Faith's Lodge

In a sun-splashed room of a south Minneapolis home, young voices help warm the walls with breathtaking joy. Five-year-old Emmy and three-year-old Ally organize their dolls for a ball. Their mom, Susan Lacek, joins in, as their dad, Mark Lacek, takes in the moment.

One girl enthusiastically tells Susan, "You'll see if you get a card to the ball."

Susan responds, "Oh if we get invited to the ball!" "Yea, you are going to get a card," Emmy replies.

In this moment, that demands any parent to take a mental snapshot, Emmy declares, "Everybody gets two girls, and three dresses."

And the reality here is, there is a third dress for a third daughter who lives in everyone's heart -- but not heir earthly home.

"Her name is Faith," Emmy says. And her home according to three-year-old Ally is, "Umm, in heaven."

In a neighboring room, Mark and Susan reflect on another moment six years ago. "It was a pain that was so sharp and so deep," recalls Mark.

For months the couple had been anticipating the arrival of their firstborn daughter, Faith Ann Lacek. But on the way to a baby shower in June of 2000, the couple took a detour for peace of mind that would prove anything but peaceful.

Susan remembers, "We decided to just go into the hospital for, sort of an ease our conscience check, because we weren't feeling a lot of movement." It was then that the couple learned that just weeks before their due date that their baby had died.

Faith was stillborn a day later.

Susan says, "You're supposed to be looking forward to this great moment and instead you get the news, and your life has just changed in an instant."

Even more painful was the fact that Susan and her sisters were all pregnant at the same time.

Looking back Susan says, "I think that's when everybody in our family truly came to realize that having a healthy baby is just truly a miracle."

The laughter that bounces off the walls of their home is a reminder of the two miracles that arrived in the six years since Faith's death. The girls helped restore joy and hope, while the couple keeps Faith in their hearts.

Upstairs in the nursery, a special cabinet holds reminders of their first angel and first successful Faith-driven mission, which goes back to a keepsake birth certificate.

Susan asks, "How can you receive a death certificate, when you never received a birth certificate?" The Lacek's helped make sure families with stillborn children could get an actual birth certificate by helping pass a new Minnesota law entitling those families to certificates.

"We gave birth to them, just like any other child. The only difference was, we didn't get the reward at the end," explains Susan.

In Wisconsin's north woods near Siren, Faith has another birth certificate of sorts. Here on a country road, a sign in a driveway reads "Faith's Lodge - A Place Where Hope Grows."

Late in the summer of 2006, gigantic machinery began reshaping the earth and the future. As Mark Lacek watches the on-going work he says, "The dream is starting to come true."

This family that has borne so much pain in the loss of Faith, now plans to help others overcome similar tragedies in life. In the coming months, Faith's Lodge will be born. It's a multi-million dollar, eight family facility on 80 acres and it's going to be a place where those with critically ill children or those who've lost a child can come to heal.

Mark Lacek walks a trail on the property and as he comes upon an old bridge, he calls
it, "the bridge of hope." It is the Lacek's hope that through Faith's Lodge, others who suffer the pain of a stillbirth won't have to walk a path similar to theirs.

Mark recalls, "At the time we lost Faith, there really was no organized or central place where you could go to kind of figure out how to deal with something that you never expected."

At their nearby lake home, Susan Lacek still finds comfort in nature, while tending to Faith's garden. She says, "I kind of look at it as the time that I didn't get to spend with Faith."

And it is healing the couple found in another north woods spot after Faith died, that spawned Faith's Lodge. "It really hits home for me, when my mom or a close friend will say to me, Susan I think she'd be really proud of you. And that's when I realize exactly how much we've accomplished," says Susan.

Mark adds, "Because of (Faith), a lot of other people will have a much better experience either with a medical crisis or a loss."

While the Lacek's raise construction money, operational costs ranging from administration to counseling, will be covered by Ronald McDonald House Charities, Upper Midwest. Executive Director Meg Katzman says, "It really struck us as a Ronald McDonald house in the woods." She adds, "I just think it's a wonderful thing. There're really very few places in the world that are doing something like this."

For the Lacek's the lofty quest, all comes back to loss. Not only theirs, but others
as well.

The reality of that loss becomes clear during a family visit to an area called Babyland in a Minneapolis cemetery where Faith is buried. Susan notes, "That's one of the things that I never get over, when we come out here is you know you see a new stone, or you see a new grave and you think, oh my gosh, it just happened to somebody else."

The family has a ritual where they release a balloon to Faith. And this summer day, they carry on that tradition. One of the girls says, "I want to do the balloon." Suddenly, unexpectedly, the balloon slips skyward. Dad and the daughters say, "Whoopsie, whoopsie."

In such a serious moment, the two miracles offer relief that warms the heart. And in Faith's name, the Laceks intend to warm many broken hearts. As Mark puts it, "This is our attempt to make the sun shine on a very dark period."


By Greg Vandegrift, KARE 11 News

Faith's Lodge

Courtesy KARE 11 TV

And today...windows!

Yesterday's update...a day late.

An undercover look at a working toilet...


I cannot describe my happiness over this.

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A man and his house...


