Welcome Keegan

Twenty-six years ago, I started this day on no sleep. I’d stayed up all night having mild contractions, scrubbing the floor of my 1-bedroom apartment in Rockton IL, population 3,100. Vacuuming, dusting, organizing and preparing to make sure everything was exactly perfect for the next time we’d walk through the door as a family of 3. The sink was scrubbed, the toilet sparkling, the carpet had vacuum lines and the closets were orderly. At the age of twenty-one, I was about to become a single mother to my second son. Although I was adamant with my birth control, I still wasn’t exactly sure how this new life came to be – but if you know me at all, you know I trust God’s will (after the initial confusion wore off) and knew that if this was the plan, He definitely had a reason for it and I don't shirk God's challenges for me. I remember wondering if I would become ill down the line and my oldest son would need a brother for that time. Or if my oldest son would become ill and we’d need our newest addition for moral support. It was so hard for me to figure out how God saw fit to make me a mother again when I was already working, going to school, taking care of all of the things on my own – but struggling every step of the way.

Around 5:00 AM, I decided I was ready to get this show on the road. I didn't think it wise to wait any longer and felt it was time to finally time to load up my sleeping 22-month old into the car and make our way to the hospital for the impending arrival of his little brother. I couldn’t afford a house phone, so I stopped at a payphone to call my children’s dad & his parents, to tell them that I was in labor. According to our plan, they would meet me at the hospital to take care of our oldest while I delivered baby #2. I made my way down Highway 2 from Rockton to Rockford, sucking on only ice – but still having to pull over several times anyway to get sick. On ice. It was the longest 15 miles of my life.

When I arrived at the hospital, things went very quickly. My oldest and I were ushered to a room where I was given a gown to change into, waiting for Grandma to arrive to take care of him and I was chastised by one of the nurses that the hospital floor was no place for a toddler to play (did it LOOK like I had a lot of options at that point, LADY!? Did she think THIS was the PLAN?! I would LOVE to run him over to McDonald’s Playland, but I’m a little BUSY here!). As my contractions progressed and it was evident this baby was not waiting for Dad or Grandma or anyone else to show up – another nurse whisked my oldest son off to the nursery to wait for Grandma because my mild contractions had subsided, full labor was in force and it was GO TIME. Within the hour, he was here. They wrote what time he was born on my pillowcase because we didn’t have time to do the paperwork yet. All 8 pounds of mostly shoulders (which were NOT fun to deliver) had arrived in one of the kindest, most thoughtful souls I would ever meet. One whose baby grins grew into the greatest of smiles. One whose hugs would always make me know that no matter what – everything was going to work out just fine (even when I was the one comforting him). One who had such a great sense of humor, contagious laugh, and ethic of hard work that would always make me proud to call him mine. He had arrived.

And then my children’s father arrived to meet our newest addition. They came to ask us about a name, which we hadn’t really taken the time to figure out yet – so they said they’d come back. He really liked the name Jacob and I did too. I’d like the middle name to be after my Uncle Mike, which he was fine with. And then after he’d left for the day to head to work, they’d brought the baby back in to me after letting me take a little nap. As I held, fed and snuggled with this sweet little boy, Jacob Michael, it just did not feel right. I looked down at my sweet bundle and dreamt of what his life would be like as Tyler’s younger brother. Calling in Tyler and Jacob for dinner…., Jacob Michael – what have you done? And it didn’t seem to click for me. I kept coming back to this name I’d heard from a youth group I was in a few years before. The youth pastor and his wife had a son and named him Keegan and I always loved it. I then went through the idea of waking Tyler and Keegan up….Keegan Michael…you better get in here!  Ohhhh, Keegan Michael was a much better fit for this child of ours, and since I was left unattended and largely in charge, I did what I wanted (as per usual) and named him Keegan instead. Thankfully, my children’s father was not angry with me & if he was, he never did say a thing about it.  From time to time I still think about if I made the right choice on his name and I have to say, I’ve never been sorry. He has never once looked like a Jacob to me and has always been a Keegan. 

