cloth diapers.   

Sunday, December 6, 2015

Day Six: Giveaway: Winners!

This giveaway is now CLOSED. We have our winners!

Nicole Gray Fortune, in memory of Samuel Colt, you've won the full sized Key Fob!


Randi Schlenker, in memory of baby Journey, you've won the mini Key Fob!

Please contact us HERE within 24 hours to claim your gift.

If you didn't win, you can order anything from Krystal's shop, The Stitch Starter, for 15% off! Use the code: ALLTHATLOVECANDO15 when you check out. 


~ ~ ~

Our sixth giveaway is open to all baby/child loss families. 

Friends and family may enter on behalf of a loss family, but it must go to a family whose child died. 


Enter to win a Customized Key Fob/Mini Key Fob in memory of your baby! 



Created by Krystal Bockholt, in memory of her sweet babies: 


Every life matters.  Even those that are short, or are only carried within a mother.  

Two of my children died shortly after birth, and as a loss mother I know some of the hurt bereaved parents feel, and the desire many have to carry a symbol of their babies everywhere with them.  This key fob/wristlet does just that.  

The full size is approximately 10 inches full-loop.  Approximately 5 inches from metal hardware to top.  

The mini size is approximately 6 inches full loop. Approximately 3 inches from metal hardware to top.

The ribbon is fused and then stitched onto the webbing, and then the ends are sealed to prevent fraying before it's assembled.  

If you win, you'll be able to choose, 

Webbing Options:
*Light Blue
*Bright Blue 
*White
*Bright Pink
*Light Pink

Ribbon Options:
"Infant Loss Awareness" with footprints
"Too Beautiful For Earth" with footprints and wings
"Pregnancy and Infant Loss" with awareness ribbon

To Enter:

You must be the family of a child who died, or entering on behalf of a loss family, in the U.S. 


1. Like All That Love Can Do, on Facebook.
2. Comment below, or on the Facebook post, with your child's name(s), or nickname, and why you'd like to win.


The winner will be randomly selected and announced here and on Facebook on December 7th.

Good luck!

12 DOC: Day Six: Samantha Chavez

*This post is part of our Twelve Days of Christmas series. You can read more here.*


by Samantha Chavez

Our son Gabriel passed away December 8th 2011. He had been diagnosed with Potters Syndrome at our 20 week ultrasound, he was born at 36 weeks via induction. He survived 35 very precious minutes with us.

I remember Thanksgiving dinner that year, less than a week from our induction date. Our family was preparing to eat and say their annual prayer before delving into a wonderful assortment of food. My uncle says the prayer almost every year and that particular year he included a special prayer to bless our journey and Gabriel. It was difficult to choke back the tears and hide the fear I felt when he mentioned our baby. 

One week later we were scheduled to be induced. The induction went as well as we could have expected and we met our son 18 hours later. It was the hardest day of my life having to say goodbye to someone so precious, so special.

Two weeks later we would face Christmas. We were heavy with grief, distraught and continually crying. We barely set up our tree, although we did put up a Christmas stocking next to Evelyn’s that would be Gabriel’s. We definitely weren’t feeling the joyful happiness that is “Christmas”. When we did eventually put up the tree is was adorned with memorial ornaments and angels.  

I went to the store anticipating purchasing a present we would put out at the cemetery for him. I took my daughter and she picked out a toy for her baby brother. As we were leaving we spotted the Salvation Army donation box. I decided that is what Gabriel would want me to do, donate the toy. Someone had mentioned this option to me but in that particular moment, it just felt right.  

This donation is our way of giving in Gabriel’s name. It’s our way of giving him a present by giving a less fortunate child a gift. This has become an annual tradition for us. We pick a present that would be suitable for his age, something we think he would have liked and we donate it.


Christmas morning I wanted nothing more than to crawl in a hole and cry till I couldn’t cry anymore. It was the toughest day I had to face yet, but I tried to be cheerful for our daughter, who still wanted to enjoy Christmas. I dragged myself out of our house after gift opening and went to our various parent’s homes to celebrate with everyone. All I wanted to do was crawl in a hole and cry till I couldn’t cry anymore. I wanted to rip my broken heart out of my chest so it wouldn’t hurt anymore. Our families were completely understanding that we weren’t our cheery selves that day. They knew we were sad that Gabriel wasn’t there to experience all the love and joy that Christmas is. Although, it still seemed as if there was a giant elephant in the room, nobody wanted to really speak of the sadness and heartache, but we all knew it was there. 

The following year as his first birthday approached, I decided to do a gathering at the cemetery. I was 7 months pregnant with my twin “rainbow babies” but knew I needed to do something, if nothing else than for myself. I decided to make his birthday the day we would put a tree up at the cemetery for him. I bought solar lights, tiny ornaments and a small 24 inch artificial tree. 


Our family and friends joined us in brutal negative temperatures to celebrate Gabriel’s short life and the Christmas season beginning. This has become another tradition. Sometimes we invite family out and bring a crockpot of hot chocolate to share. Sometimes we do it alone. 
A few weeks after that first Christmas, our tree was stolen. I was devastated at the thought that someone would steal a tree from a baby cemetery, from my BABY. I was heartbroken and wondered what kind of terrible person would do that.  
I didn’t let that get me down for too long, I bought a new one the next year and the year after that. Finally the 3rd one wasn’t stolen and I got to bring it home and store it for this upcoming holiday season.  
It always feels good to buy him things, it’s the only sort of parenting I am able to do for him. So buying him a new Christmas tree actually felt good. 
As I think back over the years without him, I ask myself, Do I wish I had done anything differently over theses years? Yes, I wish I had not forced myself out that first year. I wish I would have stayed home and wallowed in my own misery. I’ve since learned that it’s ok to feel whatever emotions you are feeling at whatever moment they present. I think it would have been better for me to stay in that day, celebrate with my husband and little girl and invite family over instead.  
If you feel sad and missing your baby this holiday season, find a way to incorporate your little one into your festivities. It doesn’t have to be sad or heartbreaking, but it's okay if it does. If you feel up to it, find something positive to do, something that feels good. The tree lighting at the cemetery on his birthday isn’t deep and depressing, it’s more of a celebration and a way to honor him and the upcoming holidays. Donating a present for him isn’t sad and depressing, it’s positive and uplifting. Sure both moments bring sadness to my heart, even when I hang his Christmas stocking I feel a twang in my chest. It feels good to have found things I can do to incorporate him without having a cry, without it being sad and depressing. Light a candle on Christmas morning as a symbol of his p Positive events will help you make it through this holiday season, and you’ll be so happy that you found a way to incorporate your precious baby into your holiday traditions. 
Merry Christmas, and many hugs this holiday season. resence, hand out flowers to strangers the week of Christmas and watch their face light up and maybe even add a Christmas tag “A Christmas smile for you in memory of Gabriel, only survived 35 minutes but lives forever in our hearts.”.  
Positive events will help you make it through this holiday season, and you’ll be so happy that you found a way to incorporate your precious baby into your holiday traditions. 
Merry Christmas, and many hugs this holiday season.

~ ~ ~
Samantha Chavez is from St Paul Minnesota. She is mother to Evelyn (5), their angel Gabriel (almost 4), and babies Sawyer and Logan (2). She is a volunteer for Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep, a photographer and stay at home mom to her surviving children. Her son Gabriel is her guiding light in life. He was born with Bilateral Renal Agenesis and was born at 36 weeks surviving 35 minutes.She also kept a blog of her journey, which began as soon as she found out they were pregnant and follows them through the journey with him. Read it here: Real Life: A MN Mom.
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