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Don't they look like actual rooms?

There's always more to the story...

Did she or didn't she?

The thing that amazes me is that they were so eager to "profile" a woman who lost a baby. When in fact, the profile could just be that of a nutcase.

And when the story breaks, you can always change the profile.

"In the vast majority of the cases we have seen, they have not" miscarried, Allen added.

I need to stop following this story...because it will only serve to piss me off further as the story unfolds.

Moral : Everybody lies stretches the truth.

...and exhale

I admit that I hold my breath. My heart races and my palms sweat when I see or hear my friends talking about certain things.

The story of the woman who attacked another and stole her baby...well that one has me very nervous. I have seen peeks of it here and there, but people have been pretty good at supressing the ugly things I can tell they really want to say.

People are sick. People are evil. There is no compassion.

I hold my breath and wait for those statements to hit me in the face like a slap. I don't have the energy to stand up and defend myself, let alone a complete stranger who is completely mentally unbalanced. I don't excuse her. How could anyone excuse that kind of behavior?

It's true, I don't know her circumstances. I only know she lost a baby (she didn't miscarry if she was at the end of her pregnancy...she had a stillbirth...but don't let facts ruin a perfectly good story) and a family member also recently had a baby.

And I can imagine it all.

I can feel that pain.

I understand her a little more than I am comfortable with.

And though I am distinguised from her because I maintained my sanity (only God knows how) through my grief, I could very easily be her. In some ways I AM her. That want...that drive to have a child at any cost...it is eerily familiar to me. (You're right delphi...it is an odd world when you identify with the criminal more than the victim.)

So I hold my breath a lot and steady myself for the comments I know are coming. How could she? What a sicko. I hope she gets x, y, or z as punishment.

And then someone else offers up a little pity for this woman and I exhale.

It's not so hard to imagine anything anymore.

So you've got a due date coming up...

Could you proof this layout for us and let us know if it's ok to proceed to production of your son's grave marker?


It's perfect...if something like this can be considered perfect.

This sucks.

More news that hits too close to home

Abducted newborn found; Woman arrested.

Beck (the suspect) had been pregnant but apparently miscarried shortly before her own child was to be born.

The abductor had been profiled as someone who had a child die recently or as someone who could not have children, told people she was pregnant and needed to steal a child so her lie would not be found out.

Shit...I fit half of the profile of a nutso!

Not a good week to see this

http://23weeks.blogspot.com

Why does this disturb me?

What day are we on?

Day One was 8/29/06. So we're headed into the one month mark. ONE MONTH! These guys are amazing. In case you can't tell from the photo, those are SHINGLES on the right side of the house. Now that the front facing peak is done, I'm guessing shingles on the left side of the house will follow Tuesday. The back of the house is completely shingled already. Like I said, these guys are amazing.

Tuesday...the plumber pays us a house call. eek!

Place your bets

Picture day is today and tomorrow at preschool/daycare. Sam has been in daycare since he was 15 months old and we have exactly ONE school picture. Will we get one this year?

The contractor cannot fix our toilet. He is "baffled." It is 3:30pm. Steve is calling a plumber right now. Will it get fixed today or will I be spending tonight peeing into a bucket?

They were supposed to be putting up the rest of our shingles and installing our windows today. It's raining right now and I'm not sure how long it has been raining today. Will it rain for the next five days as would be in keeping with our luck?

The bank seems to have lost our request for reimbursement for our building and plumbing permits. Will they find it before I am forced to call and yell at them?

Will Sam write his letters today at school? tonight at home?

Will I fall asleep at my desk?

Will I stop blogging in that really annoying suspense-announcer voice?

Place your bets.

A day late

Steve and I talked about adoption.
We happily discussed it.
Happily looked forward.
I was one day late and terrified I was pregnant.
I didn't tell my husband.
I tested.
Negative.
Relief...
...and something else.
Regret?
Embarassment?
Shame?
Foolishness?
Despite all indications to the contrary, I apparently still harbor some delusion that I could have another living child.
This makes me either stupid or insane.
Either way, I am clearly out of touch with reality.
Wow could I consider adoption when I'm so obviously not resolved about pregnancy?
And why am I not resolved about pregnancy?
Do I need clubbed over the head?
I need to go back to "not talking about it until after the house is done."
Or maybe I need to go to "not talking about it at all."
If I could just get to "not THINKING about it."
My hair is falling out by the handfull.
Right on the post-pregnancy schedule.
How fitting that it should be now.
Due on Saturday.
I didn't think it would hurt this bad.
I'm in my own special kind of hell right now.
I'm sorry.
I will wish you all well tomorrow...or the next day...or maybe next week.
Right now I just can't think.
I feel too much.
But I don't feel anything.
Forgive me.
Bless me.
Know that no matter how kind I may seem I am angry and bitter...
...and I don't want to be a day late...
ever again.
Or do I?

Parenting failure #48675423575

So we have hit the first roadblock that I am completely and totally stumped as to how to get around. My son refuses to write. Absolutely, flat-out, bribery doesn't work, won't even pick up a pen, would rather spend TWO HOURS screaming and crying...refuses to write.