While his death deems him “Forever 21”, today he would have been twenty-six. We were blessed to see him achieve his dream of playing college soccer and got a sneak peek into the amazing dad he would’ve been in his love for Espi and the uncle he was to his niece (and subsequent nephew). He was a good man that we were very much looking forward to watching him live his life to his fullest potential. I wonder if he’d have had his own children, what they’d look like, if they’d choose to play soccer as he did and what they’d be named. Would they have his skill to bring laughter or his trait of providing surprise? What would he have said at his brother’s weddings? What sort of best man would he be for his friends? Would he ever coach (because I think he’d be great!)? The hardest part is that we just don’t get to know. Ever.

As you raise your children, you wait in anticipation of some things. From the day you hear your baby’s heartbeat, you worry about how they’re growing and developing, and it never goes away. Are all of the organs there and functioning right? Once in the hospital, they get scores on the Apgar test, how many fingers & toes, rolling over, crawling, the first steps. How they progress through all of the developmental things, right? How well do they learn to speak, how healthy they are when they enter the school system, are they a good reader (wasn’t a big fan), are they good at math (better than you’d think), do they enjoy music or art? But once you get past most of the major milestones, you set in for this easy-breezy “you made it” mentality. He’s good! He’ll make his choices (not always great, but they are his very own), build his life and we can’t wait to see it all unfold because he is GREAT (of course we’re biased – he’s ours!). To see this man, we raised do his thing….and then he’s gone. Just like that. He’s all done doing the things, he doesn’t get to do any more.

None. Of. It.

Except we never stop wondering the change he’d have made. For us and for others. If he would have done this, how he would have done that. Because FOR SURE – he would have done it well. This guy was tough, and he didn’t do anything half-assed. Of course, there are things that don’t go as planned and it’s not always easy, but we figure it out. That’s what we do. That’s what we did 26 years ago, that’s how we raised these boys and that’s how we’ll manage this, forever more, because we’ve found there is no one good way to do it and what we need changes from season to season.

This year, I’m doing this writing...I feel like I should do more but it's what I can do right now. I’ll head to St. Mary's Hospital in Janesville - where I worked when Keegan died. This is an imperative piece to my story because the healing presence of God is here. Not only is it their mission, but something I walked away with as an employee - and a woman who lost her son within the walls of this building. It is literally where I was as I worried about the fact they couldn't find Keegan. I was in the process of walking out to my car that day to go look for him myself when my husband called to tell me not to get in my car or drive because they were on their way to me. He had Tyler with him and they were coming to tell me Keegan had died. They had found him, he was in the accident we had all been concerned was him. I had driven right past it on my way to work that day. It never even occurred to me it was Keegan - he was a great driver, that would never be him and if it was, I would surely know as his mother that he was gone, right? It turns out - NO.

I could never have imagined and in my devastation, my coworkers in this amazing space carried me through - with my core team of people I do life and love with. My coworkers gifted me a brick to our Healing Garden in Keegan's honor. I go see it every year and stop by the Chapel - where I spent time every day for months, gaining the courage to live my life without my son. Breath by ever loving breath. I walk into that Chapel completely lost, every time, and just give myself time to be held. My God is there with me and knows my heart and the things I am feeling, but may not have the words to explain - He just knows. I walk into the Healing Garden, look for Keegan's brick - which reminds me that, "Where He leads me I can safely go". Afterward, I headed to the craft store to get a wreath for Keegan's grave (the soccer balls we had signed by his teammates were stolen &%#$!) and then headed home to prepare to feed some of his favorite foods to the fam. That’s right, Baby Pizzas (on English muffins – we learned in Cub Scouts 20 years ago) and mini Oreo cheesecakes sure do make my crew happy and I love every minute of honoring my kids.

There are many ways to take this day, I don't have to really get out of bed if I don't want to - nobody would blame me if I didn't. I choose to because that's not who I want to be and definitely not the example I want to set for my children. I also need to feel productive, if you know me at all - you know THIS is for SURE TRUE. I make an absolute choice every single day because the last thing you will find me to be is lazy. That's not the story I want to tell and if you're curious about that at all, there's a whole other post to it. :) 

I made it through another breath. Another day. Another birthday. 

#storyteller

#thisisthestoryilltell

#ifitoldyoumystoryyouwouldhearvictoryovertheenemy

#screwyousatan

#proudmomma