Preschool has begun. Sam's having to adjust to a schedule of "appropriate behavior" and "school time" where he had previously enjoyed a rather unstructured and free atmosphere. And I don't mind saying, he's not doing well with it. He says it's boring. He says he doesn't know how to write. He says he is not going to do it ever, ever again.

Great.

To be fair, he did try writing. He tried, made a small mistake, and went ballistic because it was not perfect. He is harder on himself than we could ever possibly be. So the perfect solution is not to try at all. You can't fail if you don't even try.

Beautiful. I have apparently taught my son that it is better to sit there and cry than it is to give it your best attempt and make a little mistake here and there.

We have always said, "As long as you try," and, "Nobody is perfect," and, "Accidents happen." He never got this upset over potty training failures or any of the other potentially psyche-damaging mistakes he made along the path of his four short years. So why writing? What is it about writing that makes it better to refuse than to fail? And where do I go from here?

The thing is, I can't say that I don't know how I did this to him. There DOES come a point where you give up trying. Where you realize that failing brings too much pain and sadness, so you give up hope and don't even risk trying.

But that doesn't apply to writing a letter on a piece of paper.

Now how do I make him understand that?

A funny thing happened on the way to insanity

I'm sick. Achy, stuffy, feverish, vomiting snot, sore throat, lungs on fire.

I've got my period. Day one and you'd think I was bleeding to death. Cramps to add to the fun physical disaster I have become.

Our only toilet won't flush. The plumber would cost $500 because it's Sunday. We don't have $500 just because it's Sunday. Steve took the toilet apart and snaked it...used an air blaster...ran water through the vent to clean it out...still nothing.

I can't stop crying.

I can't turn it off. What I should be doing right now. The baby boy I should be loving.

Instead, I'm going to have to pee and vomit into a bucket...and I can't stop crying.

Maybe this will be funny in a couple of days.

But somehow, I just don't think so.

Clothing jealousy

Sam is a boy. I love him dearly. He is my life. Let there be no doubt about that.

But the shopping...

The clothes...

The little boy clothing is just not so much fun.

I was washing some laundry for our house fire friends (sounds like a weird branch of Campfire Girls, doesn't it? God, I'm showing my age...do they even HAVE Campfire Girls anymore?)...anyway...I was folding their daughter's laundry after it had been washed and Oh.My.Gosh. The clothes are so stinkin cute!

I know I don't buy a lot of fashionable clothes for Sam (aka expensive), but I try to get him some of that good stuff from the consignment shop. So I got to thinking this morning that maybe I need to head directly to the source. Maybe the consignment shop doesn't carry the really good stuff because it's so cute nobody wants to re-sell it.

Uh...wrong.

First stop...Gymboree online...
~My child is NOT a football, baseball, or rugby player. So why, oh why, would I dress him like one?
~Big trucks and earth moving machinery...ok...you got me on that one...he loves that stuff.
~Plaid? Really? Like a mini Bob Villa?
~Stripes are generally innocuous enough. But the dark colors are really drab and boring if you ask me (which you didn't, but this is my blog so I'm gonna talk about it anyway).
~Button down Oxford shirts? Is he 4 or 40?

Seriously, I can't stand to step foot into a baby department in any store...but I'm jonesing so bad, I'm baby gift shopping for friends who have baby girls just so I can ooh and aah over the pinks and teals and purples. That's how bad it is. And poor Sam, I keep going on eBay and finding him cartoon character clothes just so he'll have something fun and young looking. Think he's mind if I snuck something ruffly into his wardrobe? (I'm going to end up putting him into therapy, aren't I?)

Shhh...don't tell my husband...

Thanks to a tip from Donutbuzz...this trio is going to see the Wiggles on November 9th!

Could it really be?!?!

Help Isabel

Go here and bid on something to help Isabel and her family.

(I have an item in the auction)

Stream of consciousness ranting

I got my son this jacket on eBay. He loves it. Is he wearing it today?

Daddy?

No...he is NOT wearing it today.

Because he put it on the kitchen counter last night when he could find no other available free space in our construction zone...and Daddy could not find it this morning. So he's wearing his old Gymboree hoodie. At least that's what I'm hoping happened and it wasn't just that Daddy didn't put any jacket on him.

Steve's mad search for Sam's shoes was averted this morning when I heard him muttering and asked, "What did you say?" Luckily when he said he couldn't find Sam's shoes I remembered exactly where they were when he took them off. It could have been very bad if Sam had to go to school in his sock feet.

Have I mentioned that I am tired of the construction zone. I can't find anything! And if I do find something, I have to literally hold onto it for fear it will get lost again if I set it down (much like Sam's jacket).

This morning I am not wearing my engagement ring. Not because I couldn't find it, but because I was so busy looking for my shoes and my pants that I forgot to put it on!

This is seriously becoming annoying. As is the addition of three rubbermaid tubs to store stuff in since the closet has become the wettest place in our house (and that is including the bathtub/shower).

Speaking of bathtub/shower...we have our new shower and bathtubs...in our barn. Yes, the crap is now spreading to be housed in TWO different buildings.

gah!

I feel better now. :